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Wound Up
Wound Up
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Wound Up

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She tasted decadent, rich and smooth with a hint of crisp, caramelized sugar.

It was the best taste he’d ever had on his tongue.

Taking the spoon from him, she set it down and retrieved a strawberry. She presented the meatiest part of the fruit, tracing his lips with it, teasing, before she let him take a bite.

Justin realized he was going to cause a scene when he stood up and the world caught sight of the undeniable erection pounding against the waistband of his jeans.

“Jeez. Get a room,” someone nearby muttered.

Annoyed someone would disrespect Grace, he started to whip around and address the speaker.

Grace squeezed his fingers, stopping him.

“That’s a fabulous idea,” she said, so softly he thought he must have misunderstood.

“Sorry?”

She met his gaze without flinching. “I said, that’s a fabulous idea.”

“Getting a room?” he asked stupidly.

“Yes, Justin.” She leaned over and nipped his bottom lip before whispering, “And make it somewhere nearby.”

He let go of her hand to flip the check over as he dug out his wallet. He dropped enough to cover the bill and tip, grabbed Grace’s hand and hauled her out of the restaurant.

She laughed as she followed. “It doesn’t have to be a fifty-yard dash.”

Opening the car door for her, he muttered, “The first time, it probably will be. After that? Monopoly is all about strategy and longevity, baby.” He met her wide-eyed gaze. “This is what you’re getting into with me—all night. No compromises on pleasure given or received. No apologies tomorrow. We talk about what happens next after that.”

“Take me to breakfast and you’ve got a deal.”

“Done.”

Justin did his best to walk to the driver’s side calmly.

He was pretty sure he failed.

* * *

JUSTIN WAS ALREADY backing the car out of the parking space before Grace could buckle her seat belt.

He sped down the 519, his eyes scanning the buildings as they flashed by. “If you don’t have any objections, I thought the Best Western in Pioneer Square would be nice.”

“Sounds perfect to me,” she said, voice husky.

Justin’s grip tightened on the wheel as he sped up. “You’re making me crazy. The voice thing? It’s going to push me over the edge.”

“Can’t help it,” she murmured.

He glanced at her quickly. “Seriously?”

“Happens when I get turned on, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“It’s never happened before.”

“Why now?”

She laughed. “You seduced me, Justin. From the moment you stood in front of me at the club to the strawberry kiss, you...you... Yeah. You seduced me.”

His jaw tightened. “I haven’t talked you into anything you don’t want to do, have I?”

“Considering this is a mutual agreement, there’s been no ‘talking me into’ anything.”

He stepped on the brakes hard and whipped the car into a narrow space in front of the hotel. “Wait here. I’ll get a room.”

She reached for her purse. “Do you want me to pitch in half?”

“Hell, no. Just be here when I get back and we’ll call it even.”

“Justin?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to head in and wander around.”

“Why?”

Her grin was pure sex. “So you can find me.”

His mouth went drier than if he’d filled it with Pixy Stix candy. Nodding, he pushed off the car and jogged into the lobby only to end up waiting in line behind a pissy traveler. Nothing about the guy’s requests was possible, and Justin grew more and more agitated as he waited. She walked past him and his gaze locked on her.

Calm just wasn’t in his repertoire at this point. He had to get this first rush of Grace out of his system. Then he could slow down and enjoy the night. Until then, he was going to burn for the woman who was at this very moment peeling an orange from the breakfast area and waiting on the elevator to go who-knew-where.

Something about that challenge, to hunt her down, claim her as his prize, made him want to shove the stranger in front of him aside and demand the first available room with a king-size bed.

When the guy in front of him finally stormed off, Justin stepped up to the counter and pulled his wallet out. “I need a room for two, king bed.”

The sleepy-eyed clerk didn’t even glance up from the computer. “Smoking or nonsmoking?”

“Non.”

“Floor preference.”

“First available.”

“Front or rear of the building.”

“Look,” Justin said, leaning over the counter. “Give me a room with a king-size bed that’s clean and has room-darkening drapes in this zip code and I’m cool. Just get me the key before I rupture a nut, feel me?”

A lazy smile spread across the guy’s face. “Saw you two come in. She’s hot as hell.”

“Then have a little sympathy, man. A key.”

“Cash or credit?”

“Cash plus a tip if you’ll just give me the damn key,” Justin all but snarled.

A couple of taps of the keyboard and the clerk produced two key cards.

Justin paid him in ones and fives, not thinking about it until the guy arched a brow.

“You pick her up at a strip club?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool. Where does she work?”

“Man, she’s not the stripper. I am.” He scooped up his wallet and glared at the guy. “Good night.”

“Not as good as yours is gonna be,” the guy muttered, shifting to stare at the computer again.

Justin didn’t comment, didn’t spare the guy another look. He went straight to the car and parked it near the first exterior entrance. The room number put them on the fourth floor. He’d start on the second floor and sweep every hallway until he found her. And when he did? He was passing Go and collecting his two hundred dollars.

Immediately.

* * *

GRACE WANDERED ALONG the third-floor hallway, slipping into every vending nook and laundry cranny as she waited for Justin. No telling what was taking so long. The thought that he’d changed his mind and bailed on her flitted through her mind before she dismissed it. He wasn’t the type to go back on his word. She knew that much about him.

A stairwell door closed heavily behind her.

Strong hands spun her around and yanked her into a hard body before she had a chance to react. “You don’t hide very well, Ms. Cooper.”

Her breath hitched. “Maybe I wanted to be found, Dr. Maxwell.”

“Did you now?” he murmured.

“I bit my lip when you pulled me around.” His mouth was so close to hers their lips brushed, featherlight, as she spoke.

“I apologize.”

“Don’t.” Her pulse thundered. “Kiss it and make it better.”

Tipping her chin up, he closed the distance between them. Their lips slid together like two puzzle pieces clicking into place, solid and secure. Tongues touched, tentative before growing bolder. Hands roamed, slow but desperate. And in no time at all, she was lost to the moment.

He treated her like a sensual feast, caressing her face, her neck, the upper swells of her breasts. His short breaths skated over her skin. When he slipped a hand under her shirt and found one nipple, she gasped his name and let her head fall against the wall he pinned her to.

Those magic fingers disappeared seconds before he pulled her close with one hand and cupped the nape of her neck with the other to direct the kiss.

Hunger. He made her hunger for him. Deprived of such sensual sensation for so long, she couldn’t do anything more than follow his lead in the moment. She knew she needed to get her feet underneath her, regain control, and she would. Grace might be a lot of things, but out of control wasn’t one of them.

As if he’d heard her, he broke the kiss. He stared down at her, his blue eyes darkened with lust, the pupils dilated. “C’mon.”

Justin ushered her into the dimly lit stairwell and jogged up the stairs, hauling her along. He emerged on the fourth floor, went to room 420 and, with a shaking hand, inserted the key card. The electronic lock clicked open and he pulled her into the dark room, this time letting the door shut quietly behind them. The moment they were inside, he had her pressed into the corner and slipped his hands up under her shirt to unhook her bra with deft fingers. When the clasp released, he moved to cup one bare breast. The nipple, beaded before he reached it, hardened even more as he pinched and tugged the tender flesh.

Grace slid her hands under his coat, around his waist and up his shirt. Skin to skin. Heat to heat. She reveled in his shudder when she raked her fingernails down his spine, grew empowered by his increasingly frenzied actions. Never in all her life had she felt so raw. When he bent, wrapped his arms around her waist and hoisted her against the wall, her legs automatically wrapped around him and her hips thrust forward.

Justin settled the seam of her sex against the hard ridge of his erection and ground into her.

She gasped and arched her back, exposing her throat.

A primal growl built in his chest. He pressed his lips to her neck, alternately licking and nipping her jugular.

Grace wound her arms around his neck and rode his cock with growing urgency. Soft mewls filled the cool air, and it took her a moment to realize the sounds were hers.

He lifted her off of him and, despite her protests, spun her to face the wall. The button on her jeans made a soft pop when he yanked it free. Zipper teeth chattered their way down. He shoved her pants to her ankles. “Step out.”

She did and, spreading her legs, arched into him. Her body came alive under his touch. Breasts heavy and core aching, she wanted him inside her. She craved him, needed him to stretch her and fill her and take her over the edge again and again.

The sound of a zipper was followed immediately by crinkling foil. Seconds later, the weighted heat of his cock settled against her ass even as unseen fingers slid over her hips and down.

“Sweet hell,” he whispered into her ear as he worked his way into her folds. “You’re so damn wet, baby.”

“Please.”

“I thought you wanted me to be the one to beg,” he teased, tracing his tongue along the shell of her ear.

A desperate, choked laugh escaped her as she slapped her hands on the walls. “No more playing. Finish me, Justin. Please.”

Her slick arousal coated his fingers as he dragged them forward to the small, firm knot of her clitoris. Several short, swift flicks and she came apart in his arms.

Her hips bucked wildly, her breath came hard. Her eyelids slid closed. A deep keening escaped her. She shuddered, pulling a hand off the wall to clutch his and hold him closer as she rode out the crest of adrenaline and raw lust pounding through her veins, thick and viral. He scraped his teeth along the nape of her neck, sending her careening over the edge into a second brutally hard orgasm.

Nothing made sense for several minutes—not the thundering of her heart, not the sound of blood rushing through her ears, not the way her legs had gone to rubber. She was lost in space and time, nothing more than a product of her various pieces.

She was full and heavy, yet vacant, wanting.

She wanted him buried inside her, wanted him to drive her to abandon, wanted him to use her body well.

The images those thoughts conjured took her even higher, as did the knowledge it would all come to pass. She wouldn’t have to fantasize about Justin Maxwell in the dark. Not tonight. Tonight the man was manifest, the fantasy a reality—and the reality was superseding anything her mind had dreamed up, whether in the light of day or the darkest reaches of night.

He calmed her, soothing her with words and fingertips and firm lips on sweaty skin. “That’s one and two. Now turn around.”

Her legs refused to cooperate. Hot hands closed on her bare hips and spun her, pressing her bare ass against the cold wall. “Justin,” she said on a breath.

“Hold on, baby.” His words were strained, heavy, full of his own sensual need. Grabbing her behind the thighs, he lifted her and pinned her to the wall with his weight.