My Rules (Kingston Lane Book 2)
My Rules: Chapter 18

My face falls as the fairy tale dissipates, and I stuff the card back into the envelope.

The kids all laugh and bounce around in excitement as they wait for some information from me, and I just want to scream. “There’s been a mistake. These flowers aren’t for me, Miss Marlene.” I take them back to her. “These are for you.”

The children all laugh, as if this is the funniest thing they have ever seen.

“What’s wrong?” she whispers.

“You take them.” I shove the vase into her arms. “I don’t want them.”

“Why not?”

“They’re from my ex-husband.”

“Oh.” Her face falls.

“Do what you want with them,” I murmur.

“Like what?”

“Throw them in the trash for all I care.” I stuff the card into my handbag and clap my hands loudly as I march toward the door. “Let’s go to the library. Mrs. Jones is waiting for us.”

Marlene awkwardly toddles back to the front office with the huge bunch of roses as my eyes glow red. If he thinks he’s going to ruin one more day for me, he has another thing coming. What a joke of a man he is.

How dare he send me flowers.

“So what are we looking for?” Chloe asks as we walk through the lingerie store.

“Something that doesn’t say I haven’t had sex in eighteen months, and my vagina is probably closed over by now, and I’ve totally forgotten what to do.”

“Got it.” She keeps looking through the racks. “Did Juliet tell you she’s thinking of renting out her house?” she says.

“No.” I stop what I’m doing and look up at her. “Since when?”

“Since Liam is looking for a new place to live.”

“Liam, her brother?”

“Yeah.”

“What happened to his house?”

“Juliet thinks that as long as he’s living in the house he shared with his late girlfriend, he’s never going to move on.”

“That’s a good point.” I think about it for a bit as I keep looking through the underwear. “He’s like the catch of the century; I don’t understand how someone hasn’t snatched him up. Gorgeous as hell too.”

“I don’t think he wants to be.” She holds up a pink lacy bra-and-G-string set. “This is nice.”

“It is.” I flick through to replace my size. “Hmm, probably true.” I put it into my basket.

“I can’t imagine what it’s like losing someone you love to death.”

“You know, as horrible and as selfish as this sounds, I think it would be easier than loving someone with your whole heart and replaceing out your entire relationship has been a lie,” I say as I keep looking. “I mean, at least you know they loved you back.”

“Yeah, but you get over assholes. Sure, it takes a while, but eventually you just do. But do you ever really recover from grief?”

“This is true.” I throw another set of underwear into the basket.

“Oliver asked me to move in with him last night.”

“He did?” I smile, but I notice her face is flat. “What’s wrong? You don’t want to?”

“I do . . .” She shrugs. “I don’t know. I just kind of thought I wouldn’t live with someone until we had some kind of commitment in place, you know?”

My eyes flick up to meet hers. “You want to get married?”

“No, but . . .” Her voice trails off.

“No, but what?”

“I just don’t know if I want to live with him yet.”

“So don’t.”

“But then I don’t want him to think that I want to break up if I say no.”

“Just tell him that you’re not ready.” I throw another bra into my basket. “Or say you don’t want to live with your boyfriend until you get engaged.”

“You don’t think that sounds pushy, like I’m expecting a proposal or something? Because believe me, I’m not.”

“No,” I scoff. “Say it like it is. Chloe, if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the last five years, it’s that being Little Miss Nice Girl gets you nowhere.”

“True.”

Chloe glances at her watch. “Shit. We have to get moving. Our laser appointments are in half an hour across town.”

“Crap.” I begin to storm to the counter to pay. “I cannot miss that appointment.”

The sun is just coming over the horizon, and I smile as I power walk along with a spring in my step.

It’s just after 6:30 a.m. I’m out exercising, and I’m feeling very proud of myself. I’ve been eating well, sleeping great, and dreaming of a particular handsome man.

I feel good, so good that I can’t wipe the dreamy smile from my face.

I turn the corner onto Kingston Lane as I plan my day. Once I get home, I’ll go to school early and get some extra work done. Now that my weekend has turned into a six-day vacation, I want to get some extra lessons prepared for my substitute teacher.

Six days . . . with Blake.

I get a shiver of excitement. Honestly, things couldn’t be going better between us.

He isn’t being pushy or overbearing. In fact, I’m missing him. I usually see him a lot more than I have this week.

I glance up, and speak of the devil, Blake’s garage door slowly goes up, his car pulls out, and he breaks out into a breathtaking smile when he sees me walking up the road.

His car slowly drives toward me, and I grab the bottom of my T-shirt to pretend I’m going to flash my boobs at him. He chuckles and pulls the car into my driveway and gets out. He’s wearing a navy suit and a crisp white shirt. His heavenly cologne wafts through the air.

How didn’t I notice all these dreamy things about him before now? The man is a bona fide walking orgasm.

“I’d like a word with you inside, young lady.” He raises his eyebrow, as if acting angry.

“What about?”

“Street flashing.”

A thrill of excitement runs through me, and trying as hard as I can to act casual, I walk into my house; he follows me in and closes the front door behind him.

As soon as we’re in private, the mood changes between us. He stares down at me as I stare up at him, and the air crackles between us.

He steps forward and takes me into his arms and kisses me. His hands drop to my behind and grind me onto him.

Suddenly we’re desperate for each other, and we fall back as arousal takes us over.

“You’re all I can fucking think about,” he breathes against my lips.

“Same.” I push him to walk backward to the couch, and as his legs hit it, he falls down, and I climb over his lap. His hands go to my hip bones, and he begins to pull me down onto him as we kiss like animals.

He pulls out of the kiss to look up at me with dark eyes as my body rocks onto his erection. He’s thick and swollen and . . . he’d feel so good deep inside me.

Fuck.

I don’t want to play this waiting game anymore.

I want him now.

“Can you come over tonight?” I murmur against his lips.

He moans as his eyes flutter closed. “Cancún.” He whispers the word out.

“I want our first time to be here, in my bed.”

A frown crosses his face, and he pushes me off him and stands.

I try to sweeten the deal. “I’ll make you lasagna.”

“You don’t have time to make me lasagna, and besides, what makes you think I’m a sure thing?”

“Don’t do that to me.” I pull a whiny face. “I’m counting on it that you are.”

“We talked about this.” He looks down at me and takes my face into his hands. “We are waiting.”

“I know what I want, Blake.” I push him back onto the couch and straddle him again. “I’m done with waiting. I need you now.”

He smiles against my lips as his cock hits a new level of hard. “Be careful, Rebecca. I’m hanging on to my control by a thread here.”

He has to go to work.

I peel myself off his lap and take a step back, and he gingerly climbs off the couch. He rearranges his hard length in his suit pants.

“Tonight,” he breathes as he kisses me softly. This kiss is different. Soft and tender and filled with unspoken promise.

“Tonight.” I smile against his lips.

“Do you want me to get dinner on my way home?” he asks.

“Uh-huh.” I kiss him again and again and . . .

“Bec.” He steps back from me. “Unless you are going to call into work sick today, you need to stop. Right now.”

“Fine.” I giggle and step back. “Goodbye, Dr. Grayson.”

His dark eyes hold mine, and he rearranges himself in his suit pants again. “You’re going to fucking get it.”

“That’s the plan.”

He turns and without another word walks out of the house. With arousal screaming and thumping through my soul, I go to the window and watch him walk out to his car.

“Morning, Carol,” he calls as he gives her a wave.

His silver Porsche purrs like a kitten as it pulls down the street, and I bounce up and down on the spot.

“Ahhhhhh.”

Henley carries out a bottle of champagne and places it on the table in front of us.

“Wow, pulling out the big stuff.” Blake smiles. “Must have been some honeymoon. Where are these photos?”

Juliet and Henley have called us over for celebratory afternoon drinks.

“Well . . .” Henley smiles proudly as he puts his arm around Juliet. “We have some exciting news.”

Antony, Chloe, Blake, and I exchange looks . . . What’s this about?

Henley gestures to Juliet. “You go.”

“No, you go.” She smiles shyly.

“All right, then . . . Juliet’s pregnant.” Henley rises onto his toes, unable to contain his excitement. “And we couldn’t be happier. A little James is on the way.”

Oh . . .

The room erupts into laughter, and everyone jumps from their seat to hug the two expectant parents.

“I can’t believe this,” I whisper to Juliet. “I didn’t think you were even trying until later this year.”

Juliet shrugs. “Neither did we, but somebody has stepped in and gifted us with a baby.”

“Oh, I’m so excited.” I smile. “What a beautiful wedding present.” I put my hand down to her stomach. “So how far along are you?”

“Seven weeks. We were going to wait until the twelve-week mark to tell you all, but we just couldn’t.”

“And why should you? We want to celebrate this as well.” Blake laughs as he pulls her into a hug. “I’m so happy for you. Congratulations.”

“A little baby on Kingston Lane,” I whisper in awe.

“Now the street really is perfect.” Blake pulls Henley into a hug. “Well done, man. Well done.”

“Hucow.” Antony sneezes. “Hucow.” He sneezes again.

Huh?

Blake and Henley burst out laughing at something.

“What’s so funny?”

“The way he sneezes. He’s a fucking idiot.”

I walk into the staff room and take a seat at a table on my own. I don’t feel like small talking today. I have bigger things on my mind. Blake Grayson in all his glory is coming over tonight, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous.

What happens if it isn’t everything we both think it’s going to be?

What if the sex doesn’t live up to expectations?

I mean, it might not—just because our foreplay is off the hook doesn’t mean the sex will be.

From deep down in my psyche, an insecurity is lurking in the darkness. Blake has slept with some of the most beautiful women in the world, and I’m . . . well, I’m just me.

Although I look after myself, I’m definitely no supermodel. I have stretch marks and a bit of cellulite and curves where they have no right being.

I know it’s my personality Blake is in lust with, but what if my body lets down the party?

Realistically, moving forward, how long could he be with someone that he doesn’t replace attractive? I close my eyes in disgust with my wayward thoughts. Stop it, you fool.

It’s Blake.

He knows my body better than anyone. He sleeps beside me all the time.

Cut it out, you fool.

If there’s one thing I know about me beginning to date again, it’s that I need to step up and be brave. I can’t bring my baggage into this, or else we’re doomed before we even begin.

I think back to the other night when I freaked out and how beautiful and patient Blake was. He was prepared to shower alone so that I could calm down. I mean, in the end, he didn’t have to, and I joined him. But I know that if I didn’t go into that bathroom, he would have done whatever it took to be able to stay.

And it means a lot.

The beauty of Blake is that he knows my history . . . the downside is that I know his.

I pull out my phone.

Six missed calls.

John.

Fuck.

Leave me alone already.

Now that I have the house, I want nothing to do with him ever again. The phone rings in my hand. It’s him. Of course it is. He knows I’m on break at this time of the day. I need to set him straight.

“Hello,” I snap.

“Hi, Rebecca,” he says all happy-like.

“Why are you calling me? Has your Barbie collection become boring?”

“Very funny.”

“I think so.” I smirk. Being a bitch to John really does give me pleasure.

“I’m calling to see if you got my flowers.”

“They arrived.” I roll my eyes. “Yes.”

“Did you like them?”

“I threw them in the trash, John. I want nothing to do with you. Stop calling me.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Ahh . . . yes. I do.”

“Can we go out on a date over the weekend? Like old times.”

I screw up my face. This man is a fucking idiot. “Absolutely not. I don’t even want to speak to you. I’m serious, John. Go back to Barbie town. Our ship has sailed.”

“I know you don’t mean that.”

“Are you ignorant, dumb, or just plain stupid?” I whisper angrily. “We are over—forever.” I look around to see if anyone can hear me.

“If we were over, you would have divorced me.”

I frown.

“But you didn’t, and you don’t even realize it yet, but deep down, you didn’t want to get a divorce either.”

Honestly, this man is the living end. I’m selling pictures of my damn feet just to pay the fucking bills. How dare he think that he can even call me, let alone demand a date.

“The only reason I signed that contract is because I want the house.” I hold the phone really close to my ear, hoping that nobody else can hear me. “That’s it. Get the hell out of my life, and if you call me again, I’m blocking your number.”

“You block my number, I’m coming over to your house.”

“Then I’m getting a restraining order against you.”

“Do that and I am pressing assault charges on your psycho neighbor.”

“What?” I screw up my face. What the hell is he talking about now?

“I’ve got the photos of his little fist party on my face. I went to the hospital that night and made a full report of the incident. If he comes anywhere near you, I’m having him charged with aggravated assault.”

He wouldn’t.

“Go to hell, John. You’re such a liar.”

“You think I’m joking? Check the law. A pediatrician can’t hold a medical license if they have a criminal record.”

Reason two million why I hate this man. I begin to feel the hot surge of adrenaline as it rushes through my body.

“Don’t call me again.”

“We’re going out on Saturday night.”

“I won’t be blackmailed into anything. If you have a bone to pick with Blake Grayson, you take it up with him.”

He stays silent.

“But we both know you won’t because you’re a fucking coward, and we both know that Blake will beat you to a pulp again and rightly so.” I hang up the phone and throw it into my bag.

Fuck.

I think on it for a moment. I have to tell Blake so that he knows what the idiot is threatening.

I dig my phone back out and dial Blake’s number.

“You’ve called Blake Grayson. I can’t come to the phone right now. Please leave me a message, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

“Hi, Blake, it’s me. I think we’ve got a problem; can you call me when you get this, please?” I hang up and sit and stare at the wall for a while as my mind races at a million miles per minute. I can hear the other teachers all chattering happily in the background.

He wouldn’t do that to Blake . . . would he?

Yes. He would.

My phone rings, and the name Blake lights up the screen. I scramble to answer it.

“Hello.”

“Hey, Bec, what’s up?”

“Um.” Oh man, how do I put this? “So . . . John just threatened that if you come near me, he’s going to have you charged with assault.”

“Why were you speaking to John?” he fires back.

I screw up my face. Seriously? That’s the only thing he heard in that sentence? “He called, and I told him not to call me again, so then he got nasty and threatened that if you come near me, he’s going to have you charged with assault.”

“Of course he did,” he replies casually. “Don’t worry, I’ve already covered my bases.”

I frown. “I don’t understand.”

“Henley and I went down to the police station the day after it happened and made a formal complaint about him.”

“You did?”

“I’m not stupid. I knew it was coming.”

“How?”

“Not hard to work out. The man’s a fuckwit.”

“This is true.” I twist my lips as I think.

“Did you tell him we’re together?” he asks.

I hesitate before I answer. Wait a minute . . . “Are we together?”

“Yes. We’re together,” he snaps.

“Oh . . .” I think on this for a moment. “Are we not having a conversation about this?”

“This is the conversation.”

“Oh.” I smile. Why is his caveman act exciting to me? “How very presumptuous of you.”

“Not presumptuous, just stating the facts. Tell him.”

“No, because then he’s going to file a complaint.”

“He can do whatever he wants. I have it on record with a witness that he came over and caused a disturbance, and I was simply defending myself.”

Relief fills me. This won’t turn into a huge mess after all. “Oh, I love you.” My eyes widen. I did not just say that. “I mean . . . not love, love, I just . . .” Oh my god . . . help. “You know, relieved. For you and Henley. I love you and Henley, like friends . . . you know?” I’m spluttering and tripping over my words.

“Relax.” He chuckles. “I know what you mean.”

I close my eyes as my face flushes with embarrassment. I just told him I love him, and we haven’t even slept together yet.

I’m officially the world’s biggest loser. I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose.

“What do you feel like for dinner?” he asks to change the subject.

A muzzle.

“I don’t mind, whatever you feel like,” I whisper, embarrassed.

“I’m not sure you would want to eat what I feel like eating,” he says. His voice has that playful, naughty edge, and it brings a smile to my face.

“Behave yourself, Dr. Grayson.”

“Make me.”

“I’m going now.” I smirk.

“Goodbye, Miss Dalton.” He hangs on the line, and I smile harder.

“This time tomorrow, we will be on our way to Cancún,” I tell him.

“That’s if you survive tonight.”

I laugh out loud. “I really am going now, you deviant. Goodbye.” I hang up and feel my armpits begin to heat as an excited flush falls over me.

How is he so hot?

I get a feeling that maybe he won’t survive.

Blake

Lazarus’s eyes roam over my naked flesh as I lie on the table.

The firelight dances across his skin . . .

My cock twinges, and I hold my iPad closer . . .

Fuck me . . .

This story is hot.

“Good afternoon, Dr. Grayson,” a voice says from the door.

I fumble to quickly shut down my iPad and glance up. “Good afternoon, Judy.” I smile.

“What are you up to in your office all alone?”

Vampire porn . . . go away!

“Reading some research notes,” I lie.

“Anything interesting?”

“Not really.” I fake a smile . . . seriously, fuck off right now.

“Catch you later.”

I look left and right and open the file back up.

He steps closer, and I can see the huge erection tenting his pants. His arousal overtakes the room with an energy all its own.

The candles flicker as he approaches, and we stare at each other as the air crackles between us. Without a word, his hand slowly goes around my throat.

I swallow the lump in my throat as my cock thumps . . . fuck.

Ring, ring . . . My phone pulls me out of the moment.

“Blake Grayson,” I snap.

“Did you read it yet?” Antony whispers.

“I’m trying to now, but everybody keeps interrupting me,” I whisper.

“Seriously, it’s so fucking hot I can’t stand it.”

“Yeah . . . I’m getting the gist.” I wipe the perspiration from my brow.

“We need to replace out who wrote this as a matter of urgency because I’m left on a cliffhanger.”

“What do you mean?” I frown.

“The whole story isn’t there. It finishes just when it gets good.”

I scroll down. “What?”

“There’s only six chapters, and then there’s this weird iCloud link that’s supposed to be to the rest of the story, but it goes to nowhere.”

“What kind of setup is this?” I whisper angrily. “We replace this stupid flash drive with all these half-finished stories on it, and it sends us down this stupid fucking Kindle hole, and now we don’t get the end of the stories?”

“I know, bullshit.”

“Listen, get into that iCloud and replace the rest of this shit.”

“I can’t. I tried already.”

“Get Henley on it.”

“He tried too.”

“Then go to a computer geek person, and get them to do it,” I whisper.

The door bursts open. “Dr. Grayson, you’re needed in room twelve,” Judy tells me.

“Coming.”

She disappears out the door. “Got to go,” I tell Antony.

“Did you get to the part where he eats her out yet?”

“What?” I whisper. “With his fangs?”

“With his nine-inch tongue.”

My eyes widen.

“Seriously . . . fuck. Ing. Hell.”

“Get that fucking link open.” I hang up, then stand up to get back to work.

Jeez . . . I need a cold shower.

Rebecca

I sit on the couch and peer through the curtains as I act casual, and by acting casual I mean I’m dressed in normal everyday house clothes as if this is just a normal day and Blake is coming over for a normal dinner. I’m not mentioning the hours-long primping session I had upstairs all afternoon. My hair is done, my makeup natural; I’m shaved and waxed to within an inch of my life, and my vacation spray tan has been well and truly activated.

Suitcase is packed, and my ducks are all in a row . . . at least, I hope they are.

I’m ready . . . well, as ready as I’ll ever be.

I see headlights pull into the cul-de-sac, and my heart skips a beat. Blake’s home.

My heart begins to thump in my chest . . . Blake’s home.

Ahhhhhh.

Fucking Blake’s home.

Suddenly I’m freaking out. I jump from the couch and run upstairs and look at myself in the mirror. “This is fine,” I tell the nervous girl in the mirror. “You’ve got this.” I turn and look at my behind in the mirror. “But do you really?” I reply to her.

I hear the front door open. “Hey,” he calls from downstairs as he walks in.

Shit.

How do I get myself into these situations?

“I got Italian,” he calls, and I hear him walk into the kitchen as he begins to unpack the food. “Where are you?”

I put my head into my hands and take a long, steadying breath.

I want this. More than anything I want this, and I know that I need to push through the nerves and get on with it. I drop my shoulders to prepare myself.

Go.

I walk downstairs to replace Blake in the kitchen, pouring two glasses of wine. He’s wearing a charcoal suit and a light-blue shirt. His hair is messed up, with a bit of a curl to it. He’s the epitome of suit porn in all its glory.

“Hi.” I smile nervously from the door.

His eyes rise to meet mine. “Hi.” He gives me a slow, sexy smile as he steps toward me. He takes me into his arms and kisses me. “Hi.” He smiles again.

“Hi,” I breathe.

“You look lovely.” His hands drop to my behind as his dark eyes roam up and down my body. “Like . . . really lovely.”

“Blake, I’m wearing a tracksuit; you are very easily pleased.” I try to act casual.

Ha . . . bingo.

The outfit is working. I looked in the shops for three hours for a not-trying hot tracksuit.

Seems that I nailed it.

He kisses me softly, his lips lingering over mine. “I’ve been looking forward to seeing you all day.”

“How come?” I play dumb.

“Because then I get to eat pasta,” he lies.

“Oh, you’re here for the carbs?”

He gives me the best come-fuck-me look of all time. “I’m here for the meat.”

A shiver runs down my spine as the air crackles between us.

“So I’m meat now?” I smirk.

“Among other things.” His hungry eyes roam up and down my body as if imagining something.

I know exactly what he’s imagining, because I’m imagining it too.

He kisses me again, this time with suction, and my feet nearly lift from the floor. “Did you put your piercing back in?” I smile against his lips.

He unzips his suit pants and pulls his boxers down. “You better check.” He kisses me again as I slide my hand into his pants and feel his hard, engorged length.

Oh . . .

I slide down his shaft and feel the metal of the bar and then his tip. My hand slides through the pre-ejaculate that’s beading on his end.

Fuck.

My body begins to thump with arousal.

I cup his balls as our kiss deepens, and then I wrap my hand around him and stroke him hard.

He slams me up against the fridge, and the contents rattle.

Suddenly we’re desperate, kissing like animals. His hands are roaming all over my body as I jerk his cock with force. I glance over and catch sight of us in the mirror. He is still fully dressed in his suit as I ravage him.

It drives me further over the point of no return.

“Shower,” he moans into my mouth. “A shower.”

“The dinner . . . ,” I pant back.

“Can wait.” He takes my hand and pulls me up the stairs, and I would love to tell you that I am fully in control right now.

But I’m not.

My body is on a one-way ticket to Grand Central Station, and if the wind blows, I might just come.

With his eyes locked on mine, he grabs the bottom of my shirt and lifts it over my head, then puts his hands beneath the waistband of my pants and slides them down, and I step out of them. He throws them to the side, and I replace myself standing before him in nothing but my underwear. Blake is still fully dressed in his suit. He circles me as if inspecting his meal; his dark eyes burn my skin as they roam up and down. “I’ve imagined seeing you naked again,” he breathes.

The sound of my nervous heartbeat echoes through my ears.

“You have?” I whisper.

“Many times.” He puts his finger under my chin and lifts my face so that his dark eyes meet mine. “But nothing could prepare me for how awestruck I would be.”

I swallow the lump of fear in my throat. “I think you’ve got it the wrong way around,” I whisper. “It’s me who’s awestruck.”

He turns me away from him, and my heart hammers as he undoes my bra.

Every one of my senses is on fire.

His lips dust the side of my neck as his hands cup my breasts from behind. Not the gentle touch I was expecting. His hands knead my breasts aggressively, and it sends a shockwave through my system. Goose bumps scatter all over.

He sure knows his way around a woman’s body. He puts his lips to my ear. “How does that feel?”

My breath quivers in excitement. “Good,” I murmur.

His teeth graze my neck, and my eyes nearly roll back in my head. “How do you feel?” he whispers before biting me again.

I try to focus enough to form a coherent sentence.

“I’m nervous, I’m excited, I’m petrified . . . but in this moment, I am yours.”

His hands still, and I close my eyes. Why did I say that?

“You’ve always been mine,” he breathes into my ear. “From the first moment I met you, I knew we would end up here.” He kisses down my neck to my shoulder.

I frown in confusion as I stare at the wall. “I was married when you met me.”

I feel him smile against my skin. “Only so that he could bring you to me.”

Goose bumps scatter again, and I turn toward him. “You wanted me when I was married?”

“I’ve wanted you every day since I met you . . . maybe even before that.”

My eyes hold his.

“And if things didn’t go to plan and he didn’t mess it up . . .” He slides my panties down my legs. “I planned on stealing you from him.”

What?

“You would have taken me from him?” I frown.

“In a heartbeat.” He takes my face in his hands. “You were never really his.” He kisses me softly.

“What makes you say that?” I whisper against his lips.

“Because you were always promised to me.” Our kiss deepens. “You only married him so that you could replace me.” He takes my face in his two hands as we kiss, and my eyes flutter closed. “I’ve been waiting for you,” he murmurs against my lips.

I feel my heart free-fall from my chest.

Oh . . .

Why does that feel like the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard?

I screw up my face against his as emotion overwhelms me. Dear god, how am I so attached to him in just one week?

This is a disaster.

I planned on being strong and tough and the woman in control. A few pretty words, and he has me believing we are soulmates.

“Stop talking, and start fucking,” I snap as I act unaffected.

“Yes ma’am.” He chuckles and takes my hand. I catch sight of us in the mirror. He’s still fully dressed in his suit, and I’m completely naked.

Which is ironic . . . actually, it’s symbolic, because he’s completely in control while I’m just a lovesick fool.

We walk into my bedroom, and he kisses me once again. His tongue curls around mine with an intensity that I’ve never felt before. With every flutter of his tongue, I feel it between my legs.

“I need you,” I breathe as I begin to lose control.

“I know.” He pushes me back to the bed, lays me down, props me up on pillows, spreads my legs. Then, with his dark eyes fixed on mine, he slowly undoes his tie and slides it off.

I hold my breath as he unbuttons his shirt. His tanned skin and stomach ripples come into view, and I sit up onto my knees, wanting to touch him. “Come here.”

He walks over to the edge of the bed, and I bend and kiss his stomach as he takes the shirt off over his shoulders. My hands roam over his skin as he kicks off his shoes and peels his socks off.

Suddenly I’m frantic. I need him naked, and I need it now.

I pull down his suit pants, and his cock springs free. It’s hard, with thick veins coursing down the length of it. The piercing bar catches the light, and precome is dripping from the end. I’m shocked to silence.

How is this man so physically perfect?

I bend and kiss him there, and his hand goes tenderly to the back of my head. “Watch your teeth.”

“Huh?” I glance up at him.

“Don’t chip your teeth.” His eyes dance with darkness.

Forget the stupid teeth, I’m about to rip out my tonsils.

I take him into my mouth and slide his girthy length down my throat as I stroke him.

He pants as he begins to lose control.

I take him deeper and deeper, and it’s such a contradiction, new sensations all around. The metal among soft, velvety skin that covers a rock-hard erection.

His hands fist my hair, and he pushes himself deeper down my throat.

My body is dripping with excitement, and I smile around him. He likes it.

I love it.

“Enough,” he growls as he bends and throws me back onto the bed. He spreads my legs and holds me open with his fingers and bends to lick me there.

I nearly jump from the mattress.

“Fuck,” he moans into me. “You’re so fucking wet.” He sucks me deeper, and I nearly turn inside out. “You taste so good.” His eyes are shut, and he’s completely lost in the moment. His stubble burns me as he thrashes his head from side to side.

My feet lift into the air as I desperately battle to hold on to control, but I can’t.

I’m hovering somewhere between heaven and ecstasy; he slides three fingers into me, and without warning, my body contracts into a tidal wave of an orgasm.

I cry out, shudder, and convulse as he holds me down and sucks it out of me.

His hooded eyes half close as he inhales every inch of me.

Perspiration dusts my skin as my sanity leaves the building. I’ve never had an orgasm like that before.

Blake Grayson doesn’t go down on a woman for her pleasure; it’s for his.

Primal mating, taken to feed his needs.

I pant hard as I lie back, and he gets up and goes to his suit.

“No condom,” I say.

His eyes meet mine in question.

“I’m trusting you with my heart, so you’re trusting me not to get pregnant.”

We stare at each other for a beat, and I know that now is his time to freak out.

So be it . . . this is on him.

He can’t tell me that I was always meant to be his and have no consequence.

You talk the talk, now walk the walk.

“It’s okay, Blake,” I murmur. “You know you can trust me.”

His brow furrows, and then after a beat, he seems to come to an internal decision and crawls over me and spreads my legs with his knees.

This is it.

His lips take mine with reverence, and he kisses me softly as his cock nudges at my entrance. Having him so close like this is new and exciting. It feels so natural that I wonder how we haven’t done this a million times before.

I can feel the cool tips of the piercing through the lips of my sex, and I hold my breath at the foreign sensation.

Ohhhhhh . . .

He pushes forward, and I feel the stretch as my body tries to resist him.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “Let me in.” He pushes forward again, and a burn stings my senses.

“Ahh.” I wince.

“It’s okay,” he breathes again. “Relax, baby.” He pushes forward with force, and I feel the tip of the piercing as it slides all the way home.

Deep inside of me.

“Oh,” I moan. He’s big. The girth of his cock is wide and leaves no room for doubt. My body ripples around him as she tries to deal with his size.

I frown as I look up at the ceiling over his shoulder. Is he really this big, or am I just really inexperienced right now?

He surges forward again, and the burn stings hard. He’s here, and he’s taking over my body, whether I like it or not.

I don’t like it; I love it.

“Ahhh,” I whimper.

“That’s it.” He smiles into my neck. “Let me hear you.” He pumps me hard and knocks the air out of my lungs. “I want to hear you fucking moan.”

My eyes roll back in my head, and just like he requested, my body lets out a deep, guttural moan. Once again, I feel him smile into my neck, and I replace myself smiling too.

The man’s a deviant.

He surges in deep, and I feel his piercing as it slides all the way in and drags all the way out. It’s the weirdest sensation. It adds a whole new layer to the experience, or maybe it’s just because it’s Blake, and he’s . . . well, from what I can see, he’s the master of fucking.

The Fuck Master 100.

“I should make a model of your cock, complete with the piercing, and call it the Fuck Master 100 vibrator,” I whisper up at him.

He breaks into a breathtaking smile as he pumps me. “This cock’s just for you.”

“I’m serious. We would make bank with this dick.”

“If you can still talk, I’m not doing it right,” he whispers darkly as he brings my legs up to around his chest. “How’s this.” He pumps me hard, and the bed creaks as it nearly breaks. He knocks every single piece of air out of my lungs, the sanity from my brain. “Try talking now.”

I stare up at him in awe. My mouth hangs open in shock at the all-consuming sensation.

He’s big and deep. His strong hands hold my legs back with force . . . and fucking hell, is this what sex is supposed to be like?

I feel insignificant to his power. This isn’t an even game. I’m like a weak little petal being used for his pleasure. He’s moving me how he wants me, taking me deep and uninhibited.

It’s so hot that I can’t stand it.

We get into a rhythm; my feet are up around his ears, and all I can feel is that damn piercing tickling my G-spot. Showing me exactly what it’s there for. It’s so . . .

Good lord, dick piercings should be mandatory for all men.

I’m addicted.

“I . . .” My eyes flutter closed. “I can’t . . . ohhhh,” I moan.

“Hold it,” he demands. “We haven’t even fucking started.”

His thick cock hits the right spot again and again, and I can’t . . . “Ahhh.” My toes curl, and I cry out as an orgasm tears through me. He fucks me through it with abandon.

Hard and thick.

The sound of our skin slapping together echoes around the room and . . . fuck.

Perspiration dusts my skin as he uses me.

His body is taking what it needs from mine, and I’ve never done this before.

This isn’t sex.

This is an experience that every woman should have at least once in her life.

“Ohhh,” he moans as his grip on my ankles gets harder, his pumps deeper, rougher. “That’s it,” he whispers. “Milk me,” he whispers. “Give it to me.”

I clench as hard as I can, and his eyes roll back in his head. He surges forward and holds himself deep. I feel the telling jerk of his cock as he comes deep inside my body.

The husky moan that leaves his body is a heavenly sound, and I smile up at the ceiling as angels sing in the distance.

I want to bottle this feeling, put a bookmark in time to come back to.

He falls down onto me, panting hard into the crook of my neck, and I hold him close.

We’re both struggling for air, and intimacy is swimming between us.

I get a lump in my throat as I cling to him like my life depends on it.

I don’t know what that was . . . but I’m officially ruined.

Blake

I lie in the darkness and stare at the sleeping woman beside me.

Reeling from the events of tonight.

A vision runs through my mind of the two of us rolling around in the sheets.

The sound of her moans, the feeling in me . . . I’ve never . . . I swallow the lump in my throat as I try to process what the hell is going on here.

I knew we’d be good together mentally, but physically—I had no idea the level of connection we would reach. I mean, I’d heard people talk about it . . . but I always thought it was impossible.

Implausible, even utterly ridiculous.

And yet I lie here completely confused, because for the first time in my life, I’m sure.

Not just sure, I’m sold. I’m positive. This is a done deal . . . and as terrifying as this is, there’s not a single doubt in my mind.

Rebecca’s the one.