Wound Up (4 page)

She reached for her purse. “Do you want me to pitch in half?”

“Hell, no. Just be here when I get back and we’ll call it even.”

“Justin?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to head in and wander around.”

“Why?”

Her grin was pure sex. “So you can find me.”

His mouth went drier than if he’d filled it with Pixy Stix candy. Nodding, he pushed off the car and jogged into the lobby only to end up waiting in line behind a pissy traveler. Nothing about the guy’s requests was possible, and Justin grew more and more agitated as he waited. She walked past him and his gaze locked on her.

Calm just wasn’t in his repertoire at this point. He had to get this first rush of Grace out of his system. Then he could slow down and enjoy the night. Until then, he was going to burn for the woman who was at this very moment peeling an orange from the breakfast area and waiting on the elevator to go who-knew-where.

Something about that challenge, to hunt her down, claim her as his prize, made him want to shove the stranger in front of him aside and demand the first available room with a king-size bed.

When the guy in front of him finally stormed off, Justin stepped up to the counter and pulled his wallet out. “I need a room for two, king bed.”

The sleepy-eyed clerk didn’t even glance up from the computer. “Smoking or nonsmoking?”

“Non.”

“Floor preference.”

“First available.”

“Front or rear of the building.”

“Look,” Justin said, leaning over the counter. “Give me a room with a king-size bed that’s clean and has room-darkening drapes in this zip code and I’m cool. Just get me the key before I rupture a nut, feel me?”

A lazy smile spread across the guy’s face. “Saw you two come in. She’s hot as hell.”

“Then have a little sympathy, man. A key.”

“Cash or credit?”

“Cash plus a tip if you’ll just give me the damn key,” Justin all but snarled.

A couple of taps of the keyboard and the clerk produced two key cards.

Justin paid him in ones and fives, not thinking about it until the guy arched a brow.

“You pick her up at a strip club?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool. Where does she work?”

“Man, she’s not the stripper.
I am.
” He scooped up his wallet and glared at the guy. “Good night.”

“Not as good as yours is gonna be,” the guy muttered, shifting to stare at the computer again.

Justin didn’t comment, didn’t spare the guy another look. He went straight to the car and parked it near the first exterior entrance. The room number put them on the fourth floor. He’d start on the second floor and sweep every hallway until he found her. And when he did? He was passing Go and collecting his two hundred dollars.

Immediately.

* * *

G
RACE
WANDERED
ALONG
the third-floor hallway, slipping into every vending nook and laundry cranny as she waited for Justin. No telling what was taking so long. The thought that he’d changed his mind and bailed on her flitted through her mind before she dismissed it. He wasn’t the type to go back on his word. She knew that much about him.

A stairwell door closed heavily behind her.

Strong hands spun her around and yanked her into a hard body before she had a chance to react. “You don’t hide very well, Ms. Cooper.”

Her breath hitched. “Maybe I wanted to be found, Dr. Maxwell.”

“Did you now?” he murmured.

“I bit my lip when you pulled me around.” His mouth was so close to hers their lips brushed, featherlight, as she spoke.

“I apologize.”

“Don’t.” Her pulse thundered. “Kiss it and make it better.”

Tipping her chin up, he closed the distance between them. Their lips slid together like two puzzle pieces clicking into place, solid and secure. Tongues touched, tentative before growing bolder. Hands roamed, slow but desperate. And in no time at all, she was lost to the moment.

He treated her like a sensual feast, caressing her face, her neck, the upper swells of her breasts. His short breaths skated over her skin. When he slipped a hand under her shirt and found one nipple, she gasped his name and let her head fall against the wall he pinned her to.

Those magic fingers disappeared seconds before he pulled her close with one hand and cupped the nape of her neck with the other to direct the kiss.

Hunger.
He made her hunger for him. Deprived of such sensual sensation for so long, she couldn’t do anything more than follow his lead in the moment. She knew she needed to get her feet underneath her, regain control, and she would. Grace might be a lot of things, but out of control wasn’t one of them.

As if he’d heard her, he broke the kiss. He stared down at her, his blue eyes darkened with lust, the pupils dilated. “C’mon.”

Justin ushered her into the dimly lit stairwell and jogged up the stairs, hauling her along. He emerged on the fourth floor, went to room 420 and, with a shaking hand, inserted the key card. The electronic lock clicked open and he pulled her into the dark room, this time letting the door shut quietly behind them. The moment they were inside, he had her pressed into the corner and slipped his hands up under her shirt to unhook her bra with deft fingers. When the clasp released, he moved to cup one bare breast. The nipple, beaded before he reached it, hardened even more as he pinched and tugged the tender flesh.

Grace slid her hands under his coat, around his waist and up his shirt. Skin to skin. Heat to heat. She reveled in his shudder when she raked her fingernails down his spine, grew empowered by his increasingly frenzied actions. Never in all her life had she felt so raw. When he bent, wrapped his arms around her waist and hoisted her against the wall, her legs automatically wrapped around him and her hips thrust forward.

Justin settled the seam of her sex against the hard ridge of his erection and ground into her.

She gasped and arched her back, exposing her throat.

A primal growl built in his chest. He pressed his lips to her neck, alternately licking and nipping her jugular.

Grace wound her arms around his neck and rode his cock with growing urgency. Soft mewls filled the cool air, and it took her a moment to realize the sounds were hers.

He lifted her off of him and, despite her protests, spun her to face the wall. The button on her jeans made a soft
pop
when he yanked it free. Zipper teeth chattered their way down. He shoved her pants to her ankles. “Step out.”

She did and, spreading her legs, arched into him. Her body came alive under his touch. Breasts heavy and core aching, she wanted him inside her. She craved him, needed him to stretch her and fill her and take her over the edge again and again.

The sound of a zipper was followed immediately by crinkling foil. Seconds later, the weighted heat of his cock settled against her ass even as unseen fingers slid over her hips and down.

“Sweet hell,” he whispered into her ear as he worked his way into her folds. “You’re so damn wet, baby.”

“Please.”

“I thought you wanted me to be the one to beg,” he teased, tracing his tongue along the shell of her ear.

A desperate, choked laugh escaped her as she slapped her hands on the walls. “No more playing. Finish me, Justin.
Please.
”

Her slick arousal coated his fingers as he dragged them forward to the small, firm knot of her clitoris. Several short, swift flicks and she came apart in his arms.

Her hips bucked wildly, her breath came hard. Her eyelids slid closed. A deep keening escaped her. She shuddered, pulling a hand off the wall to clutch his and hold him closer as she rode out the crest of adrenaline and raw lust pounding through her veins, thick and viral. He scraped his teeth along the nape of her neck, sending her careening over the edge into a second brutally hard orgasm.

Nothing made sense for several minutes—not the thundering of her heart, not the sound of blood rushing through her ears, not the way her legs had gone to rubber. She was lost in space and time, nothing more than a product of her various pieces.

She was full and heavy, yet vacant, wanting.

She wanted him buried inside her, wanted him to drive her to abandon, wanted him to use her body well.

The images those thoughts conjured took her even higher, as did the knowledge it would all come to pass. She wouldn’t have to fantasize about Justin Maxwell in the dark. Not tonight. Tonight the man was manifest, the fantasy a reality—and the reality was superseding anything her mind had dreamed up, whether in the light of day or the darkest reaches of night.

He calmed her, soothing her with words and fingertips and firm lips on sweaty skin. “That’s one and two. Now turn around.”

Her legs refused to cooperate. Hot hands closed on her bare hips and spun her, pressing her bare ass against the cold wall. “Justin,” she said on a breath.

“Hold on, baby.” His words were strained, heavy, full of his own sensual need. Grabbing her behind the thighs, he lifted her and pinned her to the wall with his weight.

The heat of his arousal branded her, left her gasping as she reached for him.

“Arms around my neck.”

She complied.

He lifted her higher, tilting her hips to receive him.

The broad head of his cock breached her outer folds and she whimpered. “More, damn it!”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Do it,” she pleaded.

With one hard thrust, he seated himself to the hilt. His mouth crushed hers, swallowing her shout.

She’d known he was large, but being impaled by him was a whole different thing. Stretched farther than she would have guessed possible, pain and pleasure hovered together, shining bright and dark on ecstasy’s horizon. Then he began to move with slow thrusts. Aching, heavy heat burned in her pelvis. Using his neck as a fulcrum, she pulled herself forward and nipped his ear. “Harder.”

His groan vibrated through his chest and into hers.

She shivered.

Fingers dug into her hips. “Hold on, sweetheart.”

He pistoned in and out of her with sheer strength, using his hands to draw her off his shaft before driving home over and over.

Sweat slicked her hold on him as she tried to pull herself onto him even harder. “Please,” she said on a moan. “I need...I need...”

His hand slipped between them and, as she rode him, found her clit. First contact nearly threw her off his length when she jerked, but he tightened his grip on her hip and set up a rapid thrumming in time with his thrusts.

In seconds, Grace felt the release roaring toward her. “Don’t stop!”

“I’m with you, baby,” he said on heavy breaths.

The spasm of orgasm started in her pelvis and spread. Then she came apart in his arms. Head thrown back, she took everything he had to give. Sensation overrode the last of her common sense and unintelligible sounds rose from her throat.

He sank his teeth into the soft spot between her shoulder and neck, and she reveled in the raw, animalistic behavior. Justin’s entire body tensed and he groaned loudly as his thrusts became erratic. The pulse of his orgasm rolled through her. She reveled in the power of it, the power she wielded to make this beautiful man lose his control here, now.

The breath sawed in and out of her lungs even as her muscles went limp.

He pulled her free and let her slide down the wall until her feet hit the floor.

When her knees buckled, he caught her with his whole body, pressing her into the wall.

“Sorry,” he murmured into her hair.

“You’re apologizing?” Her gasp was lost to laughter.

“For mashing you against the wall. Nothing seems to be working right at the moment.”

Fighting to regain her footing, she stood and wrapped her arms around him. His jacket smelled faintly of his cologne, and she took a moment to close her eyes and bury her face in that scent before sweeping up her pants.

“Drop the jeans, Ms. Cooper. I’m far from done with you. Far, far from done.”

Grace’s belly fluttered in anticipation. Sliding her arms around his waist, she gave in to the urge to snuggle in closer.

He held her tight, whispering against the crown of her head his intent to give her pleasure until the sun rose.

The raw power he wielded over her pushed her closer to the edge of falling for Justin Maxwell—far closer than was safe. But there was time enough to distance herself. Tomorrow she’d let him down easy. Tomorrow...

4

H
IS
ASS
AND
ONE
FOOT
were cold. That was the first thought that went through Justin’s sleep-addled mind before the click of the room’s air conditioner further invaded his consciousness.
Air-conditioning is clicking instead of whining?
That meant he wasn’t at home. One eye squinted open, fighting to focus on the alarm clock’s huge red numbers—a few minutes after eight in the morning.

The mattress moved as his bed partner rolled over and stole more covers. He grunted softly as he pushed up to his elbows and turned to look at the tangle of curls spread across the pillow. In the dim light, her hair appeared dark. He knew that wasn’t true. Grace’s hair was actually almost brown until she stepped into the sun. Then it blazed like flame. A truer, deeper red than he’d ever seen anywhere else.

She was stretched out on her side of the king bed, her face sporting wrinkles from the pillowcase. Eyes acclimated to the dim light, he tucked a strand of her hair behind one ear and simply watched her. She was beautiful. Those cat-green eyes had expressed passion, reverence, humor and longing as they’d taken each other every way they could. Then, somewhere near six this morning, they’d fallen asleep tangled together.

He’d never had a night even similar to last night. Considering the remarkable quality of the woman at his side, he wondered if he’d ever have another. He had a real connection with Grace, something that transcended the physical. He didn’t want to lose that, but he wasn’t sure how to keep it, either.

No doubt they’d be going in different directions now that they’d both graduated. His focus was public service and hers was...what? She hadn’t said. The money was in private practice. But even if that’s what she pursued, it didn’t necessarily mean she had to leave Seattle. She could find something here or at least nearby, and they could really see where this thing went.

Yes, he’d agreed last night was a one-time thing. And she’d made it abundantly clear she didn’t expect anything more. But making more of this thing between them was the only way he could guarantee she didn’t disappear. He’d spent years watching her, had finally found his way to her through dumb luck, and damn if he was willing to let her walk away because of the universe’s poor timing.

He dragged a hand down his face and took a deep breath. They had cheered adulthood last night. Today it seemed more burden than boon.

“What’s with the somber look?” Her voice, husky from sleep, made his breath catch.

“Just thinking.”

“No thinking before coffee.” She rolled closer to him and snuggled into his chest, slipping an arm around his waist. “It’s a cosmic rule.”

He stroked a hand down her hair. “Cover hogs don’t get to make rules.”

“I’m not a cover hog. I only took what I needed.”

“That apparently equals everything.”

She sniffed. “A girl has to have her standards.” Her lips curled against his bare skin.

“Good to know.” Rolling over, he pulled her with him so she draped across his upper body. He was aware that he was holding her a little too tight, but he couldn’t seem to let go.

“Justin?”

“No, no. It’s fine. My most important body parts were only at risk of frostbite for a short while. They’ll be fine.”

She chuckled and propped herself up to meet his gaze. “If I wasn’t sure it would lead to the crossroads of Wicked Lane and Wanton Drive, I’d offer to warm your most important body parts up.”

His cock swelled. “Yeah?” He shifted against her hip. “I could get behind that.”

She snorted. “You did.”

The ribald reference to their lovemaking made him laugh. “You’re a vixen, woman. A true vixen.”

“Yeah.
Sports Illustrated
keeps calling for a cover shoot, but I’m just too busy being a bookworm. It’s so much sexier.”

“On you? Hell, yes, it is.” Leaning in, he took her mouth in a swift kiss. “Your mind is definitely sexy. I loved watching you latch on to a concept or theory in class. Your brows would draw down and you’d get this look, as if you were so deep in your own thoughts you had no idea what was going on around you. I never knew what you’d say, whether you’d agree with me or disagree and defend your position so well I’d have to agree with
you
. I knew I’d never have to worry you’d play me false.” He traced a finger down her neck and between her breasts, circling the lower side of one and watching the nipple pucker. “And for the record? Your body isn’t half-bad, either.” He dragged his gaze first to her mouth and then to her eyes. “Last night was awesome, Grace.”

She shivered. “I was sitting here trying to come up with the smoothest way to say the same thing. But I can work with
awesome
.”

Justin reached for a condom before he rolled over, blood flooding to his groin. “I’m headed down Wicked Lane. You take Wanton Drive. We’ll meet at the crossroads.”

Her lazy smile made his testicles draw up tight. “Wanton works for me.”

He slid into her slowly, pausing when she winced. “Okay?”

“Just a little sore. That was a lot of mattress gymnastics for a girl who’s gone more than two years between meets.”

Cupping her face, he kissed her slowly before asking, “How long has it been?”

She closed her eyes, refusing to meet his gaze.

“Grace?”

“My master’s program.”

“You haven’t been to bed with anyone in—”

“Twenty-seven months, Justin.” She finally looked at him, her eyes hauntingly beautiful. “So, yeah. I’m a little sore.” She slowly lifted her hips, drawing him in. “Doesn’t mean I want you to stop.”

So he didn’t.

* * *

S
TEPPING
OUT
OF
the shower an hour later, he heard his cell phone ringing. “Ignore it,” he called out.

“I did.”

He grinned and shook his head. Being with her was so easy, so comfortable. Part of him wanted to revel at how easy it was to like her as much as he did. Another part wanted to simply gather up his belongings and leave, ensure nothing could come of the spark harbored in his heart. The longer they were together, the more that spark was coaxed to burn. It scared him more than a little.

This time in his life was supposed to be about finding his professional footing, making a contribution to the Second Chances
program and beginning to carve out respect from his peers. None of that included a woman, particularly a woman whose immediate future didn’t align with his own.

He’d worked so hard to become the man he was now, not the kid in the too-small clothes, the one always looking to make money any way he had to in order to put food on the table. When his focus had shifted, when he’d begun to think in broader terms than street smarts and day-to-day survival, he’d found his purpose. God knew he hadn’t been abstinent in the years that followed. He was no choirboy. But at the same time, a woman hadn’t figured into his long-term plans.

And yet, he was fiercely attracted to Grace. She hadn’t quite closed the door on a repeat of last night. Maybe he could see her again before they ultimately went their separate ways. And if their next time had to be their last time, he’d do his best to snuff out this burning desire he harbored for her,
had
harbored for her for the past three years.

Hands on the counter, he locked his elbows and leaned forward, head hanging loosely. He wanted Grace. Badly. Craved her, even. But the reality of their situation didn’t change for his wanting her. She had a life to start and so did he. Their paths probably wouldn’t cross again. His only chance was to press her for just a bit more of her now, while it was an option.

He finished brushing his teeth and stepped into the room, hand on the towel, and froze. Grace had opened the curtains just enough to peer out. Sunlight bathed her in a nimbus of brilliant gold, outlining every curve on her luscious, bare body.

Shifting, she offered him a partial profile and a wide smile. “Sun’s out today.”

“Good.” The word was little more than a croak.

Her brows drew together. “Hey. Are you okay?” She started toward him and stopped when he backed up.

Justin couldn’t think of anything beyond the woman. Heart racing and palms sweating, he shook his head. “I’m fine.”

“You seem a little shaky.”

“I
am
a little shaky.”

“Low blood sugar?”

“Yeah.” Easy answer. A lie, which didn’t sit well with him, but he didn’t correct himself, didn’t offer the truth.

How could he even be
thinking
of getting emotionally involved? She’d said she wasn’t staying in Seattle long, but even if she was only here for another couple of weeks, they could see each other again He wanted to find out what might be between them, given time and a little nurturing, a little emotional excavation. “So...what’s your next step, Grace?”

“What do you mean?”

“In life. You’ve graduated. What now?”

“You’re standing there in a towel, I’m naked, and you want to talk career planning?” Her laughter rang out in the bedroom. “You’re in a strange mood, Dr. Maxwell.”

A twinge in his chest had him rubbing his left pec. “Admittedly strange.”

“Okay, then. I have an eighty-hour job-shadowing practicum I have to complete. The college let me walk with my class at graduation, but I still have to get a passing grade on the practicum before I can implement my nefarious psychological practices on unsuspecting victims.” She raised her arms, let her head fall back and loosed an evil cackle before bursting into laughter again. Dropping her arms, she shrugged. “So eighty hours of blah, blah, blah before I officially become a psychologist.”

His chest tightened around the twinge. “Yeah? Are you staying local?”

She nodded. “Personal issues regarding my housing situation meant I had to stay close by.”

“Want to have lunch, then, say, Wednesday? We can meet somewhere midpoint for both of us.” Postcoital meal arrangements might be backward, but it would assuage the guilt needling him for the screw-and-run he’d momentarily considered. This? This he could live with. Barely.

He’d take it.

A faint blush stole across her cheeks. “Lunch? That’d be great.” The words were right, but the hesitation in them wasn’t.

“Are you allergic to lunch?” he asked as casually as he could.

“No.” She rubbed her throat, her free arm wrapping around her torso. “It’s just...you remember I’m leaving right?”

“It’s not a marriage proposal, Grace. It’s just lunch.”

She smiled up at him. “Okay, then. Downtown area would be easiest for me.”

He exhaled slowly. “Excellent.” They weren’t through with each other.

Not by a long shot.

* * *

G
RACE
WATCHED
J
USTIN
’
S
shoulders sag and couldn’t be sure if it was relief or disappointment. The former buoyed her while the latter stung like hell.

It shouldn’t matter. She just had to get through the next two weeks and then she was following Meg to Baltimore where she’d try to find a job. It was as far as Grace could conceivably get from Seattle, her past and her mother.

Still, watching Justin’s reaction was very much like holding on to a life vest in twenty-foot seas. A second to catch your breath before getting driven under again.

He squared his shoulders and crossed the room. “How about Tuesday? I don’t want to wait until Wednesday.” Cupping her face, he leaned in. “Say yes.” The smell of minty toothpaste on his breath combined with the scent of the hotel’s soap and shampoo on his skin to form a clean smell she knew she’d never forget.

“Yes.”

“And dinner with me Wednesday.”

“Yes.” The answer was out of her mouth before she truly considered the implications.

“Good.” He closed the distance and kissed her, lips soft yet firm as he laid claim to her mouth, owning the moment, owning her, in a way that disconcerted her. No one had ever made the effort to get to know her, to see her, to invest in her. Then Justin happened.

It was only supposed to have been one night. Not a date. No expectations. Nothing more. But he’d been so sincere in his interest, so transparent in his desire for her. What woman wouldn’t want to enjoy that for just a bit longer?

He’d caused her to reconsider everything she’d thought would be true today. And she wasn’t sure how to revise her expectations because he’d left them open-ended. Living with a “maybe” where Justin was concerned was dangerous. She needed concretes, absolutes, not maybes and what-ifs. She could manage this...this...
fling
if she kept it in perspective. Because while his invitations certainly changed the rules they’d established, the outcome was pre-determined and non-negotiable.

She wouldn’t allow him to derail her goals, professional or personal, no matter how long she’d wanted just what he offered right now. She’d worked too hard, made too many sacrifices to let it fall apart now because of a man...no matter how much she might want said man. With autonomy would come more opportunity, but as long as she was in Seattle? She’d always be Cindy Cooper’s daughter, the runt who couldn’t get out of the woman’s way fast enough. Grace refused to live in that emotionally putrid place anymore.

She wouldn’t allow one night with Justin to potentially change everything she thought about her career, her future, her
self
.

Feeling her stiffen in his embrace, he broke the kiss and, still cradling her jaw in those large, capable hands, rested his forehead against hers. “Stop overthinking things.”

“Stop reading my face.”

“Stop projecting every thought you’re having.”

She rolled her forehead back and forth against his.

“Seriously, Grace. Stop borrowing tomorrow’s trouble. Today has plenty of its own.”

“Stop sounding like a fortune cookie.” She paused and rolled her eyes up to meet his stare. “Unless you’ve got the winning lottery numbers printed on your body. Then, by all means, proceed.”

He grinned, the tiny crow’s feet at the corner of his eyes apparent this close. “You can check it out if you want.”