Their Ex's Redrock Serial Bundle 1-4 (9 page)

“Did I hurt you?”

He always asked, because it was rough with Vincent—like a taking. And she loved it. “No, honey,” she whispered against his mouth. Later she’d wonder again what they were doing.

His body stilled with his gaze on her lips. “Say it again,” he muttered.

Tingling started everywhere, but especially where they were still joined. “Honey,” she said softly and with meaning.

His hand stroked her back, sifting through her hair at some moments. “Never expected this,” he uttered.

She stroked his jaw, then fiddled with his hair beside it. “Understatement,” she said, using his curt way of speaking.

His hips thrust a tiny bit upward and she gasped lightly at the heat and fullness. “Might have to do all our talking like this,” he pronounced, and she knew by his tone he meant it.

“Um, that would be interesting,” she replied.

He chuckled, and it made her squeeze him internally. “Whoa, beautiful.” He pulled her mouth to his. “Better get you inside before I fuck that pretty pussy again.”

He kissed her then ... deep, long, and hot, until they were lifting in shallow moves against each other. When their lips broke, she said, “Again?”

He grabbed her breast, squeezing deeply. “You remember how many times in bed the first time.” She made an excited laugh. “I like beds,” he said.

He helped her clean up with a few tissues, then they scooted into the condo. Vincent seemed to know his way around as she started straight upstairs, hoping to get a few minutes to jump into the shower before he tried to break his record.

“Shower,” she called at the top of the stairs. “Be out in a few.” She was taking her boots off as she went, thinking about if she'd packed any sexy lingerie.

She should have known it wouldn’t matter in the end, because five minutes into her shower the door opened and a naked Vincent climbed in. She squealed a little, secretly thrilled. She'd never,
never
fooled around in a shower, and Vincent had enough strength and muscle to really fool around with her curvy body. He even had enough strength to hold her up against the wall and to thrust into her so hard she gasped with water getting in her mouth.

He made her scream over the pounding water, coming again ... but he held off, pulling her off him to wash her hair, and then her breasts, which he thought really needed washing.

“This needs a good scrub,” he advised her, pulling the column of his rigid cock up between her legs, then pulling the thick shaft free.

She laughed, grabbing some soap and getting her palms soapy, then she stroked the heat of his erection, making it slick. Vincent’s muscular back found the wall to lean on and she looked between his leanly aroused face and his hard cock filling her hand.

He finally stopped her, rinsing off and turning off the water, but when she got out, going for a towel, he picked her up before she could reach it. Then with a swinging motion he caught her thighs, lifting her up, and he started to carry her to the bed.

“We’ll get it all wet,” she exclaimed, amazed he could pick her up, not even against a wall for support.

He stopped with her nearly to the bed while she clutched his shoulders, and he seemed to ponder what she’d said for a second, then he turned and started walking out of the master bedroom. “There’s other rooms,” he announced. “I’m licking that sweet, hot pussy of yours.”

T
ess woke in the morning, lying on her belly. She was naked in bed, in the master bedroom of the condo, and she could feel fingers lightly stroking the crease of her behind.

“Sweet ass.” Vincent’s gravelly voice sounded by her ear. “You ever let a man in here.”

Her heartbeat seized, then began beating super slow as some fear collided with instant excitement. “N-no,” she stuttered, turning her head to look at Vincent's inky black eyes, while his fingers kept stroking and her butt started small movements, following.

He felt the movements and his gaze turned molten and wicked, like only pitch-black eyes could. “I like that,” he said, then he grabbed a cheek, squeezing. “Virgin ass.”

Her eyes widened and she was about to start sputtering millions of excuses and reasons she ... they, should
not
go there, when he chuckled and said, “You need to get to work, beautiful, I let you sleep in.”

His hand still warmly held the contours of her buttock, while she quickly turned her head to look at the bedside clock. “Oh, heck,” she exclaimed. She had an hour, maybe. As she rolled out of bed, away from his enticing hand, she wondered how Vincent knew what time she had to be to work. Once she stood beside the bed, she winced lightly. She was a tad sore after their marathon sex sessions last night, and she meant mar-a-thon. My God, Vincent was amazing!

“Damn it, knew you’d get sore,” he muttered, and she turned to look down at him; a pure masculine vision sprawled across the bed with tussled black hair and a fine, rope-muscled chest. He was so handsome lying in her temporary bed with his well-built chest bare and just a sheet pulled up to barely cover his groin.

“Not sure you know this about women, honey,” she started to explain back. “But we have a good sore and bad sore and this, baby, is a
really
good sore. It’s going to put me back into our hot moments together, all day, whenever I feel it.”

“Hot moments,” he stated, with his gaze trailing over her really naked body, in the light of day. It was one thing to see naked bits and parts of her, here and there, but all at once, when she was sober. Eek.

She scurried to the bathroom, her finger pointing at him. “No shower sex, now. No,
no
. Get me? No!”

She got ready in less than twenty minutes. It was record time, mostly because Vincent was gone from the bedroom when she got out of her quick shower. Putting on her makeup, she realized that she hadn’t been thinking about her disintegrating marriage, her hurtful asshole husband, the cheating, or any of it
at
all.

She’d been too busy having an amazingly hot and dazzling affair with a man who was the definition of
manly
. She’d have to mull it all over later at work, because she didn’t have time then to analyze it.

Moments later, when she came slowly down the stairs, she could smell coffee, while her gaze searched for Vincent. Next she sighed with a happy and excited breath at the sight of him, leaning on the kitchen island with his shirt opened, his feet bare, and his ridged belly drawing her gaze down to the unzipped top of his jeans. Wow. Tingles leisurely tingled through her and she wondered if she’d ever been more attracted to a man as she acutely felt the truly good soreness between her legs. Vincent watched her over the rim of his coffee mug, tilted to his lips, as his gaze roamed over her.

She’d chosen a pleated leather mini skirt with a ruffled print camisole and a pair of leopard-print short kit boots with four-inch heels. She might have gone overboard trying to impress Vincent, but his gaze said, even though her hair was still wet, he liked what he saw.

He set his coffee cup on the island top and he started to walk toward her with intentions striking his features. They met before she took the last step down and it put her to his height with her heels on.

“You wear this to work?” His voice was low as he latched on to her waist with his gaze traveling over her, down to her sexy boots. Then he commanded, “Tonight. You naked. In
just
those.”

He was looking at her leopard kit boots, which were very hot, and the tingles turned into heated throbs caused by his words. She wasn’t going to be able to get his sexy, hot idea out of her head all day.

Then his voice rumbled, “Hell, there's not time for what I wanna do to you this second.”

His hand grabbed her ass and skirt, pulling her to him. She laughed with excitement, bracing her hand on his shoulders, then she mimicked his deep voice. “Hell, there’s no time for what I want to do to
you
this second.” Her hands stroked down the warm, tight skin on his bare chest, showing him how she felt about his shirt being open. He chuckled and she loved the sound of it.

“We’re never going to get a chance to talk,” he muttered.

She tilted her head while roaming her hands down the sides of his cut waist. “There's no pillow talk with you,” she agreed. “Afterward there’s only wipe-out glow.”

He grabbed her waist, lifting her in the air, and she quickly grasped his shoulders. “Wipe-out glow, is it?” He brought her down slowly; pressed into his body the entire way. “I might have to call you to talk.” Then he said, “Give me that pretty mouth, no tongue, so you can get to work.”

That sounded so good that she did it, winding her arms over his shoulders so she balanced on the tip of her kit boots, while he grasped her wet hair and moved her mouth to his. Right before their lips touched, he said, “Easy on me now.”

She laughed as they started their kiss, which did turn hot even without tongue. She was lost in their hot kissing, and not tracking, but there was a clicking sound, a rattle, and then Vincent stiffened against her. Next a voice threw her completely out of the kiss.

“Who the hell is
she
!”

Vincent’s lips tore from hers. “Fuck,” he barked, dropping her and standing back.

The screech got louder. “That’s Steven’s fucking bitch!”

It was Luna freaking Whitehorse standing in the entryway with what looked like a key for the condo in her hand. Tess stumbled back to the stairway and grabbed the rail as Vincent moved to the island, but in front of her. With a vicious throw, Luna hurled her key ring at Vincent with such force it would have cut him had he not ducked to the side.

“You’re fucking her!” Luna screeched. She stomped forward. “Are you fucking her!” Her beautiful face was twisted. “Are you fucking her, Vin!” she shouted. “In my house!”

Her house?
Was this Luna’s condo?

Then, before Tess realized, Luna grabbed a decorative bowl off the island and had it in the air with a heave, but she threw it toward Tess while shrieking, “He’s mine, bitch! He’s
fucking
mine, bitch!”

Tess cried out as the bowl went sailing, but Vincent snagged it out of the air with a bat of his hand and it sailed into the sink, hitting and shattering. Then, before Tess could blink, a metal serving spoon came at her next.

“Tess, upstairs now!” Vincent shouted, just managing to bat the spoon away.

“That bitch! That fucking bitch, I’ll tear her up!”

Tess was shaking and panting as she ran upstairs. The woman was insane! She hit the landing and saw Vincent had tackled Luna’s attempt to follow her. Vincent had Luna by the waist from behind, swinging her away from the stairs. Tess didn’t look any more; she just ran to the bedroom and slammed the door shut, locking it.

“Ohmygod,” she panted, leaning against the door. “It’s like she’s mentally ill or something.”

Tess could hear shouting downstairs, but not the words. She grabbed her purse to get her cell while wondering if she should call 9-1-1. The only way to know was to look downstairs, so she kept her cell in her hand and slowly unlocked the door. As softly as she could, she opened it, and she could hear raised voices, but they weren’t shouting any longer.

She tiptoed down the hall but her heartbeat stalled for breathtaking and agonizing seconds when she heard Vincent saying, “I just did her to get back at you, Luna.” His words were snarled and low. “I knew you were doing Navarro.”

Tess’ hand shot to her mouth so she wouldn’t scream. “Baby, I thought I
had
to do him to get my shot at fame.” That was Luna. Tess sank down against the wall with tears burning her eyes.

“I don’t fucking want her, Luna, it was a point,” Vincent’s voice growled.

No, no, no
cried through Tess’ mind.

T
ess stomped into the office of Rowdie’s Motel, hoping her puffy eyes and red nose looked more like she was drunk than the truth—she’d been crying. It was freaking nine thirty in the morning, so if she were drunk it had to look like a bender. She saw her target and marched to the counter. There was a vague bit of surprise in the back of her mind seeing Finn O’Neil behind the counter that early. Really, her surprise was how hot he looked in a really badass criminal way, but she was heartbroken and could not dwell on that.

“I want a room,” she stated in a voice that sounded like an everyday calm voice, which she was proud of, seeing as Vincent Whitehorse had just crushed her heart, used it, and then tossed it back.

Tess avoided Finn’s crystal-green eyes, until she heard his gravelly voice announce, “No fucking way, Chiquita.”

“Ah ...” she started to say, looking up at him and seeing his black goatee pulled down with the line of his firm lips. Those eyes of his gazing straight into her gave her an inappropriate, but nevertheless real, thrill of awareness. “You can’t deny me a room,” she explained.

He stood from a stool he’d been sitting on. It brought him over her and the counter between them even with her high-heeled kit boots on. Her heartbeat fluttered more as he leaned over the counter and she forced herself not to back away. That close he was even more handsome, with long, dark eyelashes and black hair so thick it shone as if it were wet. Then she smelled a yummy Irish spring soap smell, mixed with man, wafting over her that must have lingered from a very recent shower. She tilted toward the smell before she could help herself.

Those brilliant jeweled eyes of his narrowed slightly as if he studied her, suddenly becoming very intent. She might have forgotten to breathe.

“Breathe,” he ordered on a rumbled growl. Tess shuddered and sucked in a breath. “Where’s your man, Vincent?” he demanded, looking at her mouth, which got nervous and she had to lick her lips.

This seemed to narrow his gaze further. “He’s not my man,” she hissed. “I’m married,” she blurted, and why she thought to add that ridiculous assertion was beyond her.

“Don’t need to tell you the affair on that one,” Finn said with a gentler, deep voice. Tess blinked. Hell, he knew! Finn, owner of the dive motel in town, knew about her husband’s affair. Had the cheaters come to Rowdie’s? The question was on the tip of her tongue when he continued.