TWENTY-NINE
THE PARTY WOUND DOWN AROUND MIDNIGHT, AND Grant helped escort people to their cars and made sure the older folks found their way off the property.
Once the place was cleared out, he made his way back to the ranch to find Katrina in deep conversation with his sister. His parents had already gone up to bed, and his brothers were off in a corner of the living room talking.
“See you all for breakfast,” he said.
“Yeah, early, because I have to catch a flight,” Barrett said.
Grant nodded, then headed over to Katrina, who looked up at him and smiled.
She looked tired.
“Ready to go?” he asked.
“Yes.” She grasped Mia’s hand. “Thank you. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Sure. Good night, you two.”
Grant didn’t know what Katrina and his sister had been talking about. He didn’t need to know. He liked that she’d bonded with Mia, though, and with his mom.
It was important to him in ways he hadn’t had a minute to sit down and think about yet. He wasn’t going to do it tonight, either, not when she was giving him a look that told him she was as ready to leave as he was.
They got in the car and drove to the house. He opened the door and she walked in, but he left the light off.
“I can’t see,” she said.
“We don’t need to see.” He shut the door and drew her close. “We just need to feel.”
He captured her lips in the kiss he’d been dying to take all night. She met his kiss with fervor, sliding her hands along his shoulders, then along his neck and upward, her nails in his scalp.
His passion rose with her touch. He backed her against the door, pressing into her, letting her feel how fast she could ignite him. Her answer was a whimper, her body arching against his.
He’d spent all night watching her. They hadn’t had much time together, but every time he’d searched the room, he caught sight of the way she tilted her head when she was listening to someone talk. And all he could think about was kissing that spot on her neck. Or he’d hear her laugh and he’d search out the sound so he could hear it again.
It was like she was a part of him now, embedded in his senses, and he couldn’t get enough of her.
He turned her around and unzipped her dress, letting it slide down over her hips, admiring every curve as his hands followed. He took off her bra. Her panties were next, and then she was naked. He knew her body well now, and let his hands roam over her breasts, cupping them, letting his fingers tease until her nipples were tight points, her breasts straining against his hands as he fit his body against hers, rubbing his cock against her butt as she moaned against him.
He flipped her around again and shed his clothes, grabbing the condom he’d stuck in the pocket of his shorts. He put it on, sliding his hands between her legs to caress her sex, rub the tight knot of her clit until she lifted.
“Make me come,” she whispered, leaning into him. “Make me come, Grant.”
There was nothing that gave him greater pleasure than feeling Katrina coming apart against his hand. He slid his fingers inside her, using the heel of his hand to brush her clit. Her body gripped his fingers as she released, quaking against him as she dug her nails into his skin.
It was hot as hell, not being able to see her. All he could do was feel, touch, and breathe in the scent of sex.
He flipped her around and pushed her against the door, kicked her legs apart and entered her from behind, once again filling his hands with her breasts as he drove deep.
Her pussy latched onto his cock, a tight sheath of quaking sex that made him close his eyes. For a few seconds, he only wanted to feel her, listen to her gasps, and slide his thumbs over her nipples.
He laid his chin against her shoulder. “You and I fit perfectly together, Katrina. No one will ever do this to you like I can.”
He had no idea why he’d said that to her. Maybe because he knew she’d had no one else. Maybe because for some reason, tonight he felt possessive of her.
She was his. She always had been, and always would be. The thought of another man having her made his blood boil.
He drove into her, sliding his hand down to rub her clit. He wanted to make her come again. And again. Until she wanted no one else but him.
Ever.
She laid her head against his shoulder and cried out, tightening around him with another climax. He pumped hard and fast into her and released, groaning as he came in hard, rhythmic spasms that made his legs shake. He palmed the door for support as he rode it out, giving everything he had until he had nothing left.
He fought for breath, for sanity, for some clarity to the thoughts that had grabbed hold of him while he’d been making love to Katrina.
He wasn’t a possessive man. He didn’t have those kind of caveman ideas about women.
Until Katrina.
What the hell was wrong with him, anyway?
They disengaged and he turned her around, cupped her jaw and kissed her. He meant to make it light and easy, but it ended up strong, passionate, igniting his fire all over again.
By the time they made it upstairs and he brushed his teeth and got ready for bed, Katrina was in bed, naked.
He pulled her toward him, intending to turn out the lights and go right to sleep.
But she turned to him, and there was something in her eyes, something he couldn’t define.
He rolled over and kissed her, that passion he’d felt downstairs still not extinguished. She climbed on top of him and it was Katrina who reached into his nightstand for a condom, rolled it onto his erection and rode them both to another blistering orgasm.