Chapter 30

Grant Foxx is dirty.Even after we showered together, he whispered the dirtiest promises in my ear as we both drifted in and out of sleep. "I can't stop picturing my cock sinking into your pretty pussy. And it is"—his fingers traced along my lips—"so fucking pretty."

He woke me when he shifted between my legs. Keeping his eyes locked on mine, he licked me slowly until I came. "You taste sweeter right after you come." His lips traced along the back of my shoulder as he held me. "I don't think I've had anything as delicious as you on my tongue."

I awaken this time with his body wrapped around me and his hand between my legs with just one finger lightly teasing against my slit. I almost thought he was asleep, playing with me as he dreamt, but when I look over my shoulder, he's smirking with his eyes closed.

"Still hungry?" I study the way his lips tip up even more. This is a beautiful man. Even up close with messy hair and puffy, tired lids, he's ruggedly sexy.

"Not sure I'll ever stop being hungry for you." His arm moves up, pulling me closer. I don't hold back the smile those words bring. This is what it's supposed to feel like. To want to be completely held by someone. And they hold tighter and lean in for more. It's impossible not to think about what he said: "How am I not supposed to fall in love with you now?"

My stomach growls loud enough that he lifts his head up to peer at my face.

"Your stomach is on the same page." He kisses my shoulder, and then gets up and out of bed in one quick move. I don't think my body could move that fast right now, even if I was forced to.

He walks around in the mostly dim room, that gray morning tint that comes just before the sun decides to show up above the horizon. The full-length windows show off what I'm sure is a beautiful landscape, but I couldn't be bothered with that. I'm too busy drinking in this naked man, canvassing his body from his broad back down to his full, toned ass. It's bite-worthy.

It"s the first time I can really see the calligraphy-style tattoo that runs just above his V-cut and along his side toward his back. "I've been curious about that..."

He looks down at where my eyes are glued and smiles at me. "My brothers and I got it when we were younger. Thought it was a good way to remember our mom. She'd call us and our dad that. Her bourbon boys." He runs his thumb along the ink that he can reach. "Not much I remember about her, but I remember that."

The Bourbon Boys

"How long since?—"

He pulls on a pair of sweats. "I was nine when we lost them."

Oh god. He grew up without both of his parents. I hadn't realized.

"Car accident. They didn't do much without the other. He told us there wasn't anyone else on this earth he'd rather be with than my mom. Loved her big." He smiles, looking down at his hands. "It was hard. On all of us, losing them both like that. But I don't think my dad would have survived long if only my mom had passed. It took a lot of years to realize that was how it should have been."

"Griz raised you since you were nine, then?"

He nods. "And my nana. Griz remarried when my dad was young. And then we lost her when I graduated high school."

My eyes water thinking about the amount of loss he's experienced. And I know there's more. He sits on the bed in front of me, instantly brushing the single tear that started to fall down my cheek. I want to tell him about parts of me too.

"I never knew my mom. She left my dad when I was little." I swallow down the emotion that always comes when I think about how great my dad was. "My dad raised me. Got promoted to my best friend when I was about eight. And I had a lot of great years with him. That's how I try to think about it. When I miss him too much, I remind myself about how much I got. Not what I missed."

I kiss the palm of his hand that's been lingering along my neck.

"Tell me about him sometime?"

I nod, swallowing the emotions. "Sometime."

Tipping up my chin, he presses his lips to mine. It"s the simplest of kisses he's given to me, but for some reason, it means something different. Something that tastes like a promise.

"I'm going to take Julep for a quick walk. I think she forgot you're in here, because I haven't heard her whining at the door for a while."

"She really does love me," I laugh.

He stops just as he's about to open the door and looks at me like he wants to say something more. It's a serious look. One that makes me feel like the weight of the room just changed.

Nervously, I smile. "What?"

He shakes his head. "She does. I think she's falling hard for you."

I need to tell him everything. That there's a possibility I'll have to leave again. That I would be committing to him, and him to me, by telling him who I am.

I swallow the lump in my throat as he closes the door behind him, overthinking everything he just said as I hear him sweet-talking to Julep all the way out the door.

It takes me only twenty minutes to find one of his t-shirts, brush my teeth, and comb thru the mess of my hair. I kind of have a glow about me when I take a final glimpse in his bathroom mirror. When I head down the hallway, the coziness of his house feels even warmer than my little cottage. The style and fixtures are nearly the same, but his place has photos peppered throughout of his nieces and brothers. There're fishing poles leaning against the door in the mudroom, oversized dog beds in various rooms, and framed artwork all about bourbon hung throughout. It's masculine, but Grant has taste not too far from my own—a home that's lived in.

When he comes back inside with Julep on his heels, I'm already whisking the eggs into the buttered and heated cast iron pan.

"You making me breakfast?"

I smile upon hearing it. Julep barks and comes charging over to me, but instead of jumping up, she sits in front of me, butt wiggling and waiting for me to pay attention to her. "Almost done, Julep. One sec and I'll give you all the pets."

Slipping the pan into the oven, I set the timer.

"Hello, pretty girl," I croon as I crouch in front of a very excited dog. I rub behind her ears and along the brown coat that stops at her neck. When I look up at Grant, he puts two coffee cups down on the counter.

"You got us coffee?"

"I don't have a coffee pot anymore." He leans down and steals a kiss.

"But those are from Crescent de Lune."

"I didn't know how you liked yours yet, but I knew one of the girls at the bakery would remember. I was today-years-old when I found out what a flat white was." He pops a raspberry in his mouth. "Did Hadley happen to mention Ace's birthday is coming up in a couple of weeks?"

"Yes, she did. I'll be there. But to help. She knows I'm her girl whenever she needs me."

"That so?" he says with a smirk. "Here I was, thinking you'd be my date."

I look over at the timer on the stove, recognizing that there are about sixteen minutes left before the Dutch baby will be ready.

"Is that how you ask a girl on a date? You just assume she'll join you after you've had your way with her?" I'm still stuck on the fact that this man went out of his way for me, and I'm a bit speechless for it. But I like teasing him too.

He leans against the counter and hesitates for a second before he says, "It's been a long time since I've asked a girl out." That shouldn't be all that surprising with the way that he doesn't seem all that interested in most people. "But in case you misunderstood me, honey. When I woke up with the taste of you on my tongue and the smell of you in my beard, I considered you mine."

I blink, because the way this man talks to me feels like foreplay. And all I can think of is that I want to be his. At this moment, I want to claim him the same way he just did me.

"Any chance Julep wants to go play in the backyard for a few minutes?"

He stares at me, not understanding the request until I walk closer and drag my fingers along the outline that's starting to tent his gray sweats.

"I'd like to consider you mine, but I haven't had the pleasure of your taste on my tongue yet."

The smile that takes over his face is contagious.

I slip my fingers into the waistband, and I'm instantly greeted with the firm head of his cock tucked right there. I look up and see his surprise shift to the same kind of hunger I'm feeling.

With a smirk, he tilts his head toward it. "I was already hard when I saw you wearing my t-shirt."

"That's all it took?"

"You underestimate how highly I think about your body." He runs his thumb across my lips—a move that I'm realizing is a favorite of his. "And now that I know what's under that shirt..." He blows out a breath.

"Good, 'cause I got wet just seeing you bring me a coffee," I say as I sink to my knees in front of him.

"Fuck," he exhales with a laugh.

I pull down the waistband past his cock, so hard for me that it practically springs free. Eager and ready. "So big, cowboy," I say in a playful voice. But the truth is, I hadn't yet appreciated the size of him and how mouth-watering he truly is. Leaning in, I give him a little lick, like I'm testing out the flavor of a lollipop.

He groans as I wrap my hand around the base of him, but before I go for another pass with my tongue, I look up from under my lashes. "Tell me something?"

With his head tilted back and lips parted, he says, "Yes. Go. Sure. I'll tell you anything you want right now." A breath rushes out of him when I wrap my lips around the head of his cock, making him shiver.

"Who knew a cop would be so easy to get information out of?" I smile as I swirl my tongue, and his eyes meet mine.

"Honey, I'm not a cop anymore," he grits out on a moan. "And I'll tell you anything you want, but you do realize this would be coercion if I still was?"

When I run my tongue along the tip, I'm gifted with a taste of his excitement leaking along the slit.

"How long have you been fantasizing about this? My mouth on your cock." I take him all the way to the back of my throat.

He pushes air through his clenched teeth. "First fucking moment I laid eyes on you."

I pump him twice with my fist, and then focus on teasing him, dragging my tongue just along the rim.

"Fuck, fine. When I saw you again at the distillery, in the cooperage. Those red lips of yours...Dammit, I wanted to smear that red lipstick, fuck your mouth, and finish on those pretty tits."

I go back down again this time, flattening my tongue on the underside of his swollen cock. Then I wrap my lips and suck, hollowing out my cheeks and creating a punishing pace to get him there. The moan it pulls out of him makes me feel like a goddess rewarding her believer. Puckering my lips tighter, I let my tongue play as I move up and down, chasing my fist as it grips the base of him. I pull off him with a pop, needing to know what he was fantasizing about when I dropped off those band-aids. "When I heard you, in your kitchen?" He opens his eyes, so vulnerable, but ready for me to keep going.

"I thought about fucking your tits and your mouth." His head tilts back as I take him in my mouth again. "I wanted to know how good you'd make me feel. How pretty you'd look on your knees for me." As he hums another moan, I take him deeper while stroking him faster. "Fuck! Just like that." His breathing picks up, and the erratic wet sounds of my mouth on him, along with the curt noises that push out of his lips, have me so turned on, my thighs clench for friction.

"This perfect fucking mouth," he says as his whole body tenses, his fingers woven into my hair. "You're going to make me come."

I look up at him, saliva dripping down my chin, and he sees that I have no plans to ease off. I'm going to drink down whatever he gives me. The moment that registers, he says, "You want me to come on your tongue?"

I nod just enough to tell him he has my permission. Then I pick up the pace, taking his cock as far back as I can without gagging. His hips stutter while his hand grips my hair tighter, exhaling a shaky breath. "Drink up, honey." And he comes down my throat, chasing it with a guttural moan that might just be my new favorite sound.

The timer for the oven beeps just as I swallow, and I slide my mouth off his length. It sends visible chills rolling through his body. Wiping the corner of my mouth, I stand to turn off the timer.

He leans back like the counter is the only thing holding him up. "That was just for coffee?" Sinking his fingers into my hair, he frames my face.

"Nobody has taken the time to even consider how I take my coffee, never mind finding out what I like and then going out of their way to get it. And if I wasn't helping Hadley for Ace's birthday, you would have been my date to the party."

He finds his footing, tucks himself back in, and wraps his hand around my arm, pulling me into him, closing the distance. He doesn't use words, only actions as a response. The way this man kisses with his whole body, it steals the breath right out of me.