“You seriously have the balls to be mad at me right now after that show you just put on?” Grey’s voice held that same calm patience it always did which made me even madder.
“Fuck you, Grey,” I said between tight teeth.
He barked out a humorless laugh. “You sure you don’t mean ‘fuck Cate’? Because the two of you looked pretty happy out there.”
I glanced up at him. “Me? Are you fucking kidding? You practically let that fucker hump your leg!”
“Get your things. We’re going back to the house,” he growled.
“You’re not the boss of me, asshole. You don’t get to—”
Grey slammed his hand over my mouth and leaned his face into mine. His voice was so low and commanding, I felt it in my balls. “There are people listening. Get your ass in that little tennis house right this fucking minute.”
I stormed into the tennis building and spun to give him a piece of my mind. As soon as he entered, he closed the door and flipped the lock.
“There’s no one out there,” I snapped. “Everyone went back to the house.”
“You’re wrong. Jake was deliberately lingering on the path to hear us fight, and you were giving him exactly what he wanted. You let him bait you like a damned child. Anyone with eyes could have seen what he was doing, so why didn’t you see it?”
His voice got louder as he spoke until he was shouting at me.
“If you knew he was baiting me, why did you go along with it?” I countered. It was cooler in the shade of the house, and the sweat on my skin suddenly chilled enough to make me shiver.
“Because I was trying to figure out what you were actually reacting to,” he admitted. “And why it was making you angry.”
“I was angry because you were flirting with the same man you told me to stay away from! Apparently what’s good for the gander isn’t good for the other gander.”
Grey’s jaw tightened. “I didn’t realize you wanted him.”
“I didn’t,” I shouted. “I don’t! Not one single bit. I didn’t want… I didn’t want…” After realizing what I was going to say next, I stopped myself.
“You didn’t want what?”
“Never mind. None of your fucking business. Let’s just go.” I wanted to get out of here, go back to the house where polite manners were the norm and I could remind myself none of this mattered.
Grey crossed his arms in front of his chest, which of course emphasized his biceps and muscular shoulders. “We’re not leaving until you tell me.”
“I didn’t want you to want him either,” I admitted. “There. You happy now? You can go crow about my actual jealousy to your little redheaded fr—gnfh!”
Grey’s mouth crashed into mine as he lunged forward. His hands grabbed the sides of my face, and within seconds, his body had crowded mine up against the clapboard wall behind me.
Grey’s kiss was rabid, all energy and teeth and claws. I scrambled to grab hold of him to keep from falling over from the sheer loss of blood to my brain. I was light-headed and desperate, a combination that left me feeling jacked up and melty all at once.
The scent of our sweat, of sunshine and fresh air, filled the space around us, and the only sound was stuttered breathing and the light smacking and sucking sounds coming from our frenzied kisses.
“Please,” I managed to croak. “Please, Grey. Please.” It was the only word I could get out, but it said everything I needed to say.
“You’d rather be here with Cate,” he bit out against my jaw.
“No.”
“You’d rather be here with Jake,” he said before nipping my chin.
“No, god. No.”
“Tell me, then.” Grey’s dick pressed hard into my lower belly. “Tell me or it stops.”
“You,” I breathed. “You. Always you. Only you. You. Please. You.”
His hands were everywhere. My shirt hit the floor before I realized he’d yanked it off, my shorts were yanked halfway down my legs, pulling my hard dick with them until it slapped back up against my stomach. I groaned and reached for it, but Grey’s growl stopped me.
“Mine.”
I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the wall, trying my hardest to slow down so I didn’t nut on the floor before he even touched me. So when the warm wet cavern of his mouth encased my dick, I squeaked and blinked in surprise. “Oh fuck. Oh fuck yes. Please.”
He was on his knees, looking up at me with an angry expression. “Close your eyes. You don’t get to look at me.”
“Why?” It came out as a whine. I would have paid every cent I had to watch him suck me off.
“Do it or I stop.”
There was no time or brainpower to wonder why. I closed my eyes and leaned back, focusing on the intense feeling of his mouth on me. His big hands roamed over my thighs and up my stomach to my chest as his tongue swirled around my cock.
“Oh fuck.” I didn’t have better words than that. This was heaven, and in heaven, my vocabulary took a hike. I wanted to thrust into his mouth, but I didn’t dare. When one of his hands moved down to cup my sac, I sucked in a breath and prayed for more. More touching, more sucking, more any kind of sexual interaction with the hottest human I knew.
“You smell so fucking good,” he mumbled. “Taste even better.”
I made mewling and begging sounds, the kind of thing I would have been embarrassed about if I had the capacity to think clearly.
I didn’t.
“Thank you,” I said, trying to remember my manners. I didn’t want him to stop. I was terrified something I did or said, or failed to do or say, would make him stop, make him regret me. “Thank you so much oh god, fuck. God.”
“Come in my mouth,” he grunted between sucks.
I opened my eyes in surprise. The view I saw was all it took to make me come. He was debauched. His face was red, and his damp hair was sticking up everywhere because apparently my hand was in it, even though I hadn’t even realized I was holding his head. Grey’s eyes were glassy, and his lips were stretched and wet.
“Fuck,” I shouted, throwing my head back again and coming hard. Grey kept his mouth on me until I had to pull away to keep my sanity.
I slid down the wall until I landed my bare ass on the cold stone floor. “Fuck,” I said again.
Grey stood back up and loomed over me, reaching into his shorts and pulling out a giant dick. Here was my chance.
I’d owed him a blow job for fifteen years. For fifteen years, I’d fantasized about finally being able to pay him back.
I reached for him, but he didn’t let me. He stroked his dick fast just above my face. I looked past it to meet his eyes. They carried heat and intensity that made my chest tighten.
“Come on my face,” I whispered without looking away. Even if he wouldn’t let me suck him, I needed him to know I was willing to do anything for his pleasure. “Come all over me.”
He roared and came a couple of strokes later. Some of his release landed on my cheek, but he caught most of it in his fist.
When he was done, he pulled his shorts back up, found a tennis towel on the nearby counter, and cleaned off his hand before squatting down and carefully wiping my face off. I watched him, wondering what he was going to say, whether he was going to kiss me, confide in me, ask me about my feelings.