Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 41725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 209(@200wpm)___ 167(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 209(@200wpm)___ 167(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)
When I got to the waistband of his pajama pants, I slowed down to tease him. I wanted him desperate and begging, writhing with need the way I felt every time he touched me.
“What…” He sucked in a breath as my tongue ran a lazy path down his happy trail. “What are you doing?”
I smiled against his skin but didn’t answer. Grant’s fingers threaded into my hair. “Fucking Christ, that… that’s amazing.” The groan he let out went straight to my dick, and my mouth filled with saliva.
I wasn’t sure which of us I’d been teasing most.
I pulled down the waistband and inhaled before sucking the tip of his cock into my mouth and swirling my tongue around it. When he’d started sucking me off earlier, I’d lost my mind. I wanted to give him that same feeling. I wanted him to lose himself.
In me.
The noises he made as I licked and sucked and stroked him sent me right to the edge of my own release as well. My mind was a vat of colorful static as I raced toward both of our completions.
“Brody, baby, fuck,” he cried, thrusting into my mouth and tightening his fingers in my hair. As soon as the warm tang of his orgasm hit the back of my throat, I shoved my hand into my own pants and stroked myself once, twice, and then I was coming.
The colorful static burst into shooting stars as the muscles in my body contracted deliciously and then relaxed. The sound of my ragged breathing filled the room as I rolled off him onto my back on the bed.
When Grant reached over to twist his fingers in mine, I felt the hard, cool metal of his wedding ring. My stomach flipped a little, and my cock gave a final twitch.
Grant Brighton was mine, for better or for worse.
“Another shower?” he asked with an eyebrow wiggle that made my breath hitch. “Then sleep. Before long, it’ll be morning, and one of three demanding young women will be waking us up.”
I grinned. So far, marriage to Grant was all for the better, I decided as I let him lead me back to the shower. Entirely, wonderfully better.
But when morning came, the demanding woman who woke us was not one of our girls… and things took a decided turn for the worse.
9
GRANT
“What the hell is going on here?”
The angry voice startled me out of a deep slumber, and I cracked my eyes open, squinting against the sunlight streaming through the window.
My first thought was that waking with Brody Kelly’s warm body entwined with mine, his tousled hair fanned out on my pillow, and his adorably sleepy green eyes blinking up at me was one of the highlights of my life, and I wanted to remember that moment forever.
In the next second, my brain processed the familiar voice, and I looked past Brody to the irate woman who’d invaded our bedroom and was currently glaring at us from the doorway.
“Liza?” I croaked. My brain scrambled to put pieces of two seemingly disparate puzzles together.
They didn’t fit.
“You can’t be serious,” she said, moving closer to the bed and peering at Brody like he was a specimen. “The babysitter, Grant?”
I instinctively yanked the duvet up to Brody’s shoulders to shield him from her. He tried to pull away, but I tightened my arm around him to hold him exactly where he was—with me.
“Liza, I don’t know what you’re doing here, but get out of my bedroom. Now.”
“You’ve lost your mind.” She addressed her words to me, but her eyes didn’t stray from Brody, and as he stared up at her, I felt him begin to shake.
“I’m sorry, I…” he began in a small voice that twisted my gut. Brody had nothing to apologize for. Not one damn thing.
I pushed up on one elbow so I was leaning over him, suddenly entirely awake—and angry as hell. “You’re not listening. Get the fuck out of my room, Liza,” I reiterated in a low voice so the girls wouldn’t hear through the open door. “Right the fuck now.”
She peered over me at Brody. “What the heck were you thinking. He looks about twelve years old—”
I leaped over Brody and lunged out of the bed in only my pajama pants, crowding Liza back toward the door and out to the hallway. As soon as she crossed the threshold, I closed the door behind her and locked it.
“We are not done talking about this, Grant!” she yelled through the door. “I’ll be waiting for you downstairs.”
My forehead hit the cool wood of the door as I exhaled.
Fuck.
What the hell was Liza doing here? I had expected her to hear about my marriage from one of the girls—that was how I’d heard about her wedding to Elias a few years back, after all—but I hadn’t anticipated that it would lead to an impromptu visit, let alone to her demanding explanations for things that were none of her damn business. She knew the girls adored Brody, she knew I trusted him, and she’d never had an issue with him being in their lives before, so her outrage wasn’t about Brody himself; it had to be about me.