Dirty Trick (15 page)

“So what are we watching?”

She passed him the bowl of popcorn, and he snagged a few kernels before picking up the remote.

“Zombies in London.”

He pressed the
SELECT
button, and the credits rolled. The room was quiet for a long moment before the music started, and he found himself stiffening—in more ways than one. How could he have not realized this exact situation, albeit in a public theater, had led to the most erotic sexual experience of his life just the night before?

Could be he wasn’t the only one. When the opening score started, she tensed, the feet under his butt curling a little. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

They settled in and soon enough, the initial tension faded with their enjoyment of the movie. That was the thing with Grace. It wasn’t the sex, although the sex had wrecked him. And even if it
was
just that, he’d have been tempted to try and lock that situation up for a lifetime. The thing was, she was also fun to be around. He liked her company as much as her body.

A particularly gruesome zombie lunged forward to nosh on some brains, and Grace re-enforced his assessment when she squealed, “Ugh, eww…awesome.”

She leaned forward and dug some popcorn out of the bowl on his lap, nudging it against his cock. The big guy pepped up instantly, alert and ready to see what was what. He shifted and sent “down boy” vibes to his lower half. He’d finally gotten things under control again when lo and behold, and unexpected love scene cropped up. Two of the last nine uninfected humans on the planet had decided that it was their job to re-populate the earth one bang at a time and started going at it like animals. He feigned disinterest and reached for his beer to take a swallow, but when things got all Cinemax on screen, it was hard to act impartial. The feet under his bottom were flexing and relaxing, and when he risked a glance at Grace, her lips were parted and her breath was short.

Was it his imagination, or had she shot him a glance under her lashes? He sat frozen with indecision. What if he made his move now and she freaked out on him? Or what if he didn’t and blew his best window of opportunity? This was what he’d been waiting for almost since the day they’d met and what he’d been planning for since the Halloween party.

Time to roll the dice. He straightened and set the popcorn onto the table. When he reclined against the cushions, he laid a gentle hand on her calf and gave it an almost imperceptible squeeze.

…

Grace kept her eyes glues to the screen. Had she made that happen with her mind? The intimate but subtle touch? She’d been sitting there willing it so hard that her spleen ached, so that seemed like real a possibility. But now what? Like, was that even a move or was Trick just getting comfy?

She shifted her head as little as possible until she could get a surreptitious look at him. If it had been on purpose, he wasn’t giving it away. His face was like stone, and he seemed intent on the action taking place on the screen. She couldn’t blame him. That chick was super flexible, and things were about to culminate, if her moaning was any indicator. She was a noisy one, but after Grace’s own recent activities, she didn’t blame her one bit. It had been easy to keep things quiet with Victor. Now that she’d had a taste of the good stuff, she was pretty sure she’d never settle for silent again.

“Oh, God, yes. Right there,” the bad actress mewled.

And even at that, the acting was good enough to send Grace’s heart pounding, and she couldn’t help but look at Trick.

Old fears came back, weaving their nefarious magic. There were reasons she’d sidelined him from the get go. He could so easily destroy what was left of her heart. Wasn’t that what she’d thought? So why did that reasoning seem so flawed now? Maybe it was the recent sexual revelation. Or maybe it was the way his hands felt on her calf. Familiar. Knowing. Tender. Was she strong enough to handle what came next if she and Trick slept together? Or had she let her libido convince her that a little pleasure wouldn’t ruin an awesome friendship?

She could almost hear her grandmother in her ear, urging her with the wicked cackle.
“Don’t be a wuss, girlie. The time to act is now while you’ve still got the goods to convince him. Once everything starts drooping, the opportunities don’t come near as often.”

True that, Gram. Time to be bold. She wrestled her gaze away from his mouth and met his eyes. “Trick?” she whispered. It came out like a wordless croak so she tried again. “Trick.”

He didn’t turn his head when he answered. “Yes?”

“What are you doing?” She stared hard at his profile in the dim light hoping to read lips since she was fairly certain she wouldn’t be able to hear him over the thundering of her heart.

But his response came through loud and clear.

“That depends, Gracie. What is it that you want me to be doing?”

The blood rushed to her ears, and she pursed her lips together hard. He couldn’t be messing with her. That wouldn’t be something Trick would think to do. Not like this, at any rate. So was this a pass? And if so, why was it the most ambiguous pass ever? She sat for another long moment, stumped as to how to respond.

“Gracie?” This time, in spite of the cacophony going on inside her, his low, silky baritone drifted over her like a touch.

His tone and the accompanying squeeze of his fingers on her calf simplified things some. He wouldn’t run out of the house in shock if she told him what had been on the tip of her tongue—that she wanted him. This was him making a move, and tentative though it had been at first, it was getting clearer by the second.

The moaning on screen got louder and the sound of a headboard slamming against the wall rang through the room. Some inane part of her wanted to tell the lovers on screen to keep it down in case the zombies heard, but her mouth felt glued shut. She closed her eyes for a second and wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. Trick sucked in a breath. He was looking at her now. She could feel it. She lifted her gaze to meet his and for a second, she was lost. The longing there was twice as stunning as his touch, and she couldn’t form a coherent thought. She was irrevocably, completely undone.

“Yes?” she responded when she could force the word from her throat.

“I need to tell you something.” His hand moved higher, tracing a pattern on her knee and her heart slammed hard against her ribs.

“So tell me.” But she didn’t wait for him to answer. Instead, she let her instincts guide her and shoved the throw aside. On all fours, she crawled toward him. Words didn’t matter anymore because she wasn’t stopping no matter what he said. She covered his mouth with hers on a whimper, the elation at finally kissing him making her dizzy with excitement. Odd how she’d had more sex in the past week than she’d had in the past two years, and she’d never been more turned on. She knew why. She just hadn’t been able to admit it to herself until now.

She loved him. She’d always loved him. As a best friend, for sure, but even then, it had been different than what she had with Serena. There had always been an edgy tension right under the surface that she’d made excuses for and struggled to ignore. She’d never felt that way before. Not around Vic, not around Seth or any of the guys she’d dated.
Except Catman,
she reminded herself. But even then, when she thought of him, there was nothing but fondness. She never would’ve gotten the courage to try with Trick at all if not for those confidence boosting and oh-so-freeing nights with him. But as good as it had been, something was missing. The joy and comfort of being around someone who knew her favorite movie, and how she liked her coffee. Who she could trust to have her back and be there when she needed him. And here he was.

Trick.

“I need you to know, no matter what happens after tonight, how much I care about you, Gracie.”

The hair on the back of her neck stood up, and she froze. Was this his way of setting her up for a fall? To warn her that he might not be able to go the distance with her? Maybe. But as she looked at the sincerity in his face, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that she believed him and that she finally said out loud what she should have known more than a year ago. She’d leave the rest to fate.

“Me, too.”

His scent was so familiar, she wanted to burrow closer and breathe him in until he was all she could smell. But she was impatient. She thrust her hands under his shirt, and pressed her palms to his heated skin.

“God, you feel so good,” she murmured. His body was all lean muscle and golden skin, and she couldn’t get enough of it.

He scooped her into his arms and carried her up the stairs, kicking the door closed behind him on a sulky-faced pair of dogs. “Sorry guys, we’re doing this for your own good. What’s about to go down here could scar you for life.”

She managed to choke out a laugh as he crossed the gleaming hardwood floors and set her on the bed.

“I’ve thought of this moment, with you looking up at me exactly like that, so many times, I can’t even count them.” His words were so softly spoken that she strained to hear him, but when she did, they settled in close to her heart. He’d wanted her. Judging by his words, he’d wanted her long before now. Maybe from the beginning? Had they wasted all this time because she was afraid of being betrayed again? Well, she wasn’t afraid anymore.

Before she could respond, he swooped down over her, angling her back against the pillows, and kissed the breath out of her. Odd, she’d been so used to Vic’s terrible technique that she hadn’t realized that most guys were good kissers. Catman had been lovely, and Trick put the awe in awesome. All the passion of Catman with the added, tender, and unquantifiable bonus of love driving them.

Trick’s long body stretched over hers, pressing her farther into the soft mattress. His chest smashed against her breasts, his hips tucked into hers, creating glorious pressure. He tucked his knee between her thighs, and she spread them wide to accommodate him.

He lifted his head and gave her the most intense stare, it sent her heart knocking. It was wholly unnerving, and she scrambled to dial the tension back some. “Bummer. I was hoping I’d finally get to hear you say ‘spread ‘em’ like you do at work.”

He held her gaze and a slow grin spread over his face. “In that case, maybe I should get my cuffs?”

Grace shook her head furiously, in spite of the blast of white hot heat that hit her right in the pelvis at the thought. This was enough for now…almost too much. They could save the wilder play for later.

God, she hoped there was a later.

She shoved back her fear and gave him a smile of her own. “Just me and you tonight, officer.” She gripped his shirt and dragged his mouth back to hers, pouring every ounce of need into their kiss.

His strong hands slipped into her hair, anchoring her to him, taking control. The thick ridge tucked against her hip grew harder, and he ground himself closer. She groaned against his mouth, and his fingers tightened.

“Sit up,” he gasped as he pulled away. He shifted back to sit on the bed as she propped herself against the headboard. Leaning in, he grasped the frayed hem of her t-shirt and tugged it over her head.

The soft cotton covered her ears, but she thought she heard him mutter a prayer. When the cool air hit her bare nipples, they pebbled tighter, and she resisted the urge to cover herself.

“You should throw away all your bras,” he murmured, reaching out a hand to trace the slope of one breast. “Because binding these is a fucking crime.”

His words slid over her like warm honey, and the last of her nerves disappeared.
You’re sexy. You’re good in bed. He thinks you’re beautiful. And you deserve this.

Letting instinct take over, she cupped his warm hand tightly in hers until it covered her breast. She groaned when he ran his thumb over the stiff tip.

“Nice. So responsive,” he whispered. “I can’t wait to put my mouth on you.”

She couldn’t either, and was about to request that he get on that, when he pulled away to curl his fingers around the waist of her pants. Without hesitation, she lifted her bottom so he could slide them off. He tossed them to the side and for a long moment just stared down at her, his hot eyes skimming from her head to her toes and back again.

“Perfect.”

“I’m glad you think so, but I’m at a distinct disadvantage here.” He seemed to hesitate, and she eyed him hard. “You’re not chickening out, are you?”

“Oh, hell no,” he said, his flat, sure tone calming her sudden resurgence of nerves. “I’ll strip, but first I want you to lay on your stomach. I’ve had wet dreams about that ass, and I just need to see it in the flesh.”

She gathered up her courage and slunk down on the bed to roll onto her tummy.

…

“Holy mother of god, you’re sexy.”

And damn, was she. But even though he hadn’t been lying when he’d told her he wanted to see her bare ass, that was only a part of the reason behind his request. Maybe he was overestimating how memorable his dick was, but he was suddenly terrified she’d get one look at it in the flesh and recognize it. The thought—and the ensuing guilt—had been hard to shake, but now, in the face of the finest ass in the Western hemisphere, it was hard to even remember his own name.

“Are you coming down here or what?” she mumbled against the pillow, squirming restlessly against the mattress.

“Or what” was definitely out of the question as the remaining blood drained from his head at the sight of her wriggling bottom. Using the distance and dimness of the room to his advantage he stripped off his shirt and pants. He left his underwear on, and then lowered himself back to the bed next to her. Her face was still buried in the pillow, but her frame had gone stiff, with fear or anticipation, he wasn’t sure.

He wasted no time in trying to get her to soften and relax, trailing his fingertips over one ankle, a sleekly muscled calf, to her thigh—which pebbled with goosebumps at the touch—and finally, over the firm cheek of her ass. He’d meant to keep going. To massage the tense muscles in her back for a minute, but he was stuck. The plump curves grabbed a hold of his attention and hung on like a pitbull.