Page 35 of Never Always
“What I thought,” he mumbles, pressing into me gently. His gaze finds mine and his blue eyes are hooded, and his lips are separated. “Tight ass in the streets and a tight fuck in the sheets.” His words are a rumble and a conspiratorial smile plays across his lips.
I chuckle despite holding all my muscles still in anticipation. “Quiet. Don’t ruin this for me.” My tone is mocking, but even I can’t disguise the fact I’m powerless to resist. It’s lust. It’s infiltrating every corner of my mind and body. I’d do anything he asked in this moment, even withstand brutal teasing if it meant he was pleasuring me.
“Yes, ma’am.”
I grab his broad, hard shoulders and he sinks into me all the way. The warmness floods and the pain is fleeting as he settles into a rhythm, his large body moving with more grace than I ever thought possible. The thrusts are gentle and rough. Grange usually has a stoic face, but as he’s looking down at me, his blue eyes searing into mine, there’s everything but stoicism. There’s pure pleasure, sure, but there’s a qualitative emotion that streaks out like it’s been buried for a thousand years. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it looks like he’s falling.
I have to stop thinking about everything happening between us because another orgasm is approaching and now that he’s inside me and surrounding me from every angle, the explosion feels ethereal—a slow slaking I didn’t even know was possible. My body trembles as my needs unfold, riding the passion of the waves gripping him. I let my fingers trail his naked body, all the places I haven’t touched yet as I come down from the Corrick Granger high. His skin is slick now, and the scent of his soap is magnified. I kiss his neck, his jaw, trailing my mouth to the forbidden place. Grange tucks his face into my neck and juts his hips in once more, a forceful gesture as he comes. His groan sounds like relief, like rapture, like he came just in the nick of time.
He teases in and out of me a few more times, giving me that fullness and connection and then taking it away. Grange holds the base of the condom as he pulls out of me and leans back on his knees. His massive chest puffs out and in as he catches his breath. Everything about him screams possessive. His narrowed eyes boldly holding mine, the approving way he scans me, owning me with a look. Hands perched on his perfectly formed hips reach out to grab both of my knees. He licks his lips and his expression stills. “You are hotter than two rats fucking in a wool sock.”
My laugh ripples through the air separating us. “That’s your closing line? Really? Rats?”
His returning laugh is rich. “It’s hard, Fire. I’ve never been more attracted to a person in my entire life. You’re electricity. You… are…” He pauses, gaze magnetic, and says, “Quite possibly the only person who will ever affect me so severely. I mean that in the nicest way possible.”
Do I tell him that my dreams from this moment forward will be of him crushing me with his body and aching for his touch? That has to be too much too soon. Even now, when I should be recovering, my pulse skitters with the knowledge that this man wants me. That I’m special to him. “What if I said you are the only person who will affect me like this?” Looking down, I see my creamy skin stained pink from rubbing against his.
His jaw works and his nostrils flare. “You don’t have much to compare me to though, so it means a little less.”
“If I’d slept with the entire Team, would that qualify me to have my own opinion on my feelings?” Sitting up, I put my hands on top of his. “You can trust me. I’m good for it.” My words seem to amuse him.
“If you’d slept with my Team, I’d have to kill every one of them and I’d never see you again aside from behind bars, so don’t try that one, okay? I like touching you.”
I go up on my knees in front of him. Chest to chest, forehead pressed to his. His fingers roll my nipples and then slide down between my legs. “Now that we’ve got the first out of the way, I need to fuck you dirty. At least twice.”
My reply dies in my throat at the same time his finger slides home. Leaning my head against his chest, I pull off the used condom, tie it in a knot, and toss it to the floor. I want my hands on his bare flesh. When he pulls us back down onto the bed, I take him in my mouth, tasting the latex, attaching a new permanent memory to the scent. Grange. Fucking me. Mind numbing pleasure. His body owning me. His words praising me. My lips craving his with a desperation I’ve never tasted.
Falling in love with him.
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It was actually three more times, not two, after the first before we both petered out and fell asleep in sex stained sheets, floating somewhere in between satisfaction and blackout tired. Tangled in him, I’d never felt more certain of anything before. As a girl, I knew what I wanted to be when I grew up since a chapter in my second-grade textbook. Knew the person who I was destined to be from the first moment of self-realization as a tween. The fact that one person can shake everything I thought I knew about myself is scary.
I went home when Grange left to go to meet Rexy at the gym early this morning. He offered to cancel, but I didn’t want him breaking plans with his best friend. Isn’t that what possessive girlfriends do? There is now a silent vow to be the best at this, at loving Grange, regardless of what it costs. I’m committed.
Maeve called a bit ago and wanted to meet for lunch. I agreed, but there was a nagging part of me who wished I could decline because I had plans with Grange. Working on my recent project was useless when I could still feel Grange inside me, my core sore from his punishing, beautiful cock. I daydreamed for a while instead, and then reluctantly showered him off of my body and dressed in a casual flannel and jeans for our late lunch plans. I’m not late, but I’ll be just on time when there’s a knock at my door. Not a doorbell ring, which is expected.
When I look through the peephole, all I see is white flowers.
I open the door and a man, or I can only assume it’s a man, because he’s wearing a full face of white clown makeup, complete with red lips, a red nose, and blue diamond paint on his eyes, sings merrily, “Tennyson Kline?”
I’m afraid to answer, not sure what to say to the plain-clothed clown carrying a funeral arrangement so I merely nod, clutching my bag with my wallet in it tight against my side.
“My name is Knickknack Curly Choco the Second and this is a singing floral telegram from,” he announces, then pauses to look down at notes, presumably, and goes on, “From Oscar Rex.”
“Rexy?” I say, confused, gaze probing the heart shape memorial of flowers. There are white carnations, white roses, and several other types of green sprigs, on the arrangement that has three legs so it can stand up on its own. “What in the hell?” I cover my mouth when the unladylike words escape. “I’m sorry,” I profess to the befuddled floral employee. “I’m surprised is all.” And a million other things I can’t tell this stranger.
He shakes off my confusion, hands me the death heart, and blows into a harmonica as he looks at an index card. Then, Knickknack Curly Coco the Second sings. “These heart-shaped flowers are because you have powers. You’ve done what no one else can, you’ve tamed the felon man. He won’t stop talking about you, and I guess it’s how you blew. Or something like that, maybe you spat? My words are not eloquent, but this sentiment is relevant. It celebrates the death of an asshole, and the birth of new soul. You gave him a chance and he gave you romance. Grange is in love, and this is in mourning of. All of my thanks, Rexy.”
Amusement flickers in the Knickknack’s eyes, and I can tell he’s waiting for my response to this insane song. Tipping my head back, I roar with laughter and the clown joins in. “Singing telegrams aren’t something we offer, but he paid triple the price and said if I wore the makeup he’d be a repeat customer for the rest of his life. How did I do?”
I choke on a breath. “You did well. I can assure you that you delivered the material you were given with zest and zeal. Let me apologize on behalf of my friends. They are offensive, but they mean well. I appreciate this.” I bow my head. “Thank you so very much.” Even though I’m horrified he subjected a stranger to this. Clutching my flowers, I retreat back into my condo, trying to catch my breath. From the surprise. From the laughter. From the fact that Grange is in love with me.
I let out a high-pitched squeal and jump up and down at least fifteen times. “Okay, Tennyson. Pull yourself together,” I say in between gasps. I giggle again as I set the sweet smelling flowers down in front of my fireplace. It seems a proper spot for such a bouquet. Definitely not on a table.
The dumb smile on my face will be there all day. A singing telegram with a clown? Who are these people? I replay Rexy’s stupid song in my mind all the way to Cat’s Diner, a short walk from my condo, and by the time I’m there, I’m worried that Grange told Rexy everything about last night. Do guys do that?
Maeve is waiting with a huge smile at a booth when I walk in. She waves at me, her friendly smile easing my nerves. When I sit down, I clasp my hands in front of my body.
