Snare (Falling Stars #3) (41 page)

Holding the robe tightly around my body, I stare at myself in the mirror.

"You can do this," I try to convince my reflection, but that bitch is looking at me like I'm insane.

"Sid," Xavier knocks on the door before turning the knob and opening. "No robes allowed."

I look at him through the mirror. He stands in the open doorway buck ass naked.

"You've seen me naked like hundreds of times," I argue.

"During sex, sure," he concedes. "But the girls are with their mom until tomorrow evening. We have the entire house to ourselves and
you
said I could have whatever I wanted."

"But I thought you'd want anal or something," I contend.

"It's my birthday," he retorts.

Growling, I peel the robe off my body.

"Who the hell asks for a naked night?" I exclaim, turning to face him.

His eyes rake over my body, bold and assessing.

Swallowing, I cross my arms over my chest.

"Uh-uh." He grips my arms and pulls them away.

Instead of releasing them, he wrenches me from the bathroom into the bedroom.

"You're really going to make me walk around naked until tomorrow night?"

The way his eyes slide downward, slow and seductive, my body flushes. Arousal pulses beneath my skin, zeroing in on my clit like electric pulses.

"You are so beautiful," he says, his voice husky.

Jerking on my arms, he pulls my chest to his.

The touch of our skin sends goosebumps all over my body. My clit throbs in time with my rapid heartbeat.

"And you are all mine," he says with a grin.

Leaning down, he brings his mouth to mine.

Instead of kissing him, I say, "Lay on the bed." I lick his lip. "Mine."

He lifts his head, a dazed expression on his face, but does as I ask.

Kneeling on the mattress, I crawl up his body until my face hovers over his.

I dip down and lick his mouth again.

"Mine."

He inhales sharply.

Inching down, I run my tongue over his neck.

"Mine," I growl.

In my peripheral, I watch his biceps tense.

Moving farther down his body, I stop at each nipple, his stomach, and each hip, licking and claiming.

His eyes follow my every move, making me feel bolder. The heat, lust, and desire in his eyes turns me on to the point where I want to rub my pussy against his leg just to get some relief.

Brushing my hair to one shoulder and out of the way, I grip his hard dick. It pulses beneath my touch, making my pussy clench. Xena is in full Amazon Warrior mode, demanding to conquer.

Running my nose from the swollen tip of his cock to the base, I inhale the pure, raw scent of him.

I close my eyes and go lower, licking one ball.

"Mine," I growl, my voice a raspy and full of lust.

I repeat my motions with the other ball before flattening my tongue at the base of his cock and swiping up, swirling at his tip.

"Mine," I claim, taking him into my mouth.

"Fuck," he groans, fingers sliding against my scalp.

Hand fisting my hair, he guides my head over his length.

Unable to deep throat—I have a fucking gag reflex—I take him halfway with my mouth and pump the rest with my hand.

"Sid," he rumbles, "stop." He pulls my mouth off him by my hair.

Panting, he locks eyes with me.

I stretch my tongue out as far as I can and lick his red, swollen tip.

"Mine," I repeat.

"Fucking right it is," he growls.

Releasing my hair, he slips his hand under my arms and pulls me up his body.

"What if I wasn't done with—"

He impales me.

"Holy shit," I exclaim.

"You licked it," he groans, thrusting up into my pussy, "it's yours. Now, I'm just giving it to you," he finishes.

I match his thrusts, bringing my hips down hard. Every muscle tenses in preparation.

"Yes, fuck yes!"

I drop my chest to his and slide my arm beside his head. Fisting his hair, I curl around his body until every nerve explodes in a simultaneous celebration of Conan's conquering success.

As I come down from my orgasmic high, Xavier flips me onto my back.

He pounds between my legs three times before grunting in succession with his hard thrusts.

Collapsing over me, his arms bearing his weight, he pants between my breasts.

"You're going to marry me," he informs.

I snort, "That's just the fantastic orgasm talking."

Lifting his head, he stares into my eyes.

"You're going to marry me one day, Sidra."

The seriousness in his gaze makes my stomach feel like it's been invaded by Starfighters.

"What…" I stumble on the word, but push on, "what makes you think I'd marry your hairy ass?" I taunt on a whisper.

"You licked it," he responds, capturing my mouth.

The End

About the Author

To keep up to date on upcoming releases, sneak peeks, cover reveals, and inspirational music & images you can find Sadie Grubor on Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads, and her website.

Amazon Author Page: Sadie Grubor

Facebook:
www.facebook.com/authorsadiegrubor
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www.facebook.com/groups/GruborGroupies

Goodreads: Sadie Grubor

Website:
www.sadiegrubor.com

Twitter:
https://twitter.com/SadieGrubor

About the Editor

It has been my pleasure to work with Monica over the course of so many of my books.  As I confessed to her during SNARE edits – I am way too dependent on her.   But she's okay with it, so I'm sticking with it.  I look forward to being just as dependent on her in the future.

THANK YOU MONICA!!!

This is where you can find her, but she's really, really, really, really, really, busy, so she can't…. OKAY, perhaps I'm being a bit selfish. I'll still be pouty about it, just saying!

Monica Black – Freelance Editor
www.facebook.com/wordnerdediting
www.wordnerdediting.com

Other Books by Sadie Grubor

Falling Stars Series

Falling Stars
Stellar Evolution (a Falling Stars novella)

Hidden in the Stars (a Falling Stars novel) book 2

Stellar Collision (a Falling Stars novella)

Snare (a Falling Stars novel) book 3

**Coming soon…..  Novella 3.5  &  Book 4 in the series **

Modern Arrangements Trilogy

Save the Date
Here Comes the Bride
Happily Ever Addendum

Terms and Conditions

Stand Alones:

Live-In-Position

All Grown Up

VEGAS follows you home

Excerpt From:
VEGAS

Follows you home

"We are going to Vegas. We are going to Vegas!" They used the damn Blue's Clues theme music to their lyrics.
 

Olivia Harlow

It's a trip with friends. A single girl's celebratory getaway. Olivia Harlow finishes the biggest job she's been offered since starting Harlow Cakes, her custom and specialty cake shop and bakery. So, it's a Vegas weekend for Olivia, the level headed, single mother, with her life scheduled.
There is no way she could guess what would happen and who would follow her home.
 

Damon Knyght

His search is over. After rising up from the ashes of his life and the pain, he found them. Now that he has them, there is no letting go.

"Olivia!" Mercedes shouted as she emerged from the office on the furthest side of the kitchen.

"Yeah?" I replied, quietly, my attention focused on creating the complicated ribbon pattern for the wedding cake I needed to finish today.

"You'll never guess the call I just had." She stopped just before crashing into my worktable.

"Ced, if you don't calm down, I'm going to ask you take three steps away from the cake before I end up wearing all five tiers of it."

Sarah, my baking assistant, giggled from my right.

Mercedes put her hands up and took two steps back.

"But, Liv, seriously, you just got the job of a lifetime!" She vibrated with excitement.

Securing the last ribbon detail, I straightened and stretched out my spine, the three pops accentuating relief. Taking a deep breath, I focused on Ced and the topic at hand.

"What are you talking about?"

"Okay, so, I was going over the books and the upcoming schedule. Because, as you know, since we were featured on that reality wedding show, our business has completely increased, and if I don't keep on top of the books and schedule, things just get hectic crazy around here. And when things are hectic crazy around here you get gar-um-pee."

Known for her ability to complete full conversations in one breath and without another person actually participating, if I didn't interrupt, we would be here for a while.

"Ced, take a breath and circle back to the phone call."

"Oh," she blinked rapidly, "yeah, thanks. As I was saying, I got a call requesting you to prepare desserts and a cake for over two thousand people." Ced's eyes twinkled with excitement. "Two thousand people, Olivia! Do you realize how big this is?"

"Wait, a wedding with two thousand people? Is it some celebrity?"

Sarah started to go over the cake details with iridescent sugar powder, giving the ribbons a glossy sparkle.

"No, no, not a celebrity. It's a corporate function." She lifted a notepad I hadn't noticed her holding. "Vivianne Lachlan will be arriving to discuss the details with you personally, but they want you to prepare all the desserts and the large cake for their company function. They are even going to pay the traveling costs."

"Didn't you tell her we account for travel and delivery costs in the fees?"

"Of course I did." She may as well have said
Duh!
"But we've never had flight costs before, so I figured we would—"

"Wait, flight costs? Why am I flying somewhere?"

"It's in New York," Ced responded. "They want you to come to New York and prepare everything there. Hotel and travel expenses will be handled by Miss Lachlan and her employer."

"Whoa, Ced, I don't fly to other states to work. We can't do it. Call her back and apologize for the misunderstanding." I began cleaning up the icing bags.

"Are you crazy, Liv?" Mercedes stepped back up to the table. "This job will be enough money to pay for half of this year’s expenses. You will retain a large profit margin this year," Mercedes argued.

From Mercedes' appearance — her rainbow-dyed shag hair, purple-blue contacts, and standard vintage-inspired style, along with her A.D.D. — you would never guess the girl was a numbers genius. Appearances were deceiving. In fact, Mercedes Welch graduated valedictorian at Carnegie Mellon University in Mathematical Sciences. She had been dating one of the instructors at my Pittsburgh Culinary School when I met her. Mercedes had and always would be one of the most interesting people in my life.

"I'm not going to leave Alex and go to New York. You know—"

"I believe it would be worth your while to accept."

Snapping my attention toward the unfamiliar voice, I allowed myself a moment to absorb the unexpected visitor. A very tall, thin woman with sleek, dark brown hair wrapped smartly into a bun atop her head, stood at the doorway between the kitchen and storefront of my bakery. Her skin, fair and flawless, contrasted with her dark eyes. Beside her stood Mrs. Dorn, a woman I'd hired a few years back to run the storefront.

"I'm so sorry, Olivia. She said you were expecting her, but she wouldn't wait at the consultation table." Mrs. Dorn turned her apologetic eyes from me and glared at the corporate woman next to her.

"It's fine, Mrs. Dorn. She was expected. Thank you." Forcing a smile in the new woman's direction, I turned to Sarah. "Can you finish this up and get Greg to help you carry the cake to the cooler?"

Sarah nodded and I turned back to the tall woman. A woman whose put-together, pristine appearance had me wiping my hands on my oversized, worn, and food-color-stained jeans. As if that would fancy up the old band t-shirt and knotted red mess held on my head by a bandana. I refused to wear a hairnet like a lunch lady.

"I'm sorry, Miss…"

"Lachlan." She stepped forward with her hand held out for me.

I met her halfway between my table and the door, taking her hand and shaking it.

Mrs. Dorn retreated to the front of the shop.

"Miss Lachlan, there's been a misunderstanding. I don't travel. I can send a team from the shop to put together—"

"I'm afraid Mr. Knyght is requesting you be on site to handle things," she said, matter-of-factly, as she reached into the leather bag at her side. Pulling out an envelope, she handed it to me. "You will be well compensated. Oh, and this does not include the travel. B.I.G. will make all flight and hotel accommodations on your behalf.

Slipping the check from out of the envelope, I read the amount three times to be sure my vision wasn't doubling. It held far more zeros than I'd ever seen in person. For a moment, my greedy side wanted to drop to my knees and thank the woman, but my realistic nature tampered down the impulse.

"I'm flattered to be so in demand, but I'm afraid it just simply isn't possible." Handing the check back to the shocked corporate woman, her dark eyes grew wide with what looked like worry.

"Olivia," Ced hissed, stepping in front of me, "are you crazy?" Giving me her back, she turned toward Miss Lachlan. "Give us a moment, please?"

Grabbing my arm, she pulled me across the kitchen and into her small office. In a hush, she began her reprimand.

"Are you an idiot? You'd have to be to pass up this opportunity." She sighed heavily, grabbing the financial breakdown she must have created while on the phone with Miss Lachlan earlier. "Do you see this?" She held the clipboard in front of me. "This is a ton of money for the bakery, you, and Alex."

She put her hand up, halting my protest.

"You can go to New York, take Sarah and Greg with you. You have Emily so groomed that between her, Mrs. Dorn, and Jeff, we can take care of the bakery. I'll call some of the students at the culinary school to do some temp work if needed."

Before I could try to protest again, she put her hand over my mouth.

"I will stay and take care of Alex. We haven't had any Auntie Cedie time lately. Everything will be perfectly fine for one day and night."

A light tap on the half-closed door interrupted our discussion.

"Miss Harlow?" Reaching out, I pushed the door all the way open. Miss Corporate Ladder stood there looking haughty. "I just got off the phone with my employer." She raised the cell phone she held in her left hand. "He is prepared to double the offer."

"She'll do it," Ced blurted.

"Excellent." Miss Lachlan held out the same envelope holding the check.

"Mercedes," I hissed.

She covered my mouth with her hand once more and took the check with her other. I pushed her hand from my mouth.

"The other half of the payment will be given after you have completed the job." She pulled more papers from her bag. "Now, we need to discuss the details."

Mr. Damon Knyght

After all this damn time and effort, she's turning down the offer. It's enough money to give her business a major gain at the end of the fiscal year. I should know, I've seen her financial records.
I clenched my free hand into a fist.

"Vivianne, offer whatever she wants," I growled through clenched teeth.

"Sir? Are you sure about this? I mean, I can arrange—"

"Don't question me! Double the offer! Give her the initial check and she will receive the other half upon completion of the job. Don't fuck this up, Vivianne!" I slammed my desk phone down and moved to the small bar in my oversized office.

As I poured the whiskey into the chilled tumbler, I caught a glimpse of the silver frame turned over on the bar. Knowing the absolute torture I would be putting myself through, I slid my fingers across the cool silver and picked it up. Inhaling deeply, I flipped it over and looked at him. Tightness in my lungs suffocated me. I slammed the frame back to the bar and the glass shattered from the force, scattering across the lacquered wood. Grasping a tumbler and filling it halfway with whiskey, I tossed back the aged smoothness in one swig.

"M-Mister Knyght?" My secretary's timid voice carried across my vast office from the partially opened doorway.

"Yes?" I replied, my voice gravelly. I cleared my throat.

"Is, uh…is everything okay, sir?" She fidgeted, well aware of my temper.

"Yes," I answered, curtly. "Could you please have housekeeping clean the glass near my bar?"

"Of course, sir." She smiled and turned to tend to the task.

"Don't let them touch the picture frame!"

She snapped her head around quickly.

"Y-yes, sir," she said, continuing her retreat.

Sitting back into the chair at my desk, I impatiently waited for another call from Vivianne. This time, it had better be a confirmation of Olivia Harlow taking the job.

When the intercom buzzed, I grabbed the phone.

"Is it Vivianne?"

"No, sir. It's your brother." My secretary's voice wavered.

"Send him through," I said with a disappointed sigh.

Our father, Damon Senior, remarried after he and my mother divorced. I had been two. He wanted a housewife and my mother, much too independent and intelligent to waste away in a house with multiple children, refused to comply with his desires.

The conflict brought about the divorce. Luckily for me, my parents worked hard to remain civil with one another, mostly for the sake of the public eye. With my father being a world-renowned surgeon and my mother residing as the CEO of B.I.G., they needed to keep a certain level of professionalism, even in their private lives.

Damon Senior remarried about six months after the divorce and soon produced Hugh with his wife, Heidi. She is much younger than my father and more than content to be a trophy housewife. Her dependence on him also made his affairs easier for him to get away with.

The phone buzzed again. "Hugh?" I answered.

"Good morning, Damon," he greeted in his usual pleasant tone.

"So, to what do I owe this call? We didn't have a call set up, did we?" Scanning my calendar, I saw nothing.

"No, I'm just calling to let you know Scarlett and I have finally set a date."

Settling back against my chair, I took a deep breath and smiled.

"That is…great news. So, when are you finally going to make an honest woman of her?"