Fall Into You (35 page)

She raised herself and plunged back down, slowly at first and then faster, until she
was riding him with a rhythm that had his own mind going fuzzy. The sound of skin
meeting skin filtered through the night, and the intoxicating scent of sex enveloped
them, mixing with the smell of the freshly cut grass. Grant’s free hand curled into
the sod as every nerve in his body seemed to vibrate.

Rarely did he give a woman free rein like this. He was so used to controlling the
speed and execution of every little aspect of sex. But Charli was sending him down
a track with no brakes, and all he wanted to do was enjoy the ride. No soft, romantic
lovemaking for his girl. She wanted it hard and fast tonight, and he was happy to
oblige her. He worked his fingers against her folds, teasing and pinching, then stroked
her clit until he could feel she was on the brink.

“Grant,” she whispered, the begging so gentle but the clench of her sex like a sweetly
tortuous vise grip.

“I’m right there with you, darlin’. Go for it.”

She fell forward, bracing her hands against his chest, and canted her hips even faster,
fucking him with a desperation that turned his blood into rocket fuel. Her sharp pants
hit his cheeks, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from her face—parted lips, closed
eyes, the gorgeous glow of exertion. He loved how she let the passion engulf her.

He pressed his fingers along the sides of her clit, and her body
tightened around him, her thighs squeezing his hips and her pussy contracting around
his cock.

Liquid bliss shot through his veins and straight downward, his release hurtling forward.
“Fuck, baby.”

“Oh, God.” Her head tipped back.

Orgasm crashed over both of them, pulling them under and drowning them. He grabbed
her hips, driving deep, and stifling a moan as his release pulsed inside her. Her
nails dug into his shirt, but the only sounds that escaped her were these little sharp
catches in the back of her throat. It was the sexiest damn sound he’d ever heard.

When both their sounds of restraint had quieted, she finally opened her eyes and melted
against him, pressing her cheek to her shoulder. “That was way more fun than an awards
presentation.”

“You got that right.” He chuckled and kissed the top of her head, then froze. Was
that the murmur of voices? The crunch of leaves? “Get up, freckles.”

“What’s wrong?” she asked, immediately raising herself up and off of him.

He hurriedly tucked himself back into his pants and pulled up his zipper. “I think
I hear someone.”

Panic lit her features. “Shit.”

She scrambled to her feet, straightening her dress and checking to make sure she was
covered. But there was no way she’d be able to hide that flushed, post-orgasm glow.
He stood and dusted the grass off his backside. “Just take a deep breath. Someone’s
coming, but I doubt anyone saw us.”

Soon, two men walked out from the bank of trees a few yards away and headed toward
the edge of the pond. They were deep in conversation and didn’t seem to even notice
they weren’t alone. Grant grabbed Charli’s hand. “Come on. Let’s pretend like we got
lost and make our way back to the party.”

She nodded and clasped his hand, but before they took a handful
of steps, one of the men glanced over and saw them. The conversation halted.

“This part of the grounds is not open to guests,” the man called.

Grant raised a palm. “No problem. We got a little off course. We’re heading back now.”

The white-haired man headed their way, and his companion turned and followed. As the
two men approached, Charli went stiff next to Grant. She pulled her hand from his.
“Crap. What the hell is he doing here?”

Grant was about to ask her what she meant, but then the elderly man’s wide-shouldered
friend squinted at Charli.
“Beaumonde?”

Charli sighed. “Hi, Trey.”

Trey. Grant searched his brain, trying to remember if Charli had ever mentioned that
name.

The guy looked Charli up and down with evaluating eyes. “Wow, I barely recognized
you all dressed up. What are you doing here?”

Grant gritted his teeth, the guy’s tone and perusal of Charli pushing Grant’s
mine
buttons.

Charli shifted from one boot to the other, then looked over to Grant as if deciding
whether to come up with a story or tell the truth. “I’m on a date. This is Grant Waters.
Grant, this is Trey Winger, my boss.”

Her boss. And ex-lover. The guy who told her she wasn’t good enough for an on-air
position. Grant stuck out his hand and shook Trey’s maybe a bit too firmly. Trey looked
between Grant and Charli, openly curious.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” Charli said.

Trey shrugged and put a hand on the older man’s shoulder. “Mr. Brinkley invited me.
He sits on the station’s board of directors and owns this property.”

More introductions were exchanged, and Grant could sense Charli’s professional image
rising like the tide. Her posture turned
straighter, her voice firmer, despite the fact that her heart had to be hammering
in her chest. Hell, his own knees were still a little weak from their interlude. Seeing
Charli flip that switch so easily gave him a ridiculous sense of pride. His girl had
her shit together.

His girl
. Damn, he needed to tame those thoughts.

He grabbed her hand again anyway, ignoring the satisfaction he felt when she grabbed
back.

Mine,
his mind whispered.

“So do you think your boss saw anything?” Grant asked as he turned the truck into
Charli’s neighborhood.

She shrugged, thinking back to the way Trey had looked at her when he’d realized who
she was. That
wow
reaction had been more than a little satisfying, had made every wax and pluck of
her makeover worth it. Nothing like a great how-ya-like-me-now moment. “I really don’t
think so. Trey’s not smooth enough to cover up his reactions that well. He wouldn’t
have said anything, but he would’ve shown some sign.”

“I thought when you two went off on your own for a few minutes that he was going to
confess to having seen us.”

“Nah, I just wanted to tell him about my big break in the story,” she said, looking
out the window at her sleepy neighborhood. “He was really excited. Offered to go with
me in the morning.”

“Is that right?” Grant said, his sarcasm evident.

She looked over at him, frowning. “It’s going to be a huge story. Of course, he’d
be interested in going.”

“Uh-huh.”

“What?”

Grant’s gaze slid toward her, then back to the road. “You should know that boss of
yours is still interested in you.”

She snorted. “Oh, please. First of all, this is the guy who told me I wasn’t pretty
enough for TV. Second of all, I’ve been down that road with him and have no interest
in going back. He knows that.”

Plus, how could she go back to someone like Trey after experiencing what she had with
Grant? It’d be like going back to canned ham after you’ve had Kobe beef.

“Freckles, I’ve spent a lot of time in my life observing people’s behavior. And the
way Trey acted with you tonight was like a dog on the hunt. His attention never left
you when you moved around the party. And the guy looked at me with challenge in his
eyes.” Grant smirked at her. “Which proves he’s not only interested in you but apparently
has a death wish.”

She laughed. “Ooh, jealousy. Looks kind of pretty on you, cowboy.”

He sniffed.

“For the record, I told him he didn’t need to come along. I don’t want him spooking
my source.”

“Smart,” Grant said. “Maybe you should be his boss instead of the other way around.”

“I wish.”

Grant made the turn onto her street and stared out at the road. “You know you could
always stay at The Ranch and tell Trey and the rest of the guys who turned you down
for the position to go fuck themselves. I could cover your expenses until you find
something else.”

His words sounded off the cuff, but the shift in his posture said otherwise. She stared
at him, the suggestion stalling her ability to respond for a second. Was he seriously
suggesting that she stay? The thought of having something longer term with him tugged
at a
longing deep within her bones, but she knew that it would eventually end badly. After
all, he’d said she could stay at The Ranch, not
with
him. She had no interest in being some woman he kept around for occasional entertainment.

“I’m not going to quit my job,” she said. “And I’m definitely not going to let you
pay me for sex.”

He shot her a come-on-now look. “You know that’s not what I was suggesting. I just
hate to see you working so hard for people who don’t appreciate your skills. You’re
busting your ass, and they don’t even pay you enough to afford a safe car to drive.
I have the means to help you if you needed time to find something different.”

“I appreciate the thought. But I can take care of things myself,” she said, straightening
in her seat.

“You don’t always have to, though,” he said quietly, almost more to himself than to
her.

She didn’t have an answer to that.

His truck rumbled up her driveway, and she couldn’t help the little pang of sadness
that hit her seeing her house so dark and lonely. Her home wasn’t much, but it’d been
her first real place after moving out of her family’s house, so it always gave her
a sense of pride knowing she’d gotten it on her own. And though Grant’s guest cabin
was great, nothing could replace having your own things around you.

Grant shut off the engine. “Give me your keys. I want to check inside and make sure
everything’s okay before you go in.”

“I’m sure nothing else has happened. They took everything they could possibly want
the first time.”

He held out his palm. “Better to be safe, freckles.”

She sighed and dropped her keys in his hand. He reached past her and unlocked the
glove compartment, removing his handgun. Her first instinct was to protest, but if
anything was wrong in the house, she’d want Grant to have protection. “Be careful,
okay? I’d rather not end the evening with a dead date.”

He smirked. “Aww, nice to know you care, freckles.”

She rolled her eyes, but the move was forced. The truth was she
did
care. Too much probably. And the more they spent time together, the more her heart
was digging roots into the slippery slope they were both residing on.

“Don’t come in until I give you the all clear.” He hopped out of the truck and headed
toward her front door, scanning the area as he went.

He disappeared inside the house for a few long minutes, no doubt examining every nook
and cranny, then finally stepped back onto the porch. He looked so big standing there
in front of her dainty white house—like the big, bad wolf ready to blow it down. He
leaned against a post and sent her a smile that promised sin.

Her stomach did a little flip. She pushed open the truck’s door and climbed out. “Everything
looks all right?”

“We’ve got the place all to ourselves,” he said as she got closer. “And can I tell
you how happy I am that you have a four-poster bed?”

She took the two steps up to the porch. “You didn’t get enough by the pond, cowboy?”

He locked an arm around her waist and pulled her against him. “Not nearly. Never enough
with you.”

Her skin went goose bumpy as her chest pressed against his. “You know I have an early
morning ahead of me?”

“Hmm,” he said, backing them both through the open doorway, then kicking the front
door shut. “Maybe we should skip sleep altogether, then.”

“You’re insatiable.”

“Guilty as charged.” He went for the tie on her wrap dress and pulled. “But you can
always say no.”

She knew she should stop him, knew that every time she let him touch her she became
more ensnared in her fucked-up feelings for
him, but she couldn’t resist the siren song and the rush of having his hands against
her again. “Why do I never want to?”

He shoved the dress off her and kissed and licked his way up her neck. “You’re always
so edible, Charlotte. I can taste the night air on you.”