The least she could do was surrender. “I want to be as brave as you are.”
“You’re already there, Grier. Beyond there.”
She stripped her T-shirt off and threw it to the side. He grinned, picked it back up and took her wrist in his hand. Held it down and she watched him rope the shirt around it and the chair until she was bound tightly. And then he stripped off his own shirt and did the same to the other hand and she watched—simply watched—as he made her helpless against him.
No one could see them, not with the way the balcony was built, but she could hear the sounds below them. She felt completely exposed up there, as Reid tied her hands to the big, cushioned chair, the humidity adding to the heat already rising between them.
She couldn’t move—her wrists tied by her shirt and his, and he was between her legs, forcing her thighs to splay around him.
His fingers tweaked her nipples. They were already hard but his touch made her melt and he knew it. Her body jerked and shuddered when he mouthed each one, sucking, biting, tugging.
“Reid . . .” Her voice sounded so needy. Music floated over them from the bar next door—sexy, raunchy music that seemed to be playing just for them.
He slid her shorts down, his head still buried against her breasts. She was completely naked, forced open for him. And she was so wet because of it—from him, for him.
“You’re mine, Grier. You don’t want to be. You’ve fought against it for a long time. But it’s the end of the line. You’re mine. I’ll prove it to you.”
He knelt between her spread legs and buried his face in her sex, his tongue laving her. She cried out, her voice mingling in with the music drifting out of the bar, and she wouldn’t have cared if everyone heard her.
Her body relaxed, melted as he found her most sensitive areas and worked them, pleasure spearing her. She was so full of want, her nerves frayed and ready to give in to anything Reid gave her. She trusted him, enough to lose herself in the moment, the familiar sensations of orgasm gathering in her belly.
The first climax sizzled through her—the second right on its heels, more of a jagged release that stole her breath and made her lower body jackknife, arching against Reid’s mouth and the bindings, her blood thrumming with the power and the novelty of being outside and so wanton at the same time.
He wasn’t done, wouldn’t be so until he’d had his fill. And judging by the look in his eyes, that wasn’t happening anytime soon.
* * *
Reid needed to come, wanted to be inside of her when he did so. He’d waited while she’d healed, and while he didn’t want to hurt her, he couldn’t hold out any longer.
He untied her wrists, rubbed them, kissed them as her head lolled back in the chair, her mouth curved in a smile. He leaned forward and picked her up.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, nuzzled his cheek. Kissed him along his earlobe, biting gently.
“Don’t tease.”
“Not teasing. Want more,” she told him, her eyes shining.
“You’ll get it.”
He put her on the bed, then rolled her to her stomach. He knelt behind her, then pulled her hips up so she was on her hands and knees. “Does this hurt?”
“No.”
Her sex was still wet and hot, and he entered her slowly, filling her for the first time in a year. He wanted to savor it, make it last.
“Has there been anyone but me?” he asked. “Tell the truth, Grier.”
“No. No one.”
“For me either,” he said before he entered her. She was wet and hot and still so tight and he groaned as he tried to go slowly.
He wasn’t lying—it had been him and his hand for a year, and the frustration finally set free hummed through his body like a tornado threatening to take out everything in its path. There was no way to stop it—and thankfully, Grier was on board. Hanging on to the sheets for dear life as he drove inside of her deeply, his body trembling from trying to draw it out.
Grier was crying out his name, over and over, and he loved that. Loved her. Had the balls to admit it to himself but not to her. Not yet.
He put a hand on her lower back and another on her hip as she groaned, “More,” against the pillow.
More. Yeah, he could do that.
She contracted around him, stilled and he couldn’t hold out any longer, let himself come with a hard buck against her, his mouth nuzzling her neck. And Grier was still holding onto him for dear life.
And it was better than any goddamned fantasy he’d ever had about her. Better than anything.
Chapter Twelve
Reid was too restless to sleep. He waited until Grier was soundly so, then dragged himself to the bathroom, showered and pulled on a pair of shorts. The fan spun lazily overhead, but the heat and humidity always got to him. Made him feel like a prowling lion, and even though he knew Gunner kept the place secure, he needed to do his own security sweep.
He padded down the stairs, his gun at his side. When he got to the back room where all the tattoo equipment was housed, he heard a door opening. Three in the morning. The bar was winding down, the music off, and it was easy to hear movement inside the front room.
A shadow passed by and Reid recognized the flash of Gunner’s hair. There was a small sound, like someone tripping and then there was dead silence.
He moved around the corner and found Gunner holding a gun to a man’s head.
Keegan’s head.
Reid’s shoulders slumped in relief and he lowered his weapon. “Dude, he’s with me.”
“First of all, you shouldn’t sneak up on
