Wound Up (16 page)

Pulling her hair gently, he broke the kiss. His chest heaved. “I don’t have a condom.”

“I haven’t ever had unprotected sex,” she admitted a little shyly.

The caveman in him wanted to roar. He could be her first and last, her only, skin to skin in that hot heat of her channel. He nearly lost control right then.

Swallowing hard, he nodded. “I’ve been tested regularly for eight years now and I’m clean. You on the pill?”

She nodded. “No secret babies tucked away anywhere?” she asked, half teasing but clearly half serious.

“No secret babies.” The image of her swollen with his child made his breath catch in his chest. He wanted to see her that way someday.

“Justin?”

“It’s...” He started to say “nothing” but that would have been a lie. Instead, he let his mouth curl up on one side. “I want you, Ms. Cooper. I want you in the worst way.” Refocusing, he cupped her face and leaned up to kiss her softly, quickly. “No condom?”

“No condom.”

His hands rested on the slight swells of her hips. “Take what you want, Grace. If I have it to give,
anything
I have to give, it’s yours.”

She slipped down to his knees and, without warning, bent forward to take him in between her lips. Deep. So deep.

Justin’s hips surged off the bed as he shouted. He had no idea what he said. All he knew was that one minute he was watching her and the next his eyes had rolled back in his head as he babbled words of love and affection like a virgin schoolboy. Nothing had ever felt so good. Ever. And nothing would feel like this again, this first time she loved him with her lips and teeth and tongue.

He fought the desire to watch, certain he’d lose control and embarrass himself in spectacular fashion as she took him higher and higher.

She was economy of motion and languid movement all in one.

When he couldn’t take it any longer, he leaned forward and cupped one hand under her chin, pulling her up for a swift kiss. “Have to have you now. Don’t want to wait. Can’t wait.” Caveman speak if ever he’d spoken it, but there it was. She reduced him to the most fundamental, basic forms of communication. He was one step short of grabbing her by the shoulders, flipping her over and driving into her like an animal. Fighting that age-old instinct, he forced himself to lie down again. “Take what you want, Grace.”

Hesitant, moving with care, she lifted his heavy erection off his belly and straddled the wide head. Sinking slowly, her head fell back and she gasped as he breeched her outer folds. She worked herself onto him as he watched, rising and falling and taking more of him every time she lowered her lithe body.

Lost to the moment, he tore the shirt off her and placed her hands over her breasts. “Take.”

She began to massage her breasts, tweaking her nipples far harder than he would have imagined was comfortable. But the tiny buds pearled quickly as she made the final thrust home. Wet heat, tight and scalding, wrapped around him, pulling him deep only to release him when she drew herself off his length. Finding her rhythm, she rode him with absolute abandon.

He slid a hand across her hip to the juncture of her thighs, parting her flesh until he found her clitoris. He flicked it with his thumb, hard.

She cried out, her rhythm faltering.

So he did it again.

What had been wanton abandon became a driving, instinctive passion as she held his hand in place and rode him harder. “Please, Justin.”

Exposing the little bud, he thrummed it quickly.

That was all it took.

Justin bent his knees and Grace fell forward, her hands connecting with his chest. Gripping her hips, he pumped into her with brutal efficiency. The laws of love said he couldn’t drive her higher without following, so when she came apart with a shout and her internal muscles clamped down, they pulled his orgasm out without mercy.

The burn at the base of his spine spread fast and hard. His testicles drew up impossibly tight. He wanted to shout, but pleasure rendered him mute as he bowed off the bed, teeth gritted.

Everything he’d thought he’d known about sex and orgasms had just gone out the window. This,
this
was what it was to make love. Maybe a little rough, yes, but one thing held absolutely true. Without a doubt, he’d never experienced anything like this before.

Grace tumbled forward onto his chest, her breathing fast and labored. “Justin,” she said, sleepy awe in her voice. “You held out on me Saturday night.”

He held her to him, pulling the covers over them as their bodies cooled. She was already softly whuffling into his shoulder, and he listened as sleep reclaimed her.

Tucking the covers around her, he wound his arms around her and laid his lips to her temple. There was so much to say to her, so much he wanted her to know. Where to begin? He played out different scenarios over and over, discouraged when none of them seemed quite right.

Sleep claimed him before he figured it out.

16

T
HE
NEXT
DAY
was a series of stops and starts. Grace spent a huge portion of it trying not to stare at Justin—and failing. She was mortified she’d come undone in front of him, but she also realized it had been a long time coming. She’d been undermined at every opportunity, underloved every chance at every turn. No one came away from something like that unscarred. That Justin had let her be today, that he didn’t hound her with questions but had instead let her do her job, was critical.

But with five o’clock fast approaching, she knew she had some decisions to make. She couldn’t afford a night in a hotel, and absolutely wouldn’t let him pay for her. Which left his place. Not the best idea.

He caught her watching the clock when he spun his chair around and faced her. “I made a phone call earlier.”

Her fingers went to ice and cold sweat popped along her nape. “What did you do?” She hated that the accusation was apparent in the question, but she was still fragile and unsure where she stood with him. What they’d shared last night had been off the charts as far as her experience went, but she didn’t know if it had been the same for him.

He leaned back in his chair. “I called my apartment complex manager and made arrangements to get you a key. You can stay with me until we can get your living arrangements sorted out. Of course, you don’t have to stay there. It’s just an option.”

She couldn’t decide whether to grouse at his high-handed approach or throw herself at him with gratitude. Settling for somewhere in the middle, she nodded and offered him a small smile. “Thanks.”

The tiny sound was almost lost in the space of his office. Her heart expanded until she wondered if her ribs might crack.

He’d moved her in with him. He’d taken care of everything, given her options, offered to help her get set up on her own or become a more permanent part of his life. “What if it doesn’t work?”

“I’m pretty responsible, so I would imagine I can manage my own place just fine.”

Again, she was forced to clarify. “No. What I meant was what if it doesn’t work out between us? What if this is just some highly charged emotional save-the-damsel response you’re having and you want to kick me out of your apartment in a few days?”

“I imagine we’ll fight, Grace. Couples do. But it doesn’t have to be ugly or violent or terminal. We’re both educated psychologists. We should, in theory, be able to work through our differences.”

She swiveled her chair toward her little section of the desk to garner as much privacy as she could. “Can I think about it?”

“Yeah.”

His strained answer made her peek over her shoulder. The skin around his eyes had tightened even though the rest of his body appeared relaxed. That’s how she knew he was lying. Well, maybe not “lying,” but he sure wasn’t giving her the complete truth. She’d let it ride for now. There was too much else to handle. “Where will I sleep?”

“With me if you’re comfortable with that.”

Grace’s throat tightened. “Okay. We’ll try it. One day, er, night at a time.”

“Aren’t you going to acknowledge the ‘couples’ comment?” he asked quietly.

Her mouth was so dry she could have sharecropped space right off her tongue. She had to swallow a couple of times before she answered. “You want honesty?”

“Always.”

His nearly vehement response shocked her into turning around fully. “I didn’t even think twice about it.”

“And why is that?”

Heat burned up her neck. “It sounded natural, okay?”

He was at her side in a moment, pulling her from her chair the next. Wrapping her in his strong embrace, he spun her around while he grinned like a loon.

She laughed. “Put me down, you idiot.”

“Grace Cooper is my girlfriend.”

Her lips twitched. “I suppose she is.”

“Lucky girl.”

“Lucky
guy
.”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “No doubt.” Glancing back at the clock, he sighed. “Finally five. Ready to get out of here?”

“Yeah.” She reached for her messenger bag but he snatched it up before she could. “You going to carry my books, too?” she teased, hoisting up the three texts she was using to help her with the day’s case notes.

Justin wiggled his fingers. “Hand ’em over.”

“I might be a damsel, but I’m not in distress.” She rolled her lips together, fighting the bad habit she had of chewing on them. “Not anymore, anyway.”

“You were never in distress, honey. You were just stressed out. Big difference.”

“Explain it to me...on the way home.” She felt a small smile tug at the corners of her mouth when he grinned widely.

“Do you mind if we move your potpie lesson up to tonight? It’s the only night that works for my mom’s schedule. She’s very motherly, so cut her a little slack. She’s going to hover and do everything but find a way to measure your emotional barometer, but it’s because she cares.”

“But she doesn’t know me.”

“Not yet, but she wants me to be happy, and you make me happy.”

Grace’s hand tightened on the strap of her briefcase. If she failed to make Justin happy, she’d not only lose him but the potential she had to be part of his family and an intimate in his circle of friends. Granted, she’d still have her friends, but they were all over the country.

But if she did make him happy? She could have it all. For the first time in her life, the thought of staying in Seattle didn’t make her want to change her name and join the circus. She was content with the idea, so long as she was with Justin. He seemed to be the nucleus to her world at the moment. Or maybe she was the nucleus and he orbited her, bringing with him still others who would orbit them.

There was still the issue of her dreams, the promise of the opportunity in Baltimore and reuniting with Meg. None of it could come to pass if she made this a long-term choice. And she’d really only started “dating” Justin a few days ago. Should she give it all up for an uncertain future? Could she let go of the anger at her mother, a lifetime of hurt and neglect, in order to choose Seattle as her home?

Too many confusing and conflicting thoughts crowded her mind. She had to gain some perspective.

He surprised her when he took her hand.

She yanked it away. “You can’t hold my hand here. You could lose your job and I could fail this practicum.”

Arching a brow, he glanced down at her. “How do you think it’s going to look when you show up at the company Christmas party with me? You can only be an intern so long.”

“But I have to pass this class, Justin. I can’t afford for them to believe you’re unduly biased.”

He stopped and, again, ran his hands through his hair. “You’re right. I’m just so damn proud of having you on my arm and I don’t want to let anything or anyone squash that feeling, but you’re right.” He let go of her hand. “For what it’s worth? I won’t pass you just because you’re phenomenal in bed. That’s simply a perk.”

Swatting him arm, she laughed. “You’re a mess. Ever considered getting your head checked out?”

“Been there, done that. That’s how I ended up becoming a psychologist, why it was so important to me to get my doctorate and come work here. The psychologist I saw at Second Chances
convinced me I was smart enough, empathetic enough and decidedly bullheaded enough to make the ideal doctoral student.”

“I wondered,” she admitted. “I went straight through to get my master’s so I would be sure to get a job that would enable me to pay my own way in life. I guess I also wanted to figure my mom out, why she treated me the way she does. Did. The way she did. I’m done with her now.”

“Good.” He stroked a hand down the back of her head as they walked down the hall, dropping it the moment she gave him a hard look. “I don’t want you going to her, or her house, for anything. We’ll get you new clothes, though underwear are optional,” he whispered, waggling his brows.

“Dirty old man,” she whispered in response.

“Every chance I get.” He slowed his pace until they were facing each other on the sidewalk outside. “For as long as you’ll let me.”

She surprised herself by having an immediate answer at the ready.

“Settle in for the long haul.”

* * *

J
USTIN
WASHED
HIS
HANDS
in the sink in his mom’s kitchen. They had to have their lesson here because he didn’t have pots and pans. Yet. He would, but everything would have to come together slowly. Maybe Grace could pick out a few things for the apartment, things that would help her put her stamp on the place and make it more their home instead of his.

Drying his hands, he bit the inside of his cheek and tried not to smile.
Home.
There, with him. It didn’t get better than that.

Grace turned, her cheeks rosy from the heat of the stove, her eyes no longer shadowed but bright. He wanted to see her like this every day for the rest of their lives.

“What?” she asked.

Leaning a hip against the counter, he crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. If he kept this up, these emotional revelations paired with images of happily-ever-after, he supposed he’d have the wedding invites in the mail before he even proposed.

Darcy said something to Grace before shifting to another task at the counter. Grace met Justin’s gaze. “I love her,” she mouthed.

Justin grinned. All these silent conversations and dancing around as he and Grace tried to be on their best behavior. To hell with that.

Closing the distance between them, Justin picked Grace up and kissed her, fast and sure. “You’re absolutely delicious covered in pastry.”

“Your shirt’s going to have to be treated to get the Crisco out. Sorry.”

“No worries. Our place has a washer and dryer.”

Darcy’s brows rose but she didn’t say anything.

“Did I forget to mention I’m dragging Grace along and subjecting her to the sheer torture of living with me as my live-in love slave?” he asked his mother innocently.

Grace’s face flamed red, but Darcy just laughed, swatting him. “Cut it out, Justin Alexander. You’re embarrassing both of us, and for what?”

“The pretty blushes that stain my girls’ faces.”

“Your flattery will get you nowhere with me.” Darcy took an onion out of the small wooden keeper next to the canisters and tossed it to him. “You two finish up in here while I go round up your sisters and make sure their homework is done. We’ll eat as soon as you call us down.”

As soon as his mother left, Justin let his girlfriend slide down his front and did his level best to ignore the way she molded against him, her curves, strength and soft spots each a temptation. It wouldn’t kill him to keep his hands to himself. For now, anyway. Tonight? She was all his.

Two hours later, the house smelled like heaven. Justin emerged from the small downstairs bathroom and stopped just short of the kitchen doorway. The two women were sitting at the table sipping, presumably, cups of tea and sharing some private time. He wanted to know what they were talking about, but he also didn’t want to interrupt. Conflicted, he stood there longer than he should have.

“Come in, honey. We can hear you lurking out there.”

He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Not lurking, Mom. Just trying to figure out how to grab a Coke from the fridge without interrupting.”

“Don’t tell me that, of all your mad skills, you’re not a certified ninja, too,” Grace said with mock disgust.

“I’ll make it a bullet point on my five-year plan. ‘Become a certified ninja.’” He walked into the kitchen and went straight for the fridge to grab his soda. The oven timer pinged.

“Grab that while you’re there?” Darcy asked. She sighed, propping her chin in her hand. “Seems it was only yesterday I was cooking this very meal just to make sure you came home at night.”

Justin nearly dropped the pie plate when Grace asked, “Where would he have been that he would have possibly missed this?”

Silence hung in the room and thickened the atmosphere.

Grace set her teacup down, her brows drawing together. “Justin?”

“You’ll excuse me for a moment.” Darcy pushed away from the table and hurried from the kitchen.

This wasn’t remotely close to how he’d envisioned having this conversation, but he couldn’t avoid it any longer. Unbuttoning his shirt, he shrugged out of the left sleeve. The elaborate tattoo that banded his biceps felt tighter than a manacle.
Illusion
, he thought. It had been the same way the first three or four years after he’d cut himself off from Deuce-8.

“This?” He traced a finger along the outside center of the design.

“I’ve seen it.”

“Right.” He took a generous sip of his soda before setting the can back down and spinning it slowly around in the ring of condensation. “I...” He cleared his throat and forced himself to meet her steady gaze. “Grace, I was in Deuce-8 for almost five years.” The way the blood left her face made him rush to explain. “Three weeks shy of my sixteenth birthday, a guy offered me a hundred bucks to deliver a note to someone a few blocks away. That’s how it started. Small stuff.”

“Why?” The quiet question held no judgment but a world of confusion.

“My dad was killed in military service and we were desperate for money. I’d take the money and slip an extra five or ten into my mom’s wallet, put gas in the car, buy groceries and sneak them into the house. I thought it bought protection for my family.” He tunneled his fingers through his hair, pulling until it hurt. “I got in way over my head, but I got out. I’ve been free from that lifestyle for a little over a decade. The minute I got my first legit paycheck, I had my rank covered up.” He took her hand and traced her fingers over his ink. “I wanted a clean break. I
needed
it. I’d never have made it to twenty-one if I hadn’t gotten out when I did.”

She followed the intricate design around his biceps. “What did you do for them?”

“I started as a courier and ended as an enforcer.”

“Did you ever kill anyone?”

Closing his eyes, he fought to center his emotions and control the moment that threatened to overwhelm him. “I did. Yes.” He risked a glance at her.