Best Man for Hire (Entangled Lovestruck) (Front and Center) (9 page)

“Tell me what you want,” she whispered.

Grant shifted his weight on the log, trying to ease the pressure of the hard-on straining against his fly. “You know what I want.”

“Duh,” she said, and somehow it was the single sexiest syllable he’d ever heard in his life. “The point is that I want to hear you say it.”

“Anna, please—”

She laughed and wrapped her lips around his fingertip, sliding her tongue around the length of the digit as she sucked him in again. The suction and the pressure and the warmth and the wetness was making him lose his mind.

“Anna, please—” He groaned again.

“Anna, please
what
?” she murmured, releasing his finger but not his wrist. “Say it, Grant. Come on. It does you no good to be the perfect, polite Boy Scout all the time. Tell me what you want me to do.”

Her gaze locked on his, a challenge. Part of him wanted to get up and run from her, from this sensation, from the urge that told him to scrap all his gentlemanly inclinations and just order her down on her knees.

Most of him really liked the sound of that last bit.

He hesitated, then took a steadying breath.

“Suck my cock,” he said. “Please,” he added as an afterthought.

A slow grin spread across her face. “Well, since you’re polite about it.” She grinned wider. “Say it one more time.
Please
.”

That last word sounded more like a taunt than a pleasantry coming from those perfect, pink lips. But since he urgently wanted those perfect, pink lips wrapped around his shaft, he said it again.

“Suck me off, Anna. I want you and that perfect fucking mouth.”

His voice was more forceful this time, and he watched her eyes flash with excitement. She licked her lips, and Grant felt his head begin to spin.

“My pleasure.” She slid off the log and started to drop to her knees. “Or yours.”

“Wait.”

He caught her by the arm with one hand and reached for his camera bag with the other. He yanked open the zipper and pulled out a small orange hand towel he kept there in case of unexpected downpours.

Or unexpected blowjobs. Whatever.

He spread it on the ground in front of him, kicking a small pebble out of the way. Anna laughed and dropped to her knees on the towel. “Always the gentleman.”

She reached for his fly, and there was nothing gentlemanly about the way his cock surged against the front of his shorts. Anna slid her hand over his hard-on, stroking him through the fabric. She leaned forward and pressed her mouth to his fly, breathing hot breath through the twill until Grant heard himself groan.

“My, my, my,” she murmured, sitting back on her heels as she stroked him through the fly of his shorts. “That’s an impressive bulge you have there. Seems like it’s just screaming to get out.”

“Then do it.” His words were more a growl than an actual sentence, and he couldn’t believe the sound had come from him.

Anna grinned and gripped him harder. “Do what?”

“Take out my cock.”

Her eyes flashed with desire again, and he wanted to flip her around and yank up her dress to have his way with her.

But Anna had other plans, and good manners dictated he should let her see those through.

“Take out your cock and do what?” she purred.

“Suck me. Hard. Please.”

She laughed again and squeezed his balls through his shorts, making him ache with pleasure. Her nimble fingers undid the button at the top of his shorts, then dragged down the zipper with agonizing slowness. She wriggled her fingers through the fly of his boxer briefs. The instant her hand clenched around him, Grant felt all the air leave his body.

“Jesus,” he hissed. “Yes.”

Anna pulled his cock out through the fly, shoving the fabric back to expose him. The distant voices of the bridal party had vanished, and Grant hoped that was a good thing. At this point, he honest to God didn’t care if the whole goddamn family showed up to take video.

Her mouth closed around the head of his erection, and Grant closed his eyes and moaned. She moved her tongue down the length of him, sucking him hard against the roof of her mouth. He’d never felt anything so warm and soft in his entire life, and he thought he might die from pleasure.

“Christ, Anna. That feels so fucking good.”

Her eyes were closed, but he thought he saw the edges of her mouth curve into a smile. It was hard to tell with her hair falling in her eyes, all those luscious red-gold strands drifting across her flushed cheeks.

Grant reached down and threaded his fingers through her hair, pushing it back so he could see her beautiful face. She sucked him in deeper, and Grant felt his palms clench snug against her scalp. His fingers tangled tight in her hair, and he could feel the delicious rhythm of her head moving in his lap. She moaned and flicked her tongue over his shaft, opening her eyes to grin up at him.

“That’s what I thought,” she murmured, her breath hot on his thigh. “Beneath that Boy Scout facade, you’re a filthy-talking, hair-pulling animal.”

Grant blinked and started to unwind his fingers from her hair. But Anna reached up and grabbed his wrist, holding it in place. She turned her head to the side and bit his inner thigh. Hard.

“I like this side of you, Grant.” She grinned up at him, her eyes sparking with fire. “The dark side. The side not everyone gets to see.”

“I—”

“Show me the rest,” she said and wrapped her lips around his cock again.

“Anna.” He gasped, closing his eyes as she drew him into her mouth. “Your mouth is fucking magic. You make me so goddamn hard.”

“Mmmm,” she moaned against him, and the vibration damn near killed him. His brain was starting to buzz, and there was no blood left in his hands. Whether it was the tightness of her hair around his fingers or the tightness of her mouth around his shaft, he had no idea. He didn’t care.

“Anna, you should stop.”

“Mm-mm,” she murmured around him, a moan or a refusal?

“Anna, I’m going to—”

His voice broke there, whether from the pressure of her tongue on his cock or a reluctance to say the words, he wasn’t sure. She was sliding faster now, so hot and wet and tight and—

“Anna, Christ, you’re going to make me come.”

She dug her nails into his thighs, anchoring him there so that even if he wanted to pull back, he couldn’t. Grant heard a strangled cry he realized was his own voice.

Sparks exploded in his brain and then from his fingertips and toes and every exposed inch of skin. He closed his eyes and gasped again as he surged and throbbed and pulsed hard and hot in her mouth.

When it was all over, Anna drew back and grinned at him. “That was fucking fantastic.”

Grant gasped, too stunned and shell-shocked to move. “Holy hell.”

She laughed. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Can I get you some water or something?”

“Shut up, Grant.”

There was no venom in her voice, and she was flushed and smiling as he slid his hands from her hair to cup her face. She blinked up at him with eyes so green he felt himself melt into them. “Jesus, you’re beautiful,” he choked out. “And amazing. And so fucking good at that I can’t see straight.”

She laughed and sat back on her heels. “Seeing you lose control like that? Hottest. Thing. Ever.”

He dropped his hands from her face and shook his head. Reaching for his fly, he tucked himself back into his boxer briefs while Anna sat on her heels watching him. His breathing was almost back to normal, so he started to zip up, then decided it was more polite to help her up first. He held out his hand and she took it, her fingers small and warm in his.

He’d just begun to hoist her to her feet when she screamed.

Chapter Eight

The pain that radiated from Anna’s right butt cheek was like nothing she’d felt before.

“What the fuck?” she screamed, rocketing to her feet like a hive of bees dipped in molten lava had just tunneled beneath her dress. Grant gripped her hand as she shrieked again, but all Anna wanted was to get away from the searing pain that speared her haunch.

“What is it? What happened?” His eyes were frantic as he scanned her for damage. Seeing her hand beneath her dress, he registered surprise. Then horror.

“Oh, shit.” He looked down at the ground, kicked over a fallen palm frond, cursed again.

“Something stung me,” Anna cried, still trying to figure out how she’d gone from post-blowjob bliss to brutal agony in five seconds.

Okay, maybe she was being a little dramatic. Still, it hurt like hell.

“A centipede.” Grant stomped his foot on something, muttering as he stomped again. “Got it.” He turned back to her, his brow furrowed and eyes wide with worry. “Let me see.”

Anna stopped rubbing her butt cheek and blinked at him. “I’m not flipping up my dress in the jungle.”

“For crying out loud, Anna. Considering where your mouth was ten seconds ago, I think we’re on familiar enough terms for me to see your butt.”

Anna opened her mouth to say something sassy in retort, but another surge of stinging pain rocketed through her muscle and she cried out again. Grant grabbed her by the waist and flipped up the hem of her dress. She’d imagined exactly that scenario for the last thirty minutes, but this wasn’t how she’d pictured it.

“Ouch!”

“Hold still, it’s the right side?”

“Yes,” she whimpered, wishing her voice didn’t sound so pitiful.

“Thank God for thong panties. I can see the bite right there. Two little punctures like a snakebite.”

“It’s a bite? Not a sting?”

Grant let go of her and shook his head, his eyes scanning the ground around them. “Centipedes bite, or at least the ones on Hawaii do. It’s very toxic and painful as hell.”

“No kidding.” Anna swallowed and tried to keep her hands from shaking. “Am I going to die?”

“No. It’s not fatal. Not unless you have other medical issues like an allergy to bee stings?”

He was walking in circles, looking up at the treetops above them, then down at the ground again. Anna rubbed her butt and winced again.

“No allergies that I know of,” she said.

“Good. Stay right here.”

He dug into his camera bag and grabbed something, then sprinted to a spot about fifteen feet away. He stooped down, then turned and raced back to her gripping a papaya in one hand and a large knife in the other.

“What the hell?” she asked, not sure whether she meant the weapon or the fruit. “Is eating that supposed to help me?”

“No.” Grant sliced into the papaya, his strokes even and lethal. Anna watched the juice dribble into the dirt at his feet and caught sight of something that looked like a pistol in his camera bag.

What kind of man brings an arsenal to a wedding?

A Patton man
, she thought as she watched him hack into the flesh of the fruit.
A Marine
.

Grant dropped the knife on the ground, along with half the papaya. The other half was gripped in one hand as he reached for her with the other.

“Hold still,” he commanded, catching her by the waist again. He flipped up the edge of her dress. “Move your hand.”

She hadn’t realized she was rubbing the bite mark until he said that. “I think you’re taking this bossy thing a little far,” she said, not wanting to admit she found it sexy as hell.

She didn’t fool him, and he pushed her hand out of the way. “You like it,” he said. “And also you need it. This will feel a little cold.”

Before she could ask what he was doing, he was smooshing the papaya against her butt cheek in what was undoubtedly the weirdest postcoital activity she’d experienced.

“Aaah!” she cried out, noticing her voice sounded like a messed-up version of pleasure and pain. “What the—”

“The enzymes in the papaya will help digest the proteins in the centipede’s venom and minimize the symptoms. Hold still and let me rub it in.”

She could feel his fingertips massaging the area around the bite and tried not to imagine what she must look like with orangey goop smeared across her butt cheek. God, could this be any weirder?

“Is that helping at all?” he asked.

She nodded numbly, surprised to realize it did. And surprised to realize she was standing there in the jungle with a hot guy holding fruit on her ass.

“How do you know about this?”

“Jungle-warfare training. Also, I’ve spent a lot of time on Hawaii. Got bitten once myself. It hurts like a sonofabitch. You’re being a real trooper.”

Anna didn’t feel like much of a trooper with her dress hoisted over her waist and fruit salad running down her leg, but she wasn’t inclined to argue. She peered over her shoulder at Grant, who was eyeing her with concern.

He reached for her wrist, and for a moment she thought he was trying to hold her hand. Then she realized he was taking her pulse. “Are you feeling nauseous?” he asked.

“No.”

“Headache?”

“No.”

“Weakness? Heart palpitations?”

“A little, but I think that’s because you keep touching my butt. Either that, or because I just gave you a blowjob in a tropical jungle. Not an everyday thing for me.”

That got a smile out of him, albeit a small one. Grant was all business, and it was crazy how sexy she found that.

“How’s the pain?”

“The papaya helps, but it still hurts like hell.”

“Do you think you can make it to the hospital, or should I pee on you?”

“Pee on me?” Her shriek sent a flock of birds squawking from a nearby tree.

Grant nodded, looking stoic. “Urea and ammonia are basic urine compounds that neutralize the acidity of the poison. It’ll help with pain and inflammation.”

Anna shook her head, backing away. “No, thank you.”

“Well you can’t very well do it yourself.”

“I’ll stick with the papaya, thank you very—
ouch
!” She winced as another searing pain rippled through her. “Dammit, that hurts.”

“It’s working its way into your muscle. Come on, I’ll drive you to the hospital. Can you hold this in place?”

Anna nodded and reached back to clutch the papaya in one shaky hand. She expected Grant to release his grip, but instead he moved his hand over hers and met her eyes with his. “I’m really sorry about this.”

“It’s okay. It’s not like I’m going to die.”

He shook his head. “I should have been more careful. I should have—”

“Known I might get my ass chewed by a bug with a hundred legs?” She shook he head. “No man thinks about that when he’s getting a BJ.”

“There’s actually no such thing as a centipede with a hundred legs.”

“What?”

He grimaced, looking almost regretful he’d said something so geeky. “Different species have varying numbers of legs, but they’re always in odd-numbered pairs—you know, fifteen or seventeen pairs of legs, which means thirty or thirty-four individual legs.”

She frowned at him. “Did you get your Boy Scout merit badge in entomology?”

“I enjoy reading zoology texts for fun.”

“Of course you do. You can’t just read a fucking
Playboy
magazine on the can like every other guy because you’re fucking perfect.”

Grant raised an eyebrow at her, clearly not seeing the connection. “You sure you’re not feeling light-headed?”

“My head is perfectly fine,” she said, trying not to love the feel of his massive hand covering hers while his other hand gently stroked her hip.

My heart, on the other hand—

“Ouch!” she said, wincing as pain gripped her again. She was pretty sure it was just the bite.

“Come on,” he said, pressing the papaya more firmly against her flesh. “Let’s get you to the hospital. You sure you don’t want me to pee on you?”

“Um, what the hell?”

Anna turned at the sound of her sister’s voice. From the edge of a clearing, Janelle emerged from behind a palm tree looking bemused.

Anna bit her lip. “I can explain.”

Janelle raised an eyebrow, looking from Anna to Grant and back to Anna again. “You can explain why a strapping Marine is standing here with his fly undone offering to pee on you while he smears your ass with fruit?”

Anna winced and closed her eyes. “Maybe not.”

…

By the time they left the hospital, Grant’s nerves were shot. He looked over at Anna in the passenger seat and felt his heart lurch. She was curled with her feet under her and her hair falling around her face as she gazed out the window looking small and sleepy and vulnerable.

Not the first time someone got hurt because you couldn’t keep your goddamn pants zipped. Way to go, asshole.

“Have you written your best man speech yet?”

Her words startled him so much he nearly drove off the road. He swerved a little, then overcorrected, his hands gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white. Anna turned away from the window to look at him.

Grant swallowed and tried to keep his face expressionless. “What was the question?”

“Your best man speech. For your sister’s wedding next weekend? The best man usually gives a toast.”

“Best man,” Grant repeated, the words burning his tongue. “Right. I’m sure I’ll come up with something.”

She was studying him now, and Grant tried to keep his eyes on the road instead of on her. From the corner of his eye, he saw her shift in her seat, then wince.

He turned to look at her. “Are you in pain?”

“Surprisingly, not much. The pain meds are taking care of the bite just fine, but the seat belt just hit the spot where they gave me the tetanus shot. Who knew that would be mandatory?”

“I’m just glad you’re feeling better. And I’m glad they took extra precautions with you.”

He didn’t bother mentioning his role in that. He’d hovered around the waiting area like a nervous expectant dad, asking if they’d done tests to check for proteinuria or any indications of disintegrating skeletal muscle tissue or rhabdomyolysis—terms he knew zilch about, but had learned when he’d googled centipede bites on his iPhone. Holy shit, who knew there were so many horrible things that could happen to her?

“I still don’t understand why they had to do an EKG,” she said. “Do they normally do that for everyone who’s bitten by a centipede on Hawaii?”

“Hard to say.”

Hell, Grant could say. Of course they didn’t, but he’d made such a nuisance of himself harassing the nurses about the possibility of abnormal muscle contractions in the heart and vapospasms leading to unwanted vasoconstriction—also shit he’d learned about while googling. The staff had finally agreed to test her for everything just to get rid of him.

Well, and because he handed over his AmEx card. That probably helped.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“I’m taking a shortcut to get you back to your condo.”

“Oh. Good.” She sounded a little disappointed, but maybe she was just tired.

“I’ll stick around to keep an eye on you. If you start developing a fever or necrosis or heart palpitations, I want to be there to help.”

“That’s very kind of you, but my sister—”

“Janelle went to go supervise the cleanup crew at the wedding reception. Then she said she needed to meet with the caterer for Sheri’s wedding on the other side of the island.”

“Dammit, that’s right.” Anna smacked her forehead with her hand. “I was supposed to do that tonight.”

“Don’t worry about it. Your sister has it covered. And I’ll be looking out for you.”

Anna looked out the window for a moment, quiet. When she turned back to him, there was a glint of something familiar in her eye. “Can we go back to your place instead of mine?”

“My place?”

“You have pie. The coconut-lime pie I brought you this morning? I hear it’s a very good treatment for centipede bites. Even better than smearing me with papaya.”

Grant laughed and nodded. “Sure.”

That was just as well. His house was closer to the hospital than the condo where she and Janelle were staying, plus he had a first-aid kit in his medicine cabinet with plenty of antibiotic ointment.

That’s not why you want to get her back to your place.

“I’m sorry again about what happened,” he said.

“Quit saying that,” she said. “It’s not your fault. It hardly even hurts anymore. Besides, it was kinda worth it.”

He glanced over to see her grinning at him, and he couldn’t help but smile in return. “Doesn’t seem fair I got all the pleasure and you got all the pain.”

“Au contraire,” she said, licking her lips. “That was the most pleasure I’ve had in a long time. Seeing your perfect, gentlemanly exterior crack wide open to reveal the sex beast beneath? I think I had an orgasm just witnessing that.”

The thought of her having an orgasm made Grant nearly drive off the road again. Christ, at the rate he was going, she probably thought he was drunk. He hit his turn signal and slowed down to take the corner toward his house. “Well thank you very much for the—”

He stopped, not sure what the etiquette called for here. Anna was looking at him with a bemused expression.

“Blowjob? Hummer? Blumpkin? Knobjob?”

“Right.”

She laughed. “Anytime, Boy Scout.”

He tried not to read too much into that as he parked the car in the driveway, then ran around to open her door and help her out. She didn’t argue, which probably said something. If she was willing to let him baby her a little, she must still be hurting.

Grant led her up the walk and unlocked the front door, ushering her inside. “Do you want to sit inside or outside on the lanai?”

“How about inside? That sofa looks comfortable, and I think I’ve had enough of the great outdoors today.”

“Janelle said the same thing at the hospital. Actually, I think her exact words were, ‘Fuck the great outdoors, where’s the nearest spa?’”

Anna laughed. “That sounds like my sister.”

“I take it you girls are more the indoorsy type?”

“Janelle more than me,” she said, easing herself onto the sofa. Grant handed her an afghan knitted by his mom when he was still in diapers. A silly gesture, since it was seventy degrees in his house, but Anna took it without comment.