Grinder (Seattle Sharks Book 1) (10 page)

“No,” she whispered, but I felt how tense she was under my hands.

“Next!” Lettie declared and took off for the next house.

“This is the last one, Lettie-Lou. Then we need to head home,” I told her, then took Bailey’s hand in my own, stroking my thumb over the delicate skin. “You’re not her Mother,” I admitted, and nearly kicked myself when she flinched. “That’s not what I mean.” I stopped us in the middle of the sidewalk while Lettie tackled the porch ten feet away. Then I cupped Bailey’s face in my hands. “You’re her Bailey. Think about what she knows of mothers. You’re not her mother—you’re her Bailey...and that is so much better.”

I kissed her softly, wishing she could see herself through my eyes, really see how amazing she was with my daughter—with me.

“Just like the movie!” Lettie squealed and clapped, losing some of the candy out of her bag as she bounded back down the sidewalk to us. “Now are you going to sing?”

Bailey panicked, but I wouldn’t let her pull away. If we were going to do this, really try, then Lettie had to be brought in on it, and from the looks of things, she wasn’t bothered in the least bit.

“No, but if you’re lucky, I’ll let you watch the movie while I sort through all this candy and make sure it’s safe for you,” I said to my daughter as I took Bailey’s hand. “Let’s get you two home before you turn into pumpkins.”

“Worry wart,” Bailey teased.

“About my girls? Always.”

“
I
’ll be there
in a half-hour,” I said, raising my voice so Paige could hear me over the speaker as my cell sat on the bathroom counter. I wrestled with the costume Jeannine had sent over for me to wear to the invite-only party she was having at her restaurant
Nine’s.

I turned around to check myself in the mirror and my eyebrows rose. “Did Jeannine pick out your costume too?” I asked Paige, smoothing my hands over the tight black fabric.

“Yes. The woman is hilarious. I’m a sexy nun. Can you believe that? I didn’t even think there was such a thing.”

I burst out laughing, hurrying to add a little black eyeliner to make my eyes pop. “I’ll give you three guesses what I am.”

“Sexy soccer mom?”

I chuckled. “Nope.”

“Sexy maid?”

“Bingo. French maid outfit for the win.” I shook my head. “She has some nerve. She better show up in fishnets and a chef’s jacket or I’m changing back into the postulant dress Maria wears.”

“What kind of three-year-old loves the Sound of Music that much?” Paige asked as I fluffed my hair.

“The best kind. Seriously.”

“How’d Gage look as Captain Von Trapp?”

I scooped up my cell and took it off speaker, pressing it to my ear. “Sexy as hell. Naturally.”

“You have got to press that soon.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“I know,” Paige said. “Jeannine is on me about that damn list still.” She chuckled. “All right, girl. I’m heading toward
Nine’s
now. Would you like me to send a car for you?”

“No, thank you,” I said. “I’ll have Lettie bright and early tomorrow morning. I won’t be drinking tonight.”

“See you in a few,” Paige said and I hung up the phone.  

One last look in the mirror, surveying the tight fishnet stockings that made my legs look long and lean and just a bit dirty, and the poufy skirt that was just a couple inches too short, sent butterflies flapping in my stomach. I wasn’t certain I’d run into Gage on my way out, but I would pay money to see his face when he saw me in this getup.

Lettie had looked downright adorable in her custom Gretl dress I’d spent weeks working on, and it had been worth stopping at all the houses around the neighborhood just to see the glitter in her eyes as she blared
The Hills are Alive
at the top of her lungs. And, after a good amount of puppy-eyes, she’s talked her Grammy into taking her around her neighborhood for a quick pass too and a follow-up slumber party. Gage had barely put up a fight—he never could deny her anything.

I walked down the hallway toward the kitchen where I’d left my clutch on the island, my stilettos clicking audibly against the hardwood floors.

“Bailey do you need---“ Gage called out as I rounded the corner, stopping abruptly once I came into full view. His mouth dropped almost as quickly as my black clutch he’d had in his hand. It hit the floor with a loud smack and I couldn’t help but giggle.

“I do, thanks,” I said and bent down to pick it up. My breasts half-popped out of the insanely tight corset top that went along with the overly poofy skirt. I gasped, covering my girls and scooping the clutch up as quickly as possible.

Note to self: One, kill Jeannine. Two, don’t bend over at the party.

“Now that Lettie is out with your mom, did you want to be my date to
Nine’s?
” I asked, walking to the mirror by the breakfast table and adjusting my top one more time.

“No,” Gage said, and my eyes snapped up to his, where I could see him behind me in the mirror.

“What’s that?” I asked, sure I’d heard him wrong. He’d taken off the sleek, period accurate Captain Von Trap jacket, which laid over one of the island’s barstools. The tight white t-shirt he’d worn underneath left nothing to my imagination of the chiseled form beneath it—not that I needed to imagine, I was surprised he had a shirt on at all.

“No,” he repeated and I tilted my head. “You can’t go out tonight.”

My shoulders sank. “Did Lettie eat too much candy? Is she sick? I looked in the direction of her room, though I hadn’t heard his mother bring her home. I pulled up a text to Jeannine, my fingers working over the buttons. “I’ll go change and fix her some tea.”

I moved to go to my room, more than ready to strip this outfit off and slip into a role I was way more comfortable with, which was taking care of Lettie.

Gage snatched the phone out of my hand, tapping the screen to delete the text I had up, only to type out a new one. He turned the screen toward me before hitting send.

Change of plans. Spending the evening with Gage.

My heart jolted in my chest as the lust in his eyes turned molten. He took the clutch out of my hand and laid it and my phone gently on the table. He advanced toward me and I retreated until my back hit the edge of the kitchen island.

“Who says I want to spend the night with you?” I managed to say though my mouth had suddenly gone dry.

He placed an arm on either side of me, successfully caging me in and filling my vision. He trailed his lips along mine, just the breath of a touch.

“Am I wrong?” he whispered against them.

Heat sparked in my core as he planted a soft trail of kisses along my jaw. I tilted my head, giving him free reign over my neck.

“No,” I said, slightly breathless. Sweet mercy, that felt
good.

“No, stop? Or no, please
don’t
stop?” He flicked his tongue against my collarbone and chills erupted across my skin.

I grabbed a fistful of his hair. “Don’t stop.”

Gage smirked and wrapped his arms around my hips, bringing our bodies flush as he claimed my mouth. I opened for him, letting his tongue trace the edges of my teeth as he expertly drew a moan from my lips.

“Gage.” I sighed, hooking my legs around his hips as he hefted me onto the island.

His lips worked their way from my mouth to the tops of my breasts that peeked generously out of the costume, to my tummy, where the fabric was tight and thin. He slipped his hands underneath the skirt, gripping my thighs.

“These fishnets may be hotter than those yoga pants you torture me with,” he said, a smirk on his face. “But a maid? Really?”

“Jeannine has a wonderful sense of humor,” I said, yanking him closer to me with my legs, sighing at the friction his perfectly placed cock offered me.

He growled, nipping lightly at my neck. “Remind me to send her a thank you note.” He dug his fingers into the holes of the tights as I pulled his shirt over his head.

Good God this man looked better and better every time I saw him shirtless. His broad chest and rock hard abs were glorious, and he was finally allowing me to touch them, which I did, like a greedy, starved woman. His skin felt so good underneath my fingertips, like warm velvet, and the groan on his lips when I dipped my hand to grip him soaked my panties.

He reclaimed my mouth, ripping the fishnets out from under the skirt as he licked and sucked my tongue. I gasped when he slipped the black lace thong to the side, his fingers finding home against my clit.

“Fuck, Bailey,” he said against my mouth. “You’re so wet. Perfection.”

I bucked against the pressure of his hand, sighing between his lips. He gave into my demands, obliging me with his fingers plunged inside me, curling them in a come hither motion as I rocked against him. Heat pooled low in my belly and all my muscles coiled as I tightened around him. He kissed me until I was breathless, before jerking his head back and working his way lower. He replaced his hand with his mouth, his head disappearing beneath my skirt.

The marble counter was cold against my barely covered shoulders as I laid on my back, gripping the edge of it above me—I needed something to hold onto and despite his shoulder being solid again, there was no way in hell I’d risk hurting him.

Was he?
Yes, yes he is.

I gasped as his tongue worked over my clit, the already sensitive flesh reaching new levels of heat as he applied just enough pressure to torture me. The tips of my stilettos dug into his back as I arched against his mouth, moaning and writhing with the need for release. He’d built up my need for so long that I was already spun tight.

“Gage,” I groaned.

“I knew it. You’re fucking delicious, Bailey.” His breath was hot against me. “I could wear you around my face all fucking day.”

“I won’t let you if you don’t—” my words were cut off as he slipped his tongue inside me. A jolt of electricity shot through me, my body coiling so tight I thought I might not survive.

“Don’t what?” He asked, challenging me. I could hear the smirk in his tone but didn’t care.

“Please, Gage.”

“Say it, Bailey.”

“I need it.” The culmination of weeks worth of wanting him built inside me, and I was on the cusp of explosion.

“You really fucking do,” he said and pressed his fingers against my clit as his tongue worked me from the inside out.

I bucked against him, the added pressure gathering rapidly, and when he took my clit into his mouth, sucking it in just the right way, I came undone beneath him.

Holy shit.
There were orgasms, and there was whatever the hell
that
was. It was another realm of pleasure I’d never seen.

He gave me only a moment, bringing me down with a few gentle strokes before I heard the beautiful sound of his zipper dropping. He finally came out from underneath my skirt, where I could see the fire in his eyes before he ripped open a foil packet.

My heart raced, loving that he didn’t take any time to stop, didn’t take time to think—he was as lost to this as I was. He slid my panties off and left my heels on. Gripping my hips, he drew me to where he stood, situating me on the counter at the perfect angle for the tip of his cock to tease my wet, aching center. He locked eyes with me, and I arched against him, one of his strong hands holding the small of my back. That was all the go signal he needed, and he plunged inside me.

“Fuck, Gage!” I screamed, breathless as his length filled me. I clenched around him, bucking against each of his thrusts as he controlled our speed with the strength of his hands.

“I love it when you say
fuck
,” he growled, angling me to get deeper.

I moaned and he leaned down closer to me, wrapping his free hand around the back of my neck, and lifting me enough to meet his mouth. His kiss was as consuming as the way his cock filled me, and I writhed beneath him, never wanting him to stop.

Which is exactly what he did, shocking the hell out of me as he went still against me.

“Let’s move to the bedroom. You deserve a bed,” he whispered against my lips before kissing down my neck. He wrapped his arms around around my hips as if to pick me up, but I grabbed a fistful of his hair and jerked him to me.

“Don’t you
dare
stop,” I ordered. I would not let him go. I refused to give him a moment to think, to take me to his room and remember all the reasons he’d kept me out of there since I’d moved in. I secured my legs around his waist and moved them back and forth, forcing him to pump inside me.

“Ahhhh,
fuck
. I don’t normally take orders, Bailey.” A low growl rumbled in his chest but he let me take control as he buried his face in my breasts, jerking the tight fabric down just enough to take one of my nipples in his mouth.

“You do now,” I moaned as he lightly bit it before rolling his tongue along the tip. Pleasure shot through me, streaking from my nipples to where he was buried deep inside me. “God, yes.”

He thrust harder every time a word slipped out of my mouth, and when he nipped at me again, all the muscles in my body clenched, tightening with need for another release.

“Come with me, Gage,” I begged. I wanted him to,
needed
him to let go with me completely. I needed him to be mine without a doubt, if only just in this moment.

He grew even harder inside me, the friction creating the most delicious flames that licked every inch of my body, inside and out. I gripped him with my thighs, securing him as close to me as humanly possible.

“Fuck. Bailey,” he sighed my name as I came around him, all the heat in my body soaring as I felt him release inside me.

He sighed, his body slightly trembling before he dropped his against my chest. We laid there on the kitchen island, silent except for our heaved breaths.

I tangled my fingers in his hair, combing through it as we both came down from the incredible high he’d taken us to. I didn’t know if it was the costume, the empty house, or the tension that had built between us since I moved in, but I thanked whatever happened inside his head for him to finally lift the restraints on
us
. And now that I knew what I’d been missing, I didn’t want to go back to the way things had been before.

The realization that I’d slept with Gage McPherson—my best friend, the father of a little girl I loved, and my boss—sent waves of warmth cascading through me. We’d been perfect together.

And it was then, with him on top of me, in the kitchen where I made him and his daughter breakfast every morning, that I
knew
.

I no longer was falling.

I’d fallen.

Now the question remained, would I become just another bunny of his? Or would he finally trust me enough to let me claim him for myself?