Page 29 of Rough Return

Lies. Had to be. Especially since she was his wife. “And yet, I’ve been here every single night alone.”

“But not alone, right? Your boyfriend stays here.”

“He’s not my boyfriend. And he stays here because my husband would rather be anywhere else than here.” She spoke softly because saying the words caused a physical pain in her throat. A tightness that made it hard to even breathe.

Grier turned. “Fiona.” He crossed to her, stood less than a breath away, hands at his side, eyes searching hers.

The decision was hers. He’d given her that. Instead of moving closer or kissing him, she reached for his belt, unfastened the buckle, and slid the black leather through the loops, pulling it free. She waited for his half-smile before she went after the button. He took her hand. “Let’s lock the door this time.”

As he walked away, she pulled his phone from his back pocket. “And let’s shut these off.” No phone call would rob her of the moment she’d been waiting for since she was a teenager. She tossed the phone on the sofa.

He flipped the deadbolt and turned to her. “God, you’re beautiful.” This time he tangled his fingers in her hair and pulled until their lips crashed together. His mouth, as hot and hard as his body, caressed hers, made promises, turned her whimper into a full-on moan. She let her hands dance over his chest, felt the firm cord of muscles and sinew under her palms. A hundred times she’d seen him without a shirt, imagined what it would be like to touch him while he wanted her instead of forcing herself on him.

She anchored one hand at the back of his neck and held on when he slipped his tongue in her mouth. Her world shifted and there was only Grier. His hands on her skin. His mouth on hers. His dick was hard and ready as he lifted her. She wrapped her legs around him and held on as he carried her up the stairs, never breaking the kiss.

He brought her into the bedroom, and she slid down the front of him until her feet touched the floor before she looked up at him. Her desire exploded, stole her breath. Never had a man looked at her with such intensity, made her feel so wanted. Warmth spread through her as she stared at him.

This moment lived up to its hype, to every dream and fantasy she’d ever had about Grier. He smiled. “Remember when I told you to change into something sexy for me?”

Oh yeah. She remembered. She nodded.

“If I ever tell you that again, this—” He wagged his finger in front of her. “—is what I want you to wear.”

She smiled. “You think you’re going to tell me how to dress?”

“Oh, baby, that’s the least of the things I’m going to tell you to do.” He stepped closer, lifted the hem of her shirt, and ran his finger back and forth over her stomach. Her skin burned.

“Yeah? You think so?” That wasn’t the plan at all. She would be giving the orders, taking control, showing him who was the boss.

He pulled her in closer. “I know so.” His touch burned. His gaze smoldered. And she took in everything, every breath, the slightest touch, the fire in his eyes. “You’re going to do exactly what I say and you’re going to want to do it.”

“Wanna bet?” She would wager everything she owned that, by the end of the night, she would have him wrapped around her little finger. Such a waste of time standing here bantering when they could be on the bed fucking.

“Breakfast in bed?”

She grinned. “I like my eggs scrambled.”

“And I like my bacon crisp.” He kissed her, softly, a feather over her lips. When he pulled away, she strained to reach him. He spun her around so her back was against his chest. His mouth trailed from her earlobe to her shoulder while he cupped and massaged her breast with one hand and slipped the other into her pajama pants. “Somebody forgot their panties this morning.”

She would have answered but he slipped a finger between her wet folds, swiped it over her clit, then pushed back inside her. Her breath rushed out in a gasp.

“You like that?” He nibbled her neck as his finger pumped in and out. There was only Grier. The rest of the world ceased to exist. She twisted her shoulders, wanting, needing to kiss him, but she couldn’t move far enough, and his hold tightened.

“Grier, kiss me.”

“No.” He withdrew his touch, left her cold and shivering, hot and burning. “Don’t turn around.”

He could play his game, and she’d go along for a minute. Until her head cleared at least. She waited, listening to the furniture, her mirror, moving and the water running in the bathtub, his footsteps going down then coming up the steps. Still, she didn’t move.

* * *

So many fantasies. So many nights he’d spent picturing Fiona. And tonight, he would make all those fantasies come true.

“Come here.” He stood at the edge of her bed. The bath had been run, a steaming bath that would be cold if he didn’t get her in there soon, but he needed to look at her, to see her gray eyes go stormy, to watch her lip quiver just before he kissed her, to hear the little moans in the back of her throat when he touched her. Right now, he needed to savor Fiona. His wife. The way he should have all these weeks.

She turned and walked toward him, more accurately stalked toward him. Her smile, one of the sexiest things he’d ever seen, radiated toward him. “Is the bath for you or for me?”

He grinned because not to grin would have just been silly. “It’s for us.”