Rumor (A Renegades Novella) (11 page)

Josh turned with a look of confusion. But as soon as his eyes met hers, a nervous tic pulled at the skin beneath his left eye.

She’d only seen Josh nervous once in all the years they’d known each other—when she’d asked him to move in with her while he recovered from shoulder surgery. The expression he’d had then was the same one he had now, one that said, I-want-that-
but
…

With determination fueling her steps, Grace started a slow, sexy walk toward him, extending her legs, crisscrossing her boots, holding the I-want-to-fuck-you sultry look she constantly required of the dancers.

“You left before the number was over.” She laid her hand on the gypsum board, toying with the edge with one finger. “Missed the best part of the show.”

He was fighting to keep his gaze on her face, but it kept slipping, and the heat there deepened. “If that’s true,” he said, his voice low and rough, “I’m glad I left when I did, or I would have definitely embarrassed myself.”

She stepped close and purposely met and held his gaze as she pressed the tip of her index finger to the center of his chest. “So…you didn’t hate it.”

She let her gaze follow her finger as she drew the tip upward along his sternum. The barely there white mist cleared to show tanned skin beneath. Then she arched to the left, creating a curve around the top of his pec muscle and dragged her finger down at an angle sharp enough to brush his nipple as she passed. The nub hardened beneath her finger, and Josh sipped a little breath of surprise. She continued in a slow, downward angle until her finger touched the waistband of his jeans. And, yes, there was definitely a substantial bulge there. One she desperately wanted to explore.

“Seeing me dance like that doesn’t…I don’t know…disgust you on any level?”

She scraped her lower lip between her teeth and placed the tip of her finger at the original starting point. Then followed her previous pattern, this time, arcing to the right.

“The opposite,” he murmured, voice rough. “Seeing you own that stage is ridiculously hot.”

Her smile deepened, her confidence soared, and with it, her lust broke free, spilling through her body like glitter.

This time when she brushed his opposite nipple, gooseflesh broke out over his chest, and his eyes closed for a brief second. She finished off the nearly invisible shape of a heart where her finger met his jeans again. Fisting the waistband, she pulled him around so his back faced the chair, then pushed him into the seat.

His breath whooshed out on a soft grunt. Before he could speak, Grace planted her heel on the seat at his hip, gripped his face in both hands, and leaned in until her mouth was a breath from his and whispered, “I’m about ready to own
you
.”

Instead of kissing him, she stroked his bottom lip with her tongue. He opened and leaned forward, his mouth searching for hers, but she pulled back with a teasing smile. “On my terms.”

This power trip was a surge of lusty goodness, and she wondered if this was how the dancers felt on stage in front of dozens of men. She took two steps back, shrugged the cape, and let it fall to her elbows. The throb of Korn’s grungy beat of “Coming Undone” pulsed through the walls, and her body moved easily, smoothly, and without any conscious thought. For Grace, dancing was built into her muscle memory. What she needed to concentrate on now was tantalizing Josh out of his mind.

Turning her back to him, she let the cape slide off her arms, let her upper body fall forward, exposing her ass beneath the short little skirt for Josh’s view—just out of his reach.

“Jesus—” he rasped, but trailed off when she straightened, tossed her hair back, and rocked her hips in a slow sway as she lowered to a crouch, thighs spread.

She fell to her knees, then her belly. Rolled and sat up, letting her hands stroke up her body to the beat of the muffled music.

Josh was leaning forward, elbows on knees. Lids heavy, eyes burning, skin glistening with a fresh sweat. “You’re killin’ me, Grace.”

When he held out his hand, she took it, easing to her feet, but when he tried to pull her close, she spun out of reach and strode behind him. One hand slid across his wide shoulders, before she leaned in, pressing her breasts to his back, but the small amount of skin-on-skin contact wasn’t near what she needed. She kissed his neck. He was salty and gritty, smelling of sawdust and fresh sweat and lust. He was everything she craved.

Her hands trailed across his shoulders, over his hard chest, down his warm abdomen. His hands covered her arms, caressed her skin. He dropped his head back, and pressed his face to the base of her neck just as her hand slid over his crotch.

Heat and sensation spread outward from his mouth, slid into her chest, and pulled at her nipples. She tightened her hand on his cock, hard and thick beneath his jeans.

His mouth dropped open on a groan, and his hands rose to grip her face and pull her mouth to his—open and hot. His tongue swept in, found hers, and stroked. She met his kiss and returned all the passion as her fingers worked his button, pulled at his zipper, pushed at fabric, and finally,
finally
closed around his bare cock.

Josh broke the kiss on a rough “Ah,
fuck
…” His hips lifted into her touch. “Gracie…”

Her name was a plea. One that exposed his need, his vulnerability. Grace fed off each and every reaction, gaining a sense of power, of control, of possession—but not over Josh. Over herself. That combined with living out this fantasy was absolutely intoxicating.

She pulled the condom from her waistband, held it in front of him so he could watch her tear the foil and unroll the slick coil just enough to swallow his head, then scraped his ear between her teeth and whispered, “I’m so wet for you.”

“Holy fuck…” He was panting now, muscles strung tight, one hand gripping the edge of the chair, one arm up and around her neck, his hand fisted in her hair. His gaze followed her hands as she pulled his cock from the restriction of his boxers and stroked him, loving the feel of the silky smooth skin covering a steel-hard cock. “Gracie…”

She fitted the condom to the head of his cock.

His hips pulsed on a curse. His head fell back, mouth dropped open, eyes squeezed tight. “
Fuck
.” His head rolled side to side, and the hand on the chair snapped up and gripped her wrist, pulling her hand from him. “I can’t… I’m sorry. It’s been too long. I can’t have you touching me like that. I need to be inside you when I come, Grace.
Need to
.”

She kissed his neck. Once, twice, three times, until his hand relaxed around her wrist. “I’m on board,” she whispered, “but let me get this on first.”

And she stroked the condom down his length. His muscles contracted, hips lunged, back arched.

A low, hot laugh slipped from her throat, a thrill rolling through her veins. “Damn, this is fun.”

He clamped down on her wrist and hauled her around the chair, wrapping his forearm around her waist as he tried to pull her onto his lap. “This is more fun.”

“You forgot something.” Grace pushed against his shoulders and wiggled away. Standing in front of him in full fluorescent light, Grace bent, laid her hands against her knees, then dragged them slowly up her thighs, lifting her skirt. Josh’s gaze burned over the red thong, his chest rising and falling with shallow, quick breaths. “These might get in the way.”

She hooked her thumbs into the panties at her hips and shimmied them down until her skirt covered her pussy again, then she let her panties drop down her thighs, her calves. Pressing one hand to the seat beside Josh’s hip, she bent provocatively over his lap while reaching for her panties and dragging them over her heels.

Josh sat forward, both hands gripping the backs of her thighs, sliding higher, higher, then cupping her ass. Big, warm, firm hands squeezing her cheeks.

“Fucking perfect,” he murmured, tugging her closer.

She caught herself with one hand on the back of the chair. Josh’s hands slid back down her thigh and lifted her thigh to his hip. Then his fingers stroked the heat between her legs from behind, and a luscious wave of pleasure rocked through her sex, her hips, her chest.

She arched, pushing her pussy back, and her breasts forward. Suddenly, she was totally out of control again. Josh’s thick fingers touched and stroked, while his other hand gripped her breast, shoved the tiny bikini top aside, and he sucked her nipple into his mouth.

“Oh
God
…” She arched higher, and Josh pushed his fingers into her heat.

He groaned against her breast, licking and sucking her nipple while his other hand created a whirlwind of delicious pressure in her pussy. Time and place started to slip away. The music faded against the siren rising in her head. It had been so long. So very, very long. He did everything too right. And it was coming too fast.

“Josh…” she panted, gripping the chair so tight her hand had gone numb. Glancing down, she found his eyes closed, long golden lashes soft against his cheek, an expression of bliss on his face, that sexy mouth covering her breast again and again. “Josh…I can’t…”

As if knowing she was trying to tell him she couldn’t wait, he pushed deep into her body and…did something…exquisite. Something that made the razor edge of heaven streak through her body, made her mouth drop, made her throat close around a scream of ecstasy.

Then he scraped his teeth over her nipple and she felt the bite all the way to her pussy, shooting her over the edge.

“Fuck, fuck,
fuck
…” The orgasm hit her so hard, her body jerked and she fell forward. Josh caught her around the waist and held her tight as the orgasm ripped through her body in shards of pleasure and light. Smaller pleasure shocks rippled through her, pussy clenching, clit tingling, belly quivering.

She hadn’t even found the strength to open her eyes, when Josh gripped her waist, lifted her off the ground and drew her over his lap.

Her knee caught on the edge of the chair, and Josh hauled it free, dragging her thighs to straddle his own. “Sorry, fuck… Can’t wait… Jesus, Grace… Look at me, baby.” With one hand positioning his cock against her slick sex, he gripped her face with the other and dragged her gaze to his. “Look at me.”

As soon as her heavy-lidded eyes latched on to his, he lifted, pressing the head of his cock past the tightness of her entrance. The stretch, the burn, the pressure—it was exquisite, and Grace closed her eyes on a sound between a moan and a cry.

Josh froze. His hand tightened on her face. “Grace?”

“So good,” she panted. “Don’t stop.”

“Jesus…” His muscles uncoiled, and he shoved her skirt up, fisted it against her hip as he lowered her in excruciatingly slow increments onto his cock. But he was thick, and long and by the time she surrounded him, they were both dripping sweat. “Fuck, baby, you’re so damn tight.”

She tried to smile but half winced instead. “I don’t get out much.”

“That’s insane.” He kissed her lips. “You’re so hot, so gorgeous…” He kissed her neck, giving her time to adjust to his size. “
God
, you feel
so
fucking
good
…”

“Man,” she laughed, tipping her head, giving him room to slide his mouth to her collarbone. “You’re a talker…”

“I’ve wanted this for so fucking long…”

“Then let’s get this show started.” She tipped her head, kissed his lips, and whispered, “Hook your feet on the chair rungs, and hold on for the ride.”

Josh’s thighs tensed beneath her as he repositioned his boots, and she met his gaze, stroking her hands up her body and sweeping her bikini top off over her head. Josh’s hungry eyes fell to her breasts. She continued to slide her hands around her neck, beneath her hair, and collected the silky mass into messy handfuls.

Then she started to move. She didn’t know if this rhythm came naturally to all women or if her dancing made it feel so perfect, but dragging his thick cock against her walls and driving him back in until the pressure tugged on her clit and spread pressure through her pelvis felt beautiful and perfect and as primal as breathing.

“You are more woman than I ever dreamed of.” His hands traveled over her body, his gaze following. “Sexier than my hottest fantasy.”

Her second orgasm built fast and deep, a push of pleasure every time she sank over him. She gripped the back of the chair and used her thighs to pump harder, faster.

Josh’s hands cupped her head, drawing his mouth to hers, where his kiss was erotic and loose and wet, just like their sex. Then he broke away his hands sliding over her breasts, pinching her nipples, shooting twin shocks of pleasure straight between her legs. He gripped her waist, his big, rough hands spanning across smooth, delicate skin, and drew her down on his cock harder while lifting into her.

The head of his cock hit that place deep, deep inside her that squirted pleasure through her body, and she moaned.

“You like it hard?”

“Hard and deep. I can’t get enough.”

Josh leveraged the rungs of the chair. His thighs, rock hard and warm, clenched on every upward thrust. His hands pulled her hips down to meet him.

“Oh
shit
, yes,” she breathed, her chest inflating with another climax. “God, perfect.” Another slam, and she whimpered at the extreme perfection of it. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

His thrusts grew faster, creating a perfect rhythm. “Look at me, Gracie.”

She opened heavy lids and found a level of heat in his gaze she couldn’t ever remember seeing in any man, not even Isaac. Josh was focused, intense, determined. And she realized she wasn’t owning him, he was owning her.

And that was exactly what she wanted—to be his.

She released the chair with one hand, cupped his face, and pressed her forehead to his.

“Come for me again, Gracie,” he ordered more than asked. Pounding, pounding, pounding. “Come for me.”

This orgasm hit like a punch of velvet, harder and deeper and longer than the first, arching her back and rocking her body. Josh’s muscles turned to rock beneath her, his guttural sounds vibrating against the skin of her neck as he broke, hips pumping, hands digging into her hips.