That hollow place in her chest, the one that belonged to Tony, opened with a great lurch, echoing with cries of pain and regret that sent physical offshoots into her body.
Stop. She mentally shook herself and whispered, “Must not feed the dragon of grief.”
“What’s that?”
“Sometimes I wonder if the world survives off pain. If it secretly eats the electric impulses that shock our human hearts.”
His face paled. Too honest? Too dark?
“My father used to talk about how the world was alive,” he said, “a great snake that had swallowed us, a literal living hell. Claimed we’re all being tested to see if we can escape and go to heaven. Me, I think that’s an excuse, a way to let pain shut you down. And to do that is to blaspheme the beauty of this world and the gifts we’ve been given. The grace.”
Usually she hated when people used her name as a pun. Not this time. His words felt like an invitation, like he was reaching out. She wanted to reach back, needed… Maybe it was time to live again. Live with the pain. Maybe in spite of it.
Stop it. Of course he’s reaching out; he’s trying to cultivate me as an asset.
Feeling foolish, played, she sent him a lethal look. A look she hoped hid her fear, her hope, her confusion. “You pretend to care. You genuinely seem to care. But you barely knew my brother. And though I know you’ll deny it, and this has to be a game we play”—a game that she knew well and couldn’t completely fault him for—“we both know you were using him to get at my family. And now, you’re trying to use me.”
Chapter 18
Standing in the back corridor of Club When? Dusty felt the biting chill of Gracie’s words. Not with her “barely knew my brother” comment, but with the “using her” line.
A server came through the exit side of the kitchen double-doors in a puff of fried onion smell, eyed the two of them, and went on her way.
Part of him sorely regretted not being able to explain why he was here. That he was trying to save people. Her included.
“Your lack of trust seems a shame considering I saved your life in Mexico and all. Apparently, you’ve forgotten.”
She shook her head. “I haven’t forgotten. Not that first moment I saw you. Not how you helped save my life. Not how you helped us all get safely away, bundled me into the SUV, and went back and buried my brother.” She turned and pushed through the steel swinging door with a whispered, “I’ll never forget.”
The door swung back and forth as he stood there, dumbstruck. Damn, she’d done it again. Her honesty. It blew him away. Somehow drew him close and kept him apart from her all at the same time. He followed her through the doors.
The kitchen was newer than he’d expected and bigger. Stainless steel sinks, fryers, and large stainless-steel cooking and prep area. Must be part of the expansion she’d talked about.
After Gracie introduced him to her kitchen staff, she led him into a small, pristine, poorly lit office with no windows. A few photos of family and the like, some official-looking framed licenses. A large wooden desk with a single chair behind and one in front of it. Not even a file cabinet.
She shut the door behind him, and he heard her inhaling deeply. Was she sniffing him?
He pivoted toward her, raised an eyebrow. As the skin on her cheeks blossomed with red, she ducked her head and tried to move past him. “I’ll get your money.”
Naw, he wasn’t letting that go. He stepped in front of her. “How do I smell?”
She shrugged. “Not awful or anything.”
The heat in her face grew three shades darker, a take-me-against-the-desk red. Or that might just be his warped interpretation. “Hot in here?”
“It’s an office adjacent to a kitchen, what did you expect?”
He leaned toward her. “That’s not the heat I was referring to.”
Wide, angry eyes snapped up at him. “Yes. I get it. I’m desperately attracted to you. You’re hot—scorching. I can feel you when I’m alone at night, naked, in my bed. And that makes me afraid, because I’m pretty sure you’re using me. Just like you used Tony.”
Her honesty was as sudden and disarming as a tsunami. He swallowed. He wanted to be straightforward with her, wanted to tell her something that would make her less suspicious, less afraid. But right now, that felt wrong.
And since the invite was there, he bent down, slow enough to let her know his intention.
She closed her eyes and lifted her lips. He brushed his own slowly across hers, and she made a sound that called to every primal response in his body. His hands snatched out and pulled her against him, fisting a handful of her sundress, dragging it up high enough to get his other hand on that fine ass.
The kiss deepened. And…the woman was wearing a thong. He squeezed the round globe of her ass. Best day ever.
Chapter 19
On tiptoes in her ground-floor office, Gracie moaned against the lips of the hottest man she’d ever met. Electric tingles danced across her tongue. Her entire body hummed, thrummed.
Such a good kisser. His sure, skilled lips drove away inhibition. Drove it away and parked it on the moon. She needed to get closer. She needed him under her.
Ugh. Why wasn’t there a couch in here?
Desk. Right behind him. She pushed against his chest. For a heartbreaking moment, he misunderstood. He pulled back, dropped her dress, took his scorching-hot hand from her butt, tried to take his lips away.
No!
She grasped his shirt with one hand, kept his lips to hers, probed his mouth with her tongue. He moaned, deepened the kiss again. Yes. That. So good.
She pushed him again. He got the message this time and let her steer him backward until he hit the desk. He sat on the edge to keep from falling.
She kept up, never losing contact with the expert sweep of his tongue. She could not get close enough, not have enough of him near her.
Bracing her hands on his shoulders, she lifted up and straddled him.
He didn’t miss a beat. His hands snaked around to grip her butt again, held her against his hard body. Fast learner.
She slid her hands up and under his T-shirt, running her hands up and down the silk-skinned muscles of his back. So many muscles. So hard. Speaking of hard…
She lifted for a second, reached between them, unbuttoned his shorts, and freed his cock. She stroked the tip of him. He groaned. “That feels good.”
He was big.
She tried to get her hand deeper into his shorts, get all of him, but it was impossible. She made a frustrated whimpering sound. He smiled against her lips, lifted her up with one hand, pulled his shorts down with the other. Their lips never lost contact.
He sat back on the desk. She dropped onto his arching body, like she’d missed him for a hundred years. A thousand. More. She rubbed her wet core against the length of him. The soft, saturated silk of her thong barely kept them apart.
He moaned into her mouth. “That feels amazing. Slick. Hot.”
It did. She ground against him, and his lips took hers with fevered need. Their breathing picked up, creating a different kind of music, hot exhales.
He felt so good. The hardness of him. She moved faster, a frantic, pulsing action that made him suck in a breath. He tried to pull back. “Gracie…”
She was so close. The coil of energy building, teasing with the pressure. She kissed him with a fiery intensity, begged with desperate moans in the back of her throat.
“I’ve got you,” he said. He helped her along, using his hands to bounce her ass in a way that increased the heat and friction between them. Oh. That felt so good. The tension, like the rhythm of their bodies, built to absolute madness.
He whispered about how hard he was and how good she felt, and all the ways he intended to have her.
She gasped with his dirty promises and moaned with the absolute need for him. And she came, right the
re in her office, her core slick against him, the electric current throbbing through her, releasing waves of pleasure.
Chapter 20
Dusty sat on her desk, Gracie—hot, sweet, and wet—straddling him. His orgasm hit him so fast and excruciatingly good he arched against her, gliding her sleek wetness back and forth against his cock. It wasn’t until the last shaking bit pumped out of him that he realized where he was, what they’d done.
Damn. He hadn’t come from dry humping since he’d been a teen in high school. That’s what a woman hot enough to burn flesh and a six-month dry spell got you. Embarrassing.
And yet a good time had been had by all. Then and now.
Breathing heavily, but always a gentleman, he whispered to her about how good she felt, how good she made him feel, and how he still very much wanted to see her naked.
For a moment, her head tucked into his shoulder, her breath hot against his neck, she almost purred, but then she put a hand on his chest, pulled away.
“Uh. Thank you, Dusty.”
“And thank you for allowing my hands to make the acquaintance of your sweet ass.”
He squeezed said ass. Incredible. Did not want to let go.