Secrets & Lies (Roughshod Rollers MC 3)

For me, it’s only worked in my favor. All barriers are gone now. I didn’t realize that there was a part of me still waiting for that final confirmation of his innocence, despite the fact that I no longer cared for the end result. If he had been guilty, I don’t think it would have had a huge impact, because the person that Grant was so long ago is gone now, and I know and love the man who is my life in the present.

But I can’t deny that knowing for certain has made the part of my mind that still wondered relax. Every sensation now, seems tenfold, from my love to the happiness I felt when Grant said we can try one more time, to the desire that is now flooding through me. The world feels brighter and more hopeful; Grant has trusted me with the last of his secrets and we are going to attempt to move forward from here.

Maybe it won’t completely work out. In a month or two, maybe even in a year, we might decide that this relationship isn’t for us. But we’re going to give it a fighting chance, and that’s more important than anything else.

“You’re thinking hard,” Grant comments, his voice low. “Are you thinking about me?”

“Of course,” I say cheekily. I lean in and play with the collar of his shirt, my fingers brushing against his neck. “I’m thinking about just how much I want you to fuck me.”

Grant’s fingers tighten on my hips at my words, his grip almost bruising. My fingers brush against a bump on his skin, and I pull down his collar to see the mark I left on him last night. Sparks fly through my body at the sight of it as I remember, in detail, what happened between us last night.

“Good,” Grant says, and his hands slowly slide over my hips, toward my spine, causing a shiver to go up it as it arches at the unexpected contact. “But I’m still wearing too many fucking clothes. Are you going to fix that?”

“I’m getting there,” I say breathlessly. “All in good time.”

I lean in and lick the mark on his neck as he opens his mouth to reply, and his response changes into a guttural moan instead. I can taste the salt of his sweat, and he wriggles beneath me, his erection straining to be free. I gyrate my hips slowly on his lap, teasing him, and he bucks upward, seeking more of the pleasure I’m giving him.

Then I reach out and play with the buttons on his shirt. I pop them open one by one, blowing against his sweaty skin as I do, and he groans again. He leans over and bites on my collar, and I almost rip the last button off as I jerk at the pleasurable feeling.

“Shit,” I hiss. “If you do that, I’ll ruin your clothes.”

“Do I look like I care?” he asks, his voice low.

My heartbeat is wild in my chest, and I slip off his lap, so I can stand over him, leaning down to show him my ample breasts as I reach out to play with the zipper on his trousers, leaving his shirt hanging off his shoulders. He takes the invitation, his hands reaching out to cup my breasts and pinch the nipples. It makes it hard to think, but I manage to pull the zipper down and pop the button on his pants.

Then suddenly, he stands. I take a step back before he can push me over, and his hands lift me up, making me wrap my legs around him. His open pants slip down his hips and pool on the floor as he steps forward, carrying me, leaving him only in his boxers and an open shirt. His penis strains against a wet patch on the front, and I can feel it bouncing against me as Grant moves toward the bed.

“I think you’ve teased enough,” he says. “It’s my turn now.”

He drops me a short distance to the bed and steps between my legs. The silk of his boxers brush against my thighs and the sensation drives me wild as every over-sensitive nerve I have is set on fire. He shrugs his shoulders and his shirt falls down, the cotton gently stroking my skin on his way down.

“I want to feel you,” Grant says, leaning down to kiss my jawline. “I want to be in you and f

eel the way you clench around me.”

“Then do it!” I gasp, my back arching off the bed, groaning at the heated feeling that’s going through me. “Please!”

He growls at my plea and his hands wrap around my hips. I hear the rustle of material, and then his boxers slip to the floor. I can feel the heat from his leaking penis as it rubs against me, and I gasp sharply at the sensation, my legs wrapping around his hips to pull him in closer, wanting him so badly that I can’t even think straight any more.

Then I feel the tip of his penis sinking in me. My eyes roll back and my hips thrust shallowly down, trying to take more of him in as he slowly pushes inside. I can barely breathe in the heat that’s surrounding us, and all I can focus on is his skin and the way he’s penetrating me so deeply until he’s finally all inside.

I pant, trying to catch my breath. We’re connected so thoroughly that I’m dizzy with desire. I tighten my legs around Grant, trying to urge him to move, to touch me, to do something before I’m swallowed entirely by the lust throbbing through me in powerful waves. His hips jerk and I groan deeply at the feeling.

“Move,” I gasp.

He doesn’t reply, too breathless to do so. But I feel him sliding out of me, and then, without warning, he slams back inside.

I’m too physically and emotionally spent to keep up as Grant sets a quick, punishing pace. I weakly try to meet his thrusts, but I’m too overwhelmed by everything, especially when he angles his body and he hits a spot that makes stars explode behind my eyes. My body jerks back and forward with each of his thrusts, and I’m helpless to do anything other than feel him and clench around his thick penis, wanting to keep it within me as long as I can while, at the same time, begging him to draw me over the edge and into release.

Grant thrusts once, twice more and my vision whitens. My entire body shudders, wracked with pleasure, and I’m carried away on the waves of release that wash over me as my orgasm hits unexpectedly. My hands find Grant’s shoulders and I cling to him like he’s an anchor in the storm, barely feeling him thrust into me once more before he, too, orgasms deep within me.

Soon, though, my eyes clear and I pant, gazing up at Grant with tired eyes. He’s falling forward, toward me, but he catches himself as he braces his arms on either side of me with a breathless laugh, pulling his flaccid penis from me as he does so. His chest is heaving and he twists his body so that he can collapse down beside me.

For a long moment, neither of us say anything, just trying to catch our breaths. Then Grant grins.

“Just so you know… This wasn’t why I asked you to come around,” he says.

I snort in laughter and reach out to poke him in the side.