T
he Berkshire Pub bristled with energy. As Ethan scanned the bar, he noticed several men in suits standing together in groups, clinking beers and speaking to each other boisterously. They aimed to relax, to let the stress of the workweek go and just hang. He understood that goal all too well.
The place was small and packed. And nothing like the kind of pub he’d expect Gracie to frequent. The sconces hung on the walls at least ten feet apart and did little to inject the place with either light or cheeriness. And his shoes protested each step along the sticky floor.
A group of women sat at a table near the bar. As he approached the counter, their voices lowered. Ethan nodded at the women and sat on a stool in the center of the bar, turning his head once again to search for Gracie.
Minutes later, he knew without looking that she’d entered the pub. The men to his right continued to talk, but their gazes landed on something behind him, and their boisterous discussion of the upcoming
Sunday Night Football
match-up disintegrated into vague generalities followed by distracted
uh-uh
s and
yeah
s.
He turned around in his stool. In seconds, he scanned her from head to toe, taking in the slim black skirt that molded to her lithe body, the sheen of gloss on her bow-shaped lips, and the waves of hair that fanned around her. Her absent gaze gutted him—because it skated over the men in the bar as if they were all strangers to her—him included.
He’d play along, but he’d play on his terms. He willed her to look at him simply by the force of his stare. And she did. Then, slowly and purposefully, he turned around and raised his hand to get the bartender’s attention.
“Let me have a Wild Turkey, neat, and make it a double,” he said.
The bartender nodded and moved away.
Gracie took a stool several feet to his right, away from the clump of men that appeared to be shifting closer to her. She removed her trench coat and placed it on the stool beside her. Ethan angled his body in her direction and watched her out of the corner of his eye.
Not surprisingly, one of the men in the clump—a tall, wiry man with shellacked hair and a tailored suit—made his move. Raising the glass of whiskey the bartender placed in front of him, Ethan turned to Gracie with a question in his eyes. She nodded, but he wasn’t sure what she’d communicated.
Everything is okay, Ethan. I’ve got this
? Or:
Come over here and make sure this guy doesn’t harass me
?
He waited. And watched. And he ached. Because he wanted to claim her as his, with a fierceness that made his fingers twitch as they held his drink. She spoke briefly with the man, laughed, and dropped her head. Then her hand lifted several strands of hair and tucked them behind her ear.
Fuck.
She was flirting with the guy? He’d give her two minutes to play out her hand. Nothing more.
The man by Gracie’s side moved her trench coat and sat on the stool beside her. Ethan clenched his jaw when the man leaned into her. Playtime was over. Ethan rose from the stool and strode toward the couple that would never be.
Gracie’s eyes widened as she watched his approach. Rounding them to stand on Gracie’s free side, Ethan set his boot on the bar’s foot rail and leaned into her. “I’ve had enough,” he whispered in her ear.
Gracie turned her face in his direction. Her lips, wet and plump, called to him. “Excuse me, do I know you?”
Gracie’s companion leaned over. “Is there a problem here?”
Ethan stood and stretched out his chest. “There’s no problem. The lady has a choice. I’m asking her to choose me.”
The man’s eyes flickered between Ethan and Gracie. “Do you know each other?”
Gracie lifted her glass and swirled the red and gold concoction with her straw. Then she took a dainty sip and stared straight ahead. “I don’t know him,” she replied.
“Dude,” the man said to Ethan. “There’s a code. You’re breaking it.”
“
Dude
,” Ethan replied. “I’m more interested in what the lady wants. Can’t fault me for that, can you?”
The man took a step back and assessed his competition. Ethan crossed his arms and waited. He hoped his narrow-eyed gaze would be sufficient to chase the man away. He didn’t need trouble. Not anymore.
Gracie shifted in her stool and stood between them. “Gentlemen. Let’s break this up.” Then she turned to Ethan and placed her hands on his chest. “Let’s go,” she said with a nervous smile.
The man raised his eyebrows and his jaw dropped. “That’s it? You’re leaving with him?”
Gracie nodded. “That’s it. I’m leaving with him. My choice.” When she reached for her belongings, Gracie’s hands shook. She lifted a few bills from her wallet and set them on the counter. She raised her hand to get the bartender’s attention. Pointing between them, she said, “That’s for both drinks. His and mine.”
She grabbed Ethan’s hand and strode toward the pub’s exit.
Behind her, Ethan’s mind raced. He understood the game, but he didn’t understand her motivation. And she hadn’t appeared all that comfortable playing it in the first place. Was she trying to prove something to herself? To him? Outside the pub, he stopped walking, causing her to fall back against him because he still held her hand.
“What’s going on, Gracie?”
“Nothing, Nic. I was just having a little fun. I thought you’d enjoy it, but I didn’t expect you to get into a brawl at a bar.”
“That guy wasn’t going to fight me.”
“Lucky him, I’m sure.”
“Exactly.”
She again grabbed his hand. “Let’s go.”
“Where are we going?”
“To my car. It’s parked in the lot across the street.”
Ethan trailed behind her. Her odd behavior defied explanation. He wished he could get inside that head of hers, but he knew from experience that women were puzzles that couldn’t be solved so easily.
* * *
Gracie’s heels struck a staccato beat as they hit the pavement, matching the rapid drum of her heart.
Now what?
She’d planned to entice Nic under the guise of anonymity. What man didn’t fantasize about having sex with a stranger?
Oh. Right. The man who walked beside her, apparently. He and his furrowed brow could shove it.
“Let’s take the stairs,” she said.
They climbed the stairs in silence. The echo of their footsteps grew louder as they approached the door on the second floor. Or maybe that was the pounding of her heart. She had no clue what she’d do when they reached her car. But she needed to act fast. She whipped off her trench coat and folded it over her arm as she trudged up the stairs.
She’d parked her car at the far corner of the lot, hoping it would afford them the privacy they’d need. An hour later, it remained alone in the large space, a significant distance from the cars parked near the stairwell and elevators. The lonely car signaled her intentions like a gaudy neon sign.
Sex in a parking lot, anyone?
the car asked.
She grabbed her key fob from her purse and unlocked her car. “Get in the passenger side,” she said. “Give me your jacket.”
He angled his head but did as she asked. Then, in silent acknowledgment of her plans for him, he reached for the seat control and pressed it to accommodate his long legs. Gracie threw their jackets in the backseat, and then she climbed in after him. He helped her by raising her skirt as she sat on his lap.
Her Camry was small, and Ethan was large. The cramped quarters heightened her awareness of everything about him.
He squeezed her waist. “We could do this in my bed. It’s large and comfortable, and we could roll around in it all night.”
“Too tidy,” she said. “I want this.”
“Are you sure, Gracie? Because we—”
“Nic, please. This is what I want. I don’t want to wait. I don’t want to think. I just want to feel. It’s a simple fuck. It doesn’t have to be complicated.”
His hands left her sides. “Fine. This is your show. Take it away.”
So she did. She unbuttoned his jeans and slid his zipper down. “Rise up,” she commanded. When he raised his ass off the seat, she tugged down his jeans and his boxer briefs to his thighs.
His cock sprang to attention and stood stiff as a board. “What are you going to do about your panties?” he whispered.
“Who says I’m wearing any?” she asked as she raised her skirt higher.
Nic’s eyes closed on a long moan. “This is the sweetest torture.”
She bunched her skirt at the waist and circled her ass on his thighs. “Isn’t it, though?”
“Shit, Gracie. You’re soaked. Move closer to my cock. I need to feel you there.”
She did as he asked. Then she laced her fingers around his neck and leaned in for a kiss. His mouth engulfed hers, the pressure of his lips against hers almost painful. She delighted in it, savoring his tongue. His frenzied exploration of her mouth matched her frenzied undulations against his erection. They engaged in a whirlwind of activity that seemed impossible in the tight space.
Nic’s nimble fingers unbuttoned her blouse, and her red satin bra peeked out from the blouse’s center. Nic simply stared. She held her breath, wanting him to part the material and reveal her to him. But he did nothing. For a few seconds, her confusion paralyzed her. Then she remembered.
Ah. Right. This was her show.
Gracie removed her blouse, hitting her elbow on the window in the process. “Ouch,” she said.
He clamped down on his bottom lip, stifling a laugh, she was sure, and then he gave her a wry grin. “That bed probably seems more appealing right now, huh?”
She shushed him and lowered the straps of her bra. “Do you want to see them or not?”
“Oh, yes, I’d like to see them.”
“Then no more smart comments, Mr. Hill.”
Nic’s gaze held hers. His green eyes darkened. She was so close she could see when his pupils contracted. She lowered the cups of her bra and her breasts bounced out. “Lick them. Please.”
Nic’s nostrils flared. Then his head descended to her torso. He drew one nipple into his mouth and licked it in lazy circles. Gracie whimpered. It couldn’t be helped. The sound filled the car despite her best effort to stifle it.
The whimper served as Nic’s catalyst. After that, his rapid ministrations threatened to overwhelm her. He nipped and sucked on her nipples as his hands outlined the shape of her breasts. And he didn’t stop. Over and over, he nipped, sucked, and kneaded. Gracie shamelessly gyrated on his thigh all the while. Exquisite.
Gracie arched her back and breathed in the scent of their arousal. It was everywhere. She reached for his hard length and held it in her hand. When she slid her hand from the base of his cock to its crown, he stopped moving. She moved her index finger across the crown and slid down to the base. She moved to his ear. “I want this inside me. Now.”
He turned his head toward her and captured her mouth. “Take it,” he said against it.
“Condom,” she said.
He reached in his back pocket and handed her the foil packet.
“You want me to do the honors?” she asked.
“It’s your show, remember?”
She opened the packet and rolled the condom down his length. Nic’s head hit the headrest. The corded muscles of his neck strained against his smooth skin. She leaned in and sucked on the expanse of skin at his throat. His large hands caressed her back, soothing her despite the flurry of need that wove its way through her.
She couldn’t wait any longer. Lifting herself from his thighs, she centered his cock at her entrance. Then she pushed down, reveling in the tight fit. Inch by inch, she took him in. And with each inch, her muscles tightened against him. The friction nearly shattered her.
Nic leaned forward and rested his forehead against the crook of her neck. “Ah, Gracie. It feels incredible. Don’t stop, baby.”
When she’d taken all of him, she settled in for a long ride. Nic’s hands moved from her waist to her backside, kneading the warm flesh. As Gracie rocked into him, Nic met her with his own forceful thrusts. He used his hands to lift her ass, increasing the friction as she slid up and down his cock. Just as she’d planned, Gracie lost herself in the moment.
* * *
Ethan squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth. He expected to explode any minute. But he had to hold on. Had to give Gracie the escape she needed. He opened his eyes and absorbed the image of her rocking into him.
A fine sheen of perspiration covered her skin. Her eyes, glazed and unfocused, drew him in. Her breath hitched, and she began to chant. “Yes, yes, yes. Oh. Right there. Right . . . there.”
He reached between them and found her clitoris. Her lips parted. Her eyes, heavy with desire, closed. He stroked her in circles as she continued to ride him.
Hoping to get a better angle, he shifted in the seat and yelped when the seat belt release dug into his hip. “Never again will I let you choose where we hook up.”
Her brown eyes widened, and her pupils dilated. “Hook up. Such a perfect description.”
She was in a mood, and he wanted to make her come so hard she’d snap out of it. Ethan quickened his thrusts and applied even more pressure to her clit. Gracie’s head fell back, and her hair tickled his thighs. “Yes, yes, yes,” she cried.
Then her face fell forward. She leaned into him and bit his shoulder. The unexpected sensation threw him. Turned him on in a way that was wholly unfamiliar. “Fuck, yes. Gracie. Bite me, baby. Do what you need.”
She sucked on his shoulder instead. He almost stopped when he felt wetness on his shoulders. Was she crying? “What is it?” he asked.
She lifted her head. Her brown eyes seemed to turn black. “Don’t stop. Not now.”
Seconds later, they came together. His orgasm ripped through his body as she trembled against him, their moans rising and falling until finally an eerie silence remained.
She collapsed against his chest, and he tightened his hold on her waist. The musky air reminded him of the small space and the impromptu nature of this coupling. He didn’t know what had brought this on, but he knew with certainty that he’d just experienced one of the most explosive orgasms in all his years. And she didn’t even know his real name.