Dirty Trick (Perfectly Matched 1)

“Yes?” she responded when she could force the word from her throat.

“I need to tell you something.” His hand moved higher, tracing a pattern on her knee and her heart slammed hard against her ribs.

“So tell me.” But she didn’t wait for him to answer. Instead, she let her instincts guide her and shoved the throw aside. On all fours, she crawled toward him. Words didn’t matter anymore because she wasn’t stopping no matter what he said. She covered his mouth with hers on a whimper, the elation at finally kissing him making her dizzy with excitement. Odd how she’d had more sex in the past week than she’d had in the past two years, and she’d never been more turned on. She knew why. She just hadn’t been able to admit it to herself until now.

She loved him. She’d always loved him. As a best friend, for sure, but even then, it had been different than what she had with Serena. There had always been an edgy tension right under the surface that she’d made excuses for and struggled to ignore. She’d never felt that way before. Not around Vic, not around Seth or any of the guys she’d dated. Except Catman, she reminded herself. But even then, when she thought of him, there was nothing but fondness. She never would’ve gotten the courage to try with Trick at all if not for those confidence boosting and oh-so-freeing nights with him. But as good as it had been, something was missing. The joy and comfort of being around someone who knew her favorite movie, and how she liked her coffee. Who she could trust to have her back and be there when she needed him. And here he was.

Trick.

“I need you to know, no matter what happens after tonight, how much I care about you, Gracie.”

The hair on the back of her neck stood up, and she froze. Was this his way of setting her up for a fall? To warn her that he might not be able to go the distance with her? Maybe. But as she looked at the sincerity in his face, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that she believed him and that she finally said out loud what she should have known more than a year ago. She’d leave the rest to fate.

“Me, too.”

His scent was so familiar, she wanted to burrow closer and breathe him in until he was all she could smell. But she was impatient. She thrust her hands under his shirt, and pressed her palms to his heated skin.

“God, you feel so good,” she murmured. His body was all lean muscle and golden skin, and she couldn’t get enough of it.

He scooped her into his arms and carried her up the stairs, kicking the door closed behind him on a sulky-faced pair of dogs. “Sorry guys, we’re doing this for your own good. What’s about to go down here could scar you for life.”

She managed to choke out a laugh as he crossed the gleaming hardwood floors and set her on the bed.

“I’ve thought of this moment, with you looking up at me exactly like that, so many times, I can’t even count them.” His words were so softly spoken that she strained to hear him, but when she did, they settled in close to her heart. He’d wanted her. Judging by his words, he’d wanted her long before now. Maybe from the beginning? Had they wasted all this time because she was afraid of being betrayed again? Well, she wasn’t afraid anymore.

Before she could respond, he swooped down over her, angling her back against the pillows, and kissed the breath out of her. Odd, she’d been so used to Vic’s terrible technique that she hadn’t realized that most guys were good kissers. Catman had been lovely, and Trick put the awe in awesome. All the passion of Catman with the added, tender, and unquantifiable bonus of love driving them.

Trick’s long body stretched over hers, pressing her farther into the soft mattress. His chest smashed against her breasts, his hips tucked into hers, creating glorious pressure. He tucked his knee between her thighs, and she spread them wide to accommodate him.

He lifted his head and gave her the most intense stare, it sent her heart knocking. It was wholly unnerving, and she scrambled to dial the tension back some. “Bummer. I was hoping I’d finally get to hear you say ‘spread ‘em’ like you do at work.”

He held her gaze and a slow grin spread over his face. “In that case, maybe I should get my cuffs?”

Grace shook her head furiously, in spite of the blast of white hot heat that hit her right in the pelvis at the thought. This was enough for now…almost too much. They could save the wilder play for later.

God, she hoped there was a later.

She shoved back her fear and gave him a smile of her own. “Just me and you tonight, officer.” She gripped his shirt and dragged his mouth back to hers, pouring every ounce of need into their kiss.

His strong hands slipped into her hair, anchoring her to him, taking control. The thick ridge tucked against her hip grew harder, and he ground himself closer. She groaned against his mouth, and his fingers tightened.

“Sit up,” he gasped as he pulled away. He shifted back to sit on the bed as she propped herself against the headboard. Leaning in, he grasped the frayed hem of her t-shirt and tugged it over her head.

The soft cotton covered her ears, but she thought she heard him mutter a prayer. When the cool air hit her bare nipples, they pebbled tighter, and she resisted the urge to cover herself.

“You should throw away all your bras,” he murmured, reaching out a hand to trace the slope of one breast. “Because binding these is a f**king crime.”

His words slid over her like warm honey, and the last of her nerves disappeared. You’re sexy. You’re good in bed. He thinks you’re beautiful. And you deserve this.

Letting instinct take over, she cupped his warm hand tightly in hers until it covered her breast. She groaned when he ran his thumb over the stiff tip.

“Nice. So responsive,” he whispered. “I can’t wait to put my mouth on you.”

She couldn’t either, and was about to request that he get on that, when he pulled away to curl his fingers around the waist of her pants. Without hesitation, she lifted her bottom so he could slide them off. He tossed them to the side and for a long moment just stared down at her, his hot eyes skimming from her head to her toes and back again.

“Perfect.”

“I’m glad you think so, but I’m at a distinct disadvantage here.” He seemed to hesitate, and she eyed him hard. “You’re not chickening out, are you?”

“Oh, hell no,” he said, his flat, sure tone calming her sudden resurgence of nerves. “I’ll strip, but first I want you to lay on your stomach. I’ve had wet dreams about that ass, and I just need to see it in the flesh.”

She gathered up her courage and slunk down on the bed to roll onto her tummy.

…

“Holy mother of god, you’re sexy.”

And damn, was she. But even though he hadn’t been lying when he’d told her he wanted to see her bare ass, that was only a part of the reason behind his request. Maybe he was overestimating how memorable his dick was, but he was suddenly terrified she’d get one look at it in the flesh and recognize it. The thought—and the ensuing guilt—had been hard to shake, but now, in the face of the finest ass in the Western hemisphere, it was hard to even remember his own name.

“Are you coming down here or what?” she mumbled against the pillow, squirming restlessly against the mattress.

“Or what” was definitely out of the question as the remaining blood drained from his head at the sight of her wriggling bottom. Using the distance and dimness of the room to his advantage he stripped off his shirt and pants. He left his underwear on, and then lowered himself back to the bed next to her. Her face was still buried in the pillow, but her frame had gone stiff, with fear or anticipation, he wasn’t sure.

He wasted no time in trying to get her to soften and relax, trailing his fingertips over one ankle, a sleekly muscled calf, to her thigh—which pebbled with goosebumps at the touch—and finally, over the firm cheek of her ass. He’d meant to keep going. To massage the tense muscles in her back for a minute, but he was stuck. The plump curves grabbed a hold of his attention and hung on like a pitbull.

He bent low and sank his teeth into one curve.

“Oof!” she squealed against the pillow.

He pulled away, but she wiggled her hips and thrust her bottom back toward him.

Her low voice drifted from above. “Just startled,” she gasped. “Don’t stop.”

Catman had bitten her too, and she’d liked it, so it was no surprise. What was surprising was the massive jolt of possessiveness that slammed through him and the need to obliterate all thoughts of the masked stranger from both their minds that raged through him. It had been great between them, but good old Catman had served his purpose. Now it was time for him to bury the bastard.

He bent low and let his warm breath wash over the back of her knees, and she shivered lightly.

“Nice,” he whispered before cupping her thigh and leaning in to flick his tongue against the tender skin, reveling in the scent of lavender that teased his senses. She had been a rabid collector of lotions since he’d known her, and was notorious for holding her arm up and making him smell her. Little did she know that every one of those occasions was an exercise in self-control for him. One he hoped would help him now because she smelled good enough to eat.

She shifted restlessly beneath his hand, and he pressed his mouth to the spot that was still damp from his tongue. This time, she stiffened and gasped.

“It’s just a knee, for crying out loud,” she mumbled. “Why does that feel so good?”

He shook his head slowly, letting the rasp of his five o’clock shadow scrape the soft flesh, and she groaned.

“I’m hoping it’s all going to feel good, Gracie.” He nibbled his way up, taking his sweetass time, using his hands to massage her legs, dipping his thumbs inward as he went. By the time he reached the apex of her thighs, he could feel the heat pouring from her core, and the musky scent of feminine arousal obliterated the lavender. His already swollen c**k grew thicker and more insistent. He ground his hips into the mattress with a silent prayer for control.

Slow. Take it slow.

“Touch me, Trick. Please.” Her voice was a dream he’d dreamt a thousand times. Husky. Needy. Catching a little when she said his name.

He growled and roughly jerked her legs apart, letting his thumbs slick along her waiting heat. “You’re on fire.”

She twisted her head on the pillow and tried to look down at him, but gave up on a moan. “You have no idea.”

He let out a pained laugh. “I think I might.” But the rush of wetness against his hand told him that she was as ready as he was. He sent two fingers deep, and her pliant flesh opened to accept them.

“Yes,” she hissed, her head tossing against the pillow.

He pressed in and retreated, his hips pulsing against the mattress in time with thrusts, the ache in his balls increasing with every move. She rocked back against his hand, her slender back bowing as she did.

He didn’t stop the pressure, working her faster and harder, taking note of the signs her body was giving him. Short of breath, muscles straining, the tight column of her sex flexing. She was close. “Can you come like this? If I take you from behind?” he bit out through gritted teeth.

“I’m not sure,” she gasped, arching back faster, bearing down on his hand. “But if you don’t help me find out right now, I’m going to scream.”

She’d scream. He’d make damn sure of it.

He slid his hand away from her, and she whimpered at the loss. Rising to his knees, he made short work of his underwear before urging her to lift her bottom up. He almost lost it then as he looked down in the moonlight, seeing his hands cupping the beautiful, round, white cheeks. The anticipation of watching his c**k slide in and out, slick with her juices until they both exploded and he came deep inside—

Fuck. Condom.

He froze and took a long, shuddering breath. Before he could speak to tell her he needed to take a quick timeout, she said the four sweetest words he’d ever heard.