Grace (The Family Simon #5)- Juliana Stone Page 0,41
to his beer.
“Nah, I’m good.” Logan smiled. “Here come the girls.”
Grace was laughing at something Betty said as they came up to the men. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair still a wild mess around her shoulders, and that delectable mouth of hers tempted him like no tomorrow.
He was done here. They had things to do.
“Bluebell.” He didn’t say it loud, but she sure as hell heard it.
Her laughter slowly faded and he saw her catch her breath when she met his gaze. Something about that, and the small sound she made, was enough to make him crazy, and his jeans more than a little uncomfortable.
She pushed a big chunk of hair from her neck and tucked it behind her ears. “Guys, I’m just going to say goodbye to my brothers.”
“Goodbye?” Betty looked confused. “You’re going already? But it’s early and the band hasn’t even played their best set.” Her voice trailed off and then she made a face. “Oh. Okay. I get it.” She leveled a look at Grace. “I take it you’re not sleeping in my old bed?”
“Betty!” Her sister Bobbi looked painfully embarrassed.
“Don’t worry about it,” Grace replied, taking a step back. “I’ve known Betty for a few years now, and I know her filter gets clogged sometimes.”
Matt had to agree with her there.
It took Grace all of five minutes to say goodbye to her brothers and, surprisingly, Tucker walked them both to the door and shook Matt’s hand.
“Drive safe and take care of her,” Tucker said gruffly. Matt knew the guy was just looking out for his sister—that’s what families did—so he took no offence when Tucker asked Grace to call him when she got to Matt’s place.
She snuggled up alongside him in the truck. And man, it felt as if she belonged there—as if she’d always belonged there. His mood was light and he whistled to whatever song was on the radio, something from the eighties, and that led to an intense conversation about whistling.
Turned out Grace couldn’t get the knack of it, no matter how hard she tried, and by the time they reached his place, she was laughing uncontrollably while trying to whistle along to the radio.
She stumbled getting out of the truck, but Matt was there and he grabbed her up close. “I think you’ve had more than your fair share to drink tonight, Bluebell.”
She nodded. “Yep. I’m drunk.” And then she giggled. “I’m drunk on you, Matt Hawkins.”
He stared down into her eyes and swept that stubborn long curl that was always falling over her forehead. She was so damn sweet. So damn soft.
He groaned and slid his mouth along her jawline, smiling to himself when she sagged against him.
Snowflakes fell from above, little intricate pieces of art that drifted onto their heads, and tickled their skin. He kissed several large flakes from her cheek and then captured her mouth again, this time settling her between his legs and holding her head steady with his hands.
She tasted like peppermint and felt like heaven in his arms, and as he kissed her there underneath a perfect winter night, something inside him broke open and filled his chest with heat. Everything inside him tightened and he froze for a moment, unsure of what exactly it was he was feeling.
“Matt, let’s go inside,” she murmured against his mouth. “I need you naked right now.”
He kissed her once more, his mouth moving over hers as his hunger grew. When he felt so damn tight he couldn’t stand it, Matt grabbed her hand and led her up to his porch and into his house.
There was still music playing somewhere and he’d barely managed to get the door closed when she slammed against him and pushed him back against the wall. Her hands were everywhere. His chest. His ass. His crotch.
“Dammit, Grace. You gotta hold on or I’m not going to—“
She held her finger against her mouth and he froze because the look in her eyes, the desire and need, was something to behold and he ached knowing it was all for him.
Grace tossed her coat and fell to her knees.
“Grace,” he croaked. Sweat beaded his forehead and sprouted along his top lip. There was no way he could last. Not with his dark haired angel on her knees in front of him.
“Grace,” he managed to say again.
“Shut up, Hawkins.” Her hands were inside his jeans.
“And let me…” She pulled down his zipper and his cock sprang free.