Riot (Predators MC 1)

“That’s it, baby. Open your mouth wider for me.”

Grace already felt as if her mouth was stretched to its limits, but she scooted closer to him, laying her hands on his thighs for leverage as she opened her mouth until he could slide another inch inside.

“Damn, baby, I’m going to come.”

Grace swelled with pride at pleasuring Ice the way he had her, wanting to give him everything, and ignored the hand in her hair, trying to pull her back as he came down her throat.

“Baby, damn. I warned you…” His groans and sighs filled the shower.

Grace gave his cock a final lick before she stood up. “Did I do well?”

Ice leaned against the wall, still trying to catch his breath. He’d had his dick sucked regularly since he was fourteen, some experienced, some fucking bad. What Grace lacked in skill, she more than made up for in eagerness.

“Baby, I can honestly say that was the best I ever had.”

Chapter 19

Grace slammed down Ice’s plate of cold sandwiches on the table in front of him then sat down with her own plate, which held a steak, small fingerling potatoes, and a homemade roll smothered in butter.

She bit into the roll, enjoying the warm buttery taste, ignoring Ice’s glare.

“I take it you’re still pissed about what I said; even though it was hours ago and I took you riding for an extra hour, even though my ass is sore from driving back and forth to see my baby.”

She choked down her bite of roll. “I’ve asked you repeatedly not to call me baby. I’m not your baby. One day, you’ll have a child. You can call it baby.”

“If I had a kid, I’d call it a kid. But I’m never going to have a kid. I call you my baby because I like taking care of you, making sure you have everything you need, and because”—Ice glanced own at his plate, pushing it away slightly—“you’ve never been anyone else’s, only mine. I never had that before.”

Grace felt dismayed and honored by his admission. She had struggled for so many years for her independence from her family. While they had learned to accept it to make her happy, it hurt Ice’s archaic masculine pride.

“Fine. You can call me baby.”

Ice nodded, and Grace began cutting her steak.

“You still pissed?”

Her steak knife banged to her plate. “I had just given you my first blowjob, and instead of saying something romantic or even something like, maybe, good job, you compared it to others you’d had by God knows how many women,” she hissed.

“I said it was the best.”

His male reasoning had her clutching the knife in her hand. “How would you like it if I compared something you do to someone else?”

“Like what?” he asked suspiciously.

She laid down her knife and took a bite of her steak, chewing thoughtfully. “I know. When I went out with Jones—”

“Who’s Jones?” Ice stiffened.

“He’s a professor from the college,” Grace explained. “Like I was saying, when I went out with Jones—”

“How many times did you go out with him?”

“If you will let me talk, I will tell you.”

Ice’s mouth snapped closed.

“When I went out with Jones before the prison riot, he took me to dinner. He complimented me on how much he admired my teaching skills, how my yard looked, on how well my dogs behaved…” At that, Ice snorted, but she ignored it and continued. “Even on how pretty I looked in the candlelight at our table.”

“He did a lot of complimenting,” Ice replied coldly.

“Yes, he did. And he did it gracefully.”

“Which department did you say he worked in?”

“He works in the English department,” she informed him then saw his narrow-eyed stare. “Why?”

“Because I’m going to go beat the shit out of him. I’ll let you know if he takes it gracefully.”

Grace’s chair scraped back from the table as she got up, going to her kitchen. Sliding the warm, covered plate from the oven, she then paused by the refrigerator to get him a beer. She went back to the table and set his new plate down in front of him, retaking her seat.

“Thank you,” Ice said, picking up his knife and fork.

“You’re welcome,” Grace muttered ungraciously.

Ice cut up his steak but before he took a bite, he gently laid his knife and fork down on the plate and turned toward her.

Cupping her cheek in the palm of his hand, his thumb brushed her full bottom lip. “I’m sorry, baby. It’s just what you did in the shower made me feel shit I’ve never felt before. I tried to tell you that, and it came out all wrong.”

Grace melted at his explanation. She had wanted it to feel special, and he had just given her that.

“I’m sorry about Jones, too. I shouldn’t have thrown him at you. You wouldn’t have actually hurt him, would you?”