Dirty Trick (Perfectly Matched 1)

She glared at him and tossed her hair with an indignant sniff. “They don’t call me Grace for nothin’.” She turned on her heel and made her way up to the house without further incident.

That was one of the best things about his Gracie. Aside from her innate kindness, generous nature, and glorious ass. She had a great sense of humor and was as happy to be the butt of the joke as the one cracking it. Not often you found that many good qualities in one person. Hell, his father had spent a lifetime and most of his money trying to find one that had more than just the ass. He made a mental note to call and check on how things were going with stepmom number five.

“Come in. We can watch a scary movie or something,” she said, stepping inside.

The mention of a movie almost made him wince. Serena had really put him on notice tonight, and it had scared the shit out of him. He wasn’t sure if she was just breaking his balls for the sheer joy of it or she hadn’t been satisfied with their earlier conversation, but she’d almost hung him out to dry. Still, he’d managed to recover, and now the night was turning out exactly how he’d wanted. He’d get some couch time with Grace and the chance to get close to her. She’d been giving off major signals at the bar, and it was time to see if that was just her newfound confidence making her flirty or if she’d actually started to see him as someone she could be with.

The dogs padded in, and she gave them both a quick rub before heading over to the living room and flipping on the TV. She kicked off her shoes with a sigh and turned to face him. “This is my favorite part of the day. Well, second to taking off my bra.”

Her casual admission stuck with him as she shuffled into the kitchen, presumably to make popcorn. She loved taking off her bra, he loved when she took off her bra. Seemed like a no brainer that she should go ahead and—

“Do you want some coffee or a beer or something?”

Now that he wasn’t the DD, he might as well. “I’ll take a brew. You want me to go ahead and pick something new we haven’t seen from the pay channels?”

It was still two days before actual Halloween, so there was an array of horror movies on. It should have been easier, but he knew Grace, and although she’d never admit it, she had a strict movie code. No sick kids, no kidnapped kids, no dogs that die in the end—even if the family gets a new puppy to take the sting out of it—nothing with clowns or dolls coming to life, and if there was even a hint of maggots, she was out of there. Not that she would havecalled them rules or even acknowledged that she didn’t like those kinds of movies. But he’d held her through enough body-wracking sobs at the end of dog movies to know that things wouldn’t end well if he didn’t stick to the status quo.

She breezed past him on the way to her bedroom and deposited a beer on the table in front of him.

“I’m getting into my PJ’s. Can you let the dogs out?”

He quickly made a selection, standard zombie fare laced with the black humor they both appreciated, and whistled for the dogs. How strange that he never realized how homey this all was. If someone was on the outside looking in, they would probably say the two of them seemed like a long-standing, happy couple. He’d never envisioned himself as being half of one of those, but he found himself liking the idea of it more than he ever could have imagined. So tonight, in the dark, when she stuck her cold feet under his butt the way she always did, he’d make his move. Something subtle that would get her mind turned in that direction, too. If she only took a second to think about it, she’d have to see that they were already pretty much a couple.

Without the sex.

“To her knowledge,” he muttered, his shoulders tensing at the reminder of his deceit. She’d nearly laid him low with guilt earlier at the bar when she’d thrown her arms around him and declared that he was her best friend. So much so that he’d almost come clean, and would have if he’d had any idea what he could have said to defend his actions. What had seemed such a clear and obvious path at the start was now nothing but a hot, muddy mess in his head, and he needed some time to figure out how to explain it in a way that would make her understand. He’d never meant to hurt her. He’d just wanted her to give him a chance to love her, and now, it seemed like he might actually have that chance. Just the two of them. The real Trick and the real Grace. Honestly.

He stood by the door and waited for the dogs to come back from their bathroom break when she entered the room dressed in her favorite Rolling Stones t-shirt and a pair of yoga pants. He barely resisted the urge to ask her to turn around for him. She wasn’t the only one who appreciated those pants. They hugged her in all the right places, from her flat stomach and softly rounded hips to her juicy ass.

Skeeter streaked toward the door, and he opened it for the panting dog. A good thirty seconds later, Gandalf followed behind, panting as well, but at the pace of a cargo ship.

“I think he needs a diet.” He closed the door behind them. They wasted no time taking up residence on Gandalf’s giant bed, piling on top of one another in a heap.

Grace gasped in mock horror. “Don’t say the D-word in front of him. You’ll give him a complex.” She stretched over to scratch his muzzle. “Besides, he’s not fat. He’s just got a lot of extra skin.”

He did have that, but he also ate like a hippopotamus and would definitely benefit from some extra walks every week. He made a silent vow to work on that. If, after tonight, Grace ever let him back into her house again. Nerves kicked up again, and he strived for casual, sitting down next to her and setting his feet up on the coffee table. Before he’d even sat back against the cushions, Grace had assumed the position, burrowing her fuzzy-sock-clad feet under his left ass-cheek and tossing an orange throw over her lap.

“So what are we watching?”

She passed him the bowl of popcorn, and he snagged a few kernels before picking up the remote.

“Zombies in London.”

He pressed the select button, and the credits rolled. The room was quiet for a long moment before the music started, and he found himself stiffening—in more ways than one. How could he have not realized this exact situation, albeit in a public theater, had led to the most erotic sexual experience of his life just the night before?

Could be he wasn’t the only one. When the opening score started, she tensed, the feet under his butt curling a little. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

They settled in and soon enough, the initial tension faded with their enjoyment of the movie. That was the thing with Grace. It wasn’t the sex, although the sex had wrecked him. And even if it was just that, he’d have been tempted to try and lock that situation up for a lifetime. The thing was, she was also fun to be around. He liked her company as much as her body.

A particularly gruesome zombie lunged forward to nosh on some brains, and Grace re-enforced his assessment when she squealed, “Ugh, eww…awesome.”

She leaned forward and dug some popcorn out of the bowl on his lap, nudging it against his cock. The big guy pepped up instantly, alert and ready to see what was what. He shifted and sent “down boy” vibes to his lower half. He’d finally gotten things under control again when lo and behold, and unexpected love scene cropped up. Two of the last nine uninfected humans on the planet had decided that it was their job to re-populate the earth one bang at a time and started going at it like animals. He feigned disinterest and reached for his beer to take a swallow, but when things got all Cinemax on screen, it was hard to act impartial. The feet under his bottom were flexing and relaxing, and when he risked a glance at Grace, her lips were parted and her breath was short.

Was it his imagination, or had she shot him a glance under her lashes? He sat frozen with indecision. What if he made his move now and she freaked out on him? Or what if he didn’t and blew his best window of opportunity? This was what he’d been waiting for almost since the day they’d met and what he’d been planning for since the Halloween party.

Time to roll the dice. He straightened and set the popcorn onto the table. When he reclined against the cushions, he laid a gentle hand on her calf and gave it an almost imperceptible squeeze.

…

Grace kept her eyes glues to the screen. Had she made that happen with her mind? The intimate but subtle touch? She’d been sitting there willing it so hard that her spleen ached, so that seemed like real a possibility. But now what? Like, was that even a move or was Trick just getting comfy?

She shifted her head as little as possible until she could get a surreptitious look at him. If it had been on purpose, he wasn’t giving it away. His face was like stone, and he seemed intent on the action taking place on the screen. She couldn’t blame him. That chick was super flexible, and things were about to culminate, if her moaning was any indicator. She was a noisy one, but after Grace’s own recent activities, she didn’t blame her one bit. It had been easy to keep things quiet with Victor. Now that she’d had a taste of the good stuff, she was pretty sure she’d never settle for silent again.

“Oh, God, yes. Right there,” the bad actress mewled.

And even at that, the acting was good enough to send Grace’s heart pounding, and she couldn’t help but look at Trick.

Old fears came back, weaving their nefarious magic. There were reasons she’d sidelined him from the get go. He could so easily destroy what was left of her heart. Wasn’t that what she’d thought? So why did that reasoning seem so flawed now? Maybe it was the recent sexual revelation. Or maybe it was the way his hands felt on her calf. Familiar. Knowing. Tender. Was she strong enough to handle what came next if she and Trick slept together? Or had she let her libido convince her that a little pleasure wouldn’t ruin an awesome friendship?

She could almost hear her grandmother in her ear, urging her with the wicked cackle. “Don’t be a wuss, girlie. The time to act is now while you’ve still got the goods to convince him. Once everything starts drooping, the opportunities don’t come near as often.”

True that, Gram. Time to be bold. She wrestled her gaze away from his mouth and met his eyes. “Trick?” she whispered. It came out like a wordless croak so she tried again. “Trick.”

He didn’t turn his head when he answered. “Yes?”

“What are you doing?” She stared hard at his profile in the dim light hoping to read lips since she was fairly certain she wouldn’t be able to hear him over the thundering of her heart.

But his response came through loud and clear.

“That depends, Gracie. What is it that you want me to be doing?”

The blood rushed to her ears, and she pursed her lips together hard. He couldn’t be messing with her. That wouldn’t be something Trick would think to do. Not like this, at any rate. So was this a pass? And if so, why was it the most ambiguous pass ever? She sat for another long moment, stumped as to how to respond.

“Gracie?” This time, in spite of the cacophony going on inside her, his low, silky baritone drifted over her like a touch.

His tone and the accompanying squeeze of his fingers on her calf simplified things some. He wouldn’t run out of the house in shock if she told him what had been on the tip of her tongue—that she wanted him. This was him making a move, and tentative though it had been at first, it was getting clearer by the second.

The moaning on screen got louder and the sound of a headboard slamming against the wall rang through the room. Some inane part of her wanted to tell the lovers on screen to keep it down in case the zombies heard, but her mouth felt glued shut. She closed her eyes for a second and wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. Trick sucked in a breath. He was looking at her now. She could feel it. She lifted her gaze to meet his and for a second, she was lost. The longing there was twice as stunning as his touch, and she couldn’t form a coherent thought. She was irrevocably, completely undone.