Their Secret Summer Family (The Bravos 0f Valentine Bay Book 7) Page 9

  “Beautiful,” he muttered thickly. “Perfect.” He grabbed the globes of her bottom and pulled her up to him, hard and tight, so she could feel how much he was enjoying this. His big fingers digging into her backside, he licked and bit his way over her jaw and down the side of her throat. “This, too.” He had the hem of her top in his hands and was already pulling it up. “It has to go.” His voice rumbled against her collarbone.

  She simply lifted her arms and he took it away, leaving her standing in front of him in only her red lace bra and two pink hair elastics, one at the end of each braid. When she reached up to pull off one of the elastics, he caught her hand.

  “Leave the braids. I like them.” His eyes promised things—lovely, sexy things. She sighed and dropped her hand.

  He was gazing at her red bra now. “Pretty.” Lifting a finger, he traced the lace of one cup, following it across the top slope of her breast, then moving on to the other one, drawing a sweet cascade of goose bumps along her skin, making her nipples go hard and tight. “Let me see...” He tugged on the lace, pulling it down, using his other hand to lift her breast up and push the lace below it. He did the same with the other cup, creating quite the display.

  “You know, I’m all but naked with my boobs sticking out,” she remarked, trying her best not to sound as breathless and needy as she felt. “And you’re still wearing all your clothes.”

  “No complaining.” He actually had the nerve to shake a finger at her. “I’m busy here.” He bent close then and took her nipple in his mouth. She tried not to groan at the stab of sheer pleasure as his teeth closed around the hardened nub and he started to suck.

  “You are so bad,” she whispered, gathering him even closer, spearing her fingers in his thick, wavy hair, breathing in the heat and the dizzying scent of him. “Just a bad, bad man.”

  He kissed the tight flesh over her breastbone as he moved on to the other nipple, biting a little as he drew on it. It felt so good, painful in the most delicious way. And his hands weren’t idle. They played her below. She could feel his erection, full and hard, against her hip.

  When he lifted his head and looked in her eyes again, he said, “Get on the bed.”

  She might have talked back to him, just to let him know he wasn’t the boss of her. But then again, what was there to argue about, really? Getting prone on the bed seemed like an excellent idea to her. She climbed up and stretched out with her head on the pillows. “Now what, oh lord and master?”

  He watched her, his eyes dark fire, burning her, searing right down to the core of her, as he emptied his pockets, setting three condoms, his keys and his phone on the nightstand. Then he undressed, turning first to sit on the edge of the mattress and get rid of his boots and socks, then rising to peel everything else away.

  She got to watch. It took him only a minute to strip himself bare, but it was a terrific minute. She drank in the sight of his broad, muscled shoulders and big arms, his deep chest and flat belly with its perfect trail of silky black hair leading down to the ready evidence that he really, really liked her. Every bit of him was just right. Just as she remembered from that first night.

  Even drunk as she’d been, she did remember. All of it. The sheer glory of it.

  And it was even better now, with her senses completely awake and attuned to him. Whatever happened in the morning, she would have tonight.

  He came down to her.

  And then he kissed her.

  Time kind of flew away. There were only his strong arms around her, his mouth claiming hers in a long, thorough kiss before he moved down her body, settled between her thighs and guided her legs up over his shoulders.

  “The taste of you...” He spoke the words against her core, rough and low and hungry. “I remember, Gracie. I remember everything. I won’t ever, ever forget...”

  “Good,” she replied. “So, so very good...” And it was. The best. Even better than the time before. “Yes. Oh, absolutely. Beyond the faintest shadow of a doubt... Yes!” She speared her fingers into his hair, braced her heels on his hard shoulders and opened her legs even wider. Lifting her hips eagerly, she pressed her eager body up into his wonderful kiss.

  She could lie there forever, moaning and writhing, with his mouth making magic, his fingers driving her crazy, curling inside her, finding that perfect spot that sent her straight to the moon.

  How did he do it? How did he know just how to touch her, how to kiss her, how to drive her happily out of her mind? It really was not fair that he was so good at this. Not fair in the least.

  And oh, please, if only he might never, ever stop...

  Too quickly, she was flying over the moon and straight to the stars. She pulled on his hair and yanked him harder against her as she moaned out her climax and cried his name.

  When she finally went lax, he prowled up her body, dropping a chain of kisses along the way, finally taking her mouth, slow and so sweet. She laughed against his lips, pressing her hands to his cheeks to rub her own wetness away.

  “You’re much too good at that,” she scolded.

  “I live to serve.” He caught her lower lip between his teeth and tugged, stretching it deliciously before letting it pop free.

  With a snort of affectionate derision, she shoved at his shoulders. She couldn’t wait to give him a big dose of his own medicine.

  But he was already reaching toward the nightstand, grabbing a condom.

  “Give me that.” She snatched it from him.

  And for once, he let her have her way. She took it out of the wrapper, pushed him over onto his back and straddled him.

  “Who’s bossy now?” That sinful mouth of his curved in a lazy smile and his gaze roamed over her, possessive and so hot. He reached up and cupped her breasts, which were still in their cradle of lace. Using his thumbs, he idly flicked at her nipples. “You wreck me, Gracie. You blow me away.”

  She sighed in sheer pleasure, at the feel of his hands on her flesh and also at the rough, needful sound of his voice. For a moment, she just sat there on top of him, staring into his eyes, wishing...

  But no.

  There was now, tonight, and it was just beautiful. But he showed zero inclination to get over his conviction that he wasn’t cut out for a lasting relationship.

  No need to go wanting something she would never have.

  Better to fully enjoy what was offered and let the future take care of itself. Really, she’d always been good at both.

  Those big hands slid around to her back and he unclasped her bra. One at a time, he guided the straps down her arms. Still holding the unused condom, she stretched out her arms so he could take the bra away. “There,” he said, his hands back beneath her breasts again and then trailing down her torso. Gently, he grasped her hips. “Well?”

  “I’m on it.” She rolled the condom down over his thick, hard length, easing it all the way to the base, taking care not to tear it as she worked. Once she had it in place, she lifted up to her knees and guided him to her. Slowly, she sank down on him, letting her head fall back. A luxurious groan escaped her as he filled her.

  He groaned, too.

  She looked down into those ebony eyes and they shared a smile. Then he reached up and took hold of both of her braids and slowly pulled her down until her lips met his.

  He took her face between his hands. “You are spectacular. I never want to let you go.”

  Then don’t, she thought. But all she said was, “Feels so good...”

  She began to move, lifting and lowering, rolling against him, loving the feel of him, so thick and hot, deep and then deeper, so perfect. Just right.

  He clasped her hips again, pulling her down tight, then letting her rise—only to drag her close once again.

  She moaned in delighted surprise when he flipped her over and took the top position. Kneeling up, his hands still holding her hips, he pulled her lowe
r body with him and guided her legs over his shoulders. By then, she was flying.

  “So close,” she whispered. “I’m almost...” A soft cry of pleasure escaped her.

  “Now,” he commanded as he surged deep within her.

  And that did it. Her climax opened her up, spilling a shimmer of purest sensation. Starting at the core of her, the pleasure radiated outward in glorious waves. As she reached the peak, she felt him begin to pulse deep within her.

  “Going,” he groaned at her.

  “Gone,” she moaned back.

  * * *

  She woke to someone whining.

  Carefully opening one eye, she found it was daylight and she was nose to nose with Owen, breathing in his doggy breath. “You need a mint,” she grumbled.

  A sleepy voice behind her said, “He wants to go out.” Dante lifted his arm from its spot in the curve of her waist and tugged on one of her braids. She turned her head back to him and he kissed her, a sweet, chaste brush of his lips across hers.

  Then he was rolling away from her, getting out on the other side of the bed. “I’ll take him.”

  She braced up an elbow and watched Dante pull on his jeans. He zipped up and then dropped back to the mattress to put on his socks and lace up his Timberlands. When he stood again, he raked his hands back through his hair to kind of minimize the bedhead. Actually, he looked downright delicious, all rumpled and manly, with those muscles everywhere.

  And she had no doubt at all that her braids were a mess, her hair sticking out every which way, with last night’s mascara smeared where it shouldn’t be.

  “Be right back,” he promised.

  She realized she’d kind of been expecting him to start making excuses, acting all apologetic, saying he had to get going. But no. He was coming back. That pleased her no end. She couldn’t stop herself from beaming him a huge, happy smile. “I’ll make the coffee.”

  “Deal.” Pulling open the door, he clicked his tongue. “Owen. Come.” The dog went out and Dante followed.

  As soon as he was gone, she jumped up and ran to the bathroom, where she rinsed away her raccoon eyes, combed her hair and brushed her teeth.

  She had her clothes back on and was spooning grounds into the coffee maker when Dante and Owen returned. The dog went to his water bowl.

  Dante came up behind her, wrapped his arms around her and kissed her neck. It felt really good. Also, domestic. Like they were a real couple.

  Down, girl, she ordered her romantic heart. It’s a kiss on the neck, not a promise of forever.

  Not that she would want forever anyway. She had a lot to do in her life and she didn’t need some man to make it all worthwhile.

  However, the right man would be nice. One of these days. When the stars finally aligned.

  Dante bit her earlobe. It felt so good. “You took out the braids. I really liked those braids.”

  She laughed, pushed the button to start the brew cycle, and slithered around to face him. “You like to pull on them.”

  He put up both hands. “Shoot me. I like to pull on them a lot.”

  “Be nice to me. You might see those braids again.”

  “Whatever it takes.” His eyes had that smoldering look she very much enjoyed.

  Did that mean last night was more than a one-time thing? She would really like that. Maybe too much. “You want some eggs?”

  “I do. Got bacon?” He arched a thick, dark eyebrow at her.

  “Yes, I have bacon.” Owen sat at their feet staring up at them hopefully. “Kibble’s in the bottom right cupboard if you want to pour him some.”

  Dante waited until after they’d eaten to bring up the elephant in the room. He poured them both more coffee first.

  When he sat back down, he took a slow sip and said, “I’m through lying to myself about you and me, Gracie. I want more. Of you. Of this.”

  She stared across the battered old table at him. More of Dante. The prospect excited her. And scared her, too. What if she came to care too much? What if she already did? Cautiously, she asked, “So...what are you thinking?”

  He looked down at the table, then dragged his gaze back up to meet hers. “Could it be just between us? Just you and me? I don’t want the families to know. We would never hear the end of it. And I have no idea how Connor might react.”

  “I do not get what Connor has to say about it.”

  “We have history, me and Connor. You know that.”

  “Come on, it’s none of Connor’s business what you and I do in our own private lives.”

  “Yeah, well. Connor might think otherwise.”

  She put up both hands. “Fine. Whatever. The families won’t know. Can we move on?”

  He looked as relieved as she felt. “Absolutely.”

  “So you’re saying a secret fling?” And actually, given that what they had wasn’t really going anywhere, keeping it just between the two of them wasn’t such a bad idea.

  “I really like you, Gracie. And I want you. So damn much. I’m through pretending I can keep my hands off you. I want to be with you, but I’m still the same guy and I’m not going to change.”

  She dropped her head back and groaned at the ceiling. “Just answer the question.”

  “Yeah. A secret fling.”

  “What about seeing other people?”

  That had him leaning in again, his face turned hard and dark. “No way. Just you and me. For as long as it lasts. No one else. For either of us.”

  “Not real big on sharing, huh?”

  He looked almost hurt. “You are?”

  “No.” She gave him a slow grin. “But I sure do like yanking your chain.”

  He studied her for several endless seconds. “Okay, then. You and me. Nobody else and nobody knows.”

  “Until one of us calls a halt?”

  “Yeah.”

  She thought of his daughters. “As long as the girls are here, we’re not going to have a lot of chances to be together.”

  He reached across the table, as though to take her hand. But then he pulled back without touching her. He picked up his cup and drank. “Not exactly an irresistible offer, is it? Just tell me to shove it.”

  She walked her fingers to the middle of the table, turned her hand over and waited, palm up.

  It took him a minute, but he put his mug down and covered her hand with his. It felt wonderful. Right. To have his hand wrapped around hers.

  She said, “So then, what with keeping it secret and the girls living with you, we won’t be spending all that many nights together. It’s my considered opinion that we need to make the most of every moment we get.”

  All of a sudden, his dark eyes seemed to shine with the brightest light. Still holding her hand, he got up. She rose at the same time. It took only a tug on her hand and she was in his arms.

  He wrapped her up tight and kissed her slow and deep. When he lifted his head, he asked in a rough whisper, “Did you just say yes?”

  “Yes, Dante. Yes.”

  Chapter Seven

  Dante was more than happy to seek out opportunities to be alone with Gracie.

  He rarely drove home for lunch. But the next day, Monday, he took a flyer on the off chance that Gracie might be there.

  She was. He spotted her little SUV parked beside the cabin and drove the cruiser on back there. Wearing those dinky shorts he so greatly admired and a T-shirt with History Buff printed on it beneath a flexing bodybuilder, she was waiting in the open doorway for him when he sprinted up the pebbled walkway.

  She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck as he scooped her high against his VBPD blues. “I do believe I’m about to experience my first luncher,” she said.

  “Nooner,” he corrected, nuzzling her neck.

  “Oh, Officer.” She heaved an over-the-top sigh. “Whatever you call it, I need
it. Now...”

  And he got to spend forty-five minutes in the cabin with Gracie, naked. Those minutes raced by. He relished every one of them.

  Monday night, after the girls were in bed, he texted her and she came over. They had a beer on the deck and compared daytime schedules. Her hours at the bar changed every week and he sometimes got stuck at the station house or out working a case and had to skip lunch. They agreed it would be easier if he just called or texted when he could get away in the daytime. That way he wouldn’t waste his time driving home if she couldn’t meet him there.

  When she got up to go, he grabbed her hand and pulled her down onto his lap. “Don’t leave. Not yet.” He kissed her.

  Eventually, he had to let her mouth go. She said, “I have to be at work at...”

  He kissed her again before she could finish. “There isn’t enough time for us.”

  She nipped at his earlobe. “It’s a secret fling. Deal with it.” Her voice was light and teasing, while he felt all dark and twisted inside, full of needs he really didn’t want to address.

  He wanted her. Constantly.

  And he was going to have to lighten up and count his damn blessings. At least now, for as long as it lasted, he could have her whenever their schedules lined up.

  It just wasn’t often enough. Not by a long shot.

  “Dante...” She said his name in a sweet little singsong. And then she kissed the side of his throat. “I really do have to go.” He stole one more kiss and somehow kept himself from grabbing for her when she rose from his lap, leaving his arms empty and his pants too tight. “Tomorrow,” she reminded him. “I’m picking the girls up from day camp.”

  “Right. The all-important costumes for the Medieval Faire.”

  “Yep. I’ll have them home earlier this time.”

  “Stay for dinner? I’ll have the food ready when you get here.”

  “Can’t. I’ve got a hot date.” She laughed, the sound musical. Teasing. “You should see your face.”

  “We have rules,” he said darkly. “You. Me. No one else.”

  She bent down to him, nuzzled his cheek and whispered, “It’s so much fun to mess with you.” Somehow, he kept from grabbing her and yanking her back down across his knees. She pulled away just enough to capture his gaze. “I’m meeting Erin and Carrie at Beach Street Brews.”