Page 36 of Rough Road

“I’m afraid we’re going to turn into one of those old married couples.” She smiled at him for no other reason than she felt like smiling. And afraid wasn’t the right word. Hoping was definitely more accurate.

Grier grinned. And God she loved that grin. “As long as old married couples have a lot of sex, I’m okay with things being more normal.”

The cab driver chuckled, covered his mouth, and looked at Fiona in the mirror. “Sorry.” He continued. “My experience with being an old married guy is that the sex isn’t what could be described as ‘a lot.’”

Fiona shot him a wink. “I’m not worried.” She twisted just enough to drop her free hand into Grier’s lap and gave a little squeeze.

“I think we’re gonna be okay, too.” Grier leaned in for a kiss.

The driver turned down Hell Hollow road and bumped along until they pulled up in front of the clubhouse. Grier paid him then helped Fiona out of the car. She wanted him. For the rest of her life she would want him, but her need was urgent. The adrenaline from everything that had happened was starting to die away and peace settled over her. She just wanted him. Not for any other reason than she loved him more than she’d ever thought would happen for them. Before they walked inside, she stopped and turned. When his arms came around her, she knew there was no better place, no Mayberry she would love more than the one they’d created for themselves.

He kissed her forehead, her nose, then brushed his mouth over hers. This was where she belonged.

They walked inside, and Fiona looked around. This was home. Her legacy. The bar, the office she’d given her own special flair, the friends who came forward to welcome them back and hear the story. Max might have “gifted” her this job, but she’d earned the right to keep it.

It took hours. She’d told the story a hundred times, listened to Grier tell it a hundred more, but finally, they were alone in the room she’d claimed as hers a long time before she took over for Max. It was the place she stayed when she was scared, because knowing Hamilton was only a few rooms over made her feel secure.

She slipped out of her jeans and shirt then settled next to him on the bed. “This is nice.” She wasn’t talking about the room—it was okay, but not special—or the bed or the new blankets. She meant lying next to her freshly showered husband with his arms around her, his body pressed against hers.

“Better than nice.” His voice, low and sweet, sent ripples of pleasure through her. So much about him made her heart pitter-patter, but his voice warmed her almost as much as the hand stroking her arm.

She let her fingers drift over his stomach down to the towel at his waist, as she shifted to drag her lips across his chest then his throat, his chin, and his mouth. He tasted like warm whiskey and oranges, felt like her own slice of heaven.

She curled her fingers around his cock and smiled at his groan. “I think you saved my life today.”

“You saved mine first.” He ran his thumb over her mouth and smiled when she nipped at it. “Not just today. Way back in Belize when you showed up all dangerous and threatening my life.”

“Thought you liked it there.” She could barely think at all because he’d quit talking and started swirling his tongue over her nipple.

“Like it here better.” He pushed her onto her back and slid down her body. When he lifted her leg and laid it over his back, he looked up and grinned. “But this is my favorite.”

Oh, dear God. Her muscles tightened and coiled as he worked his tongue over her, and her body burned. He brought her to the edge then pulled back, teasing until she cried out and wiggled, using her legs to try to bring him back. “Please, don’t stop.”

“Don’t stop what?” She tried to raise up, to push his head back down, but he put his hand on her shoulder. “Be still.” He grazed his hand over her clit, and she cried out. “What do you want, Fiona?”

His voice purred through her. “Lick me.” He ran his tongue over her thigh. “Lick my pussy.”

And he did until she was writhing, the pressure so intense she couldn’t hold back. Her body exploded, and she gripped the blanket trying to anchor herself.

Fiona wanted more, wanted his dick inside her, his weight on top of her. She scraped her nails over his shoulder. “Now, Grier. Fuck me.” Her blood burned and her eyes fluttered shut.

He lifted himself over her, moved his hips to let his cock swipe over her, and she gasped. Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God. There was something magical about this man and that cock. And when he pushed inside her, she clung to him, clenched her muscles around him, smiled when he blew out a breath. Fair was fair and if he was going to try to make her heart explode, she could fight back a little.

He moved slowly, his gaze locked onto hers, and she pulled him down for a kiss that seared her inside and out. Every thrust drove her higher, building the passion, making her body tremble until again, she blew apart. This time she held onto him as he shuddered and groaned.

“If this is being one of those old married couples,” he kissed her forehead, “sign me up.”

“Oh yeah, me too.”

He rolled away but gathered her closer so she could lay her head on his chest. The steady beat of his heart lulled her, and if she never felt another moment of happiness, this one would see her through to the end of her life. “I love you.” His whispered words accompanied a kiss to the top of her head.

“I love you, too.” She gazed up at him. “You know, we have a day or so before Kye brings London home. I feel like we should make the most of it.” And all it took was one kiss to convince him.

* * *

Grier knocked on the bathroom door. They still had a truck to unload, beds to set up, and pizza to order. And since she’d left him in charge of moving their stuff into their new house, one with a white picket fence lined by rose bushes, and a big backyard, he was taking care of his chores in the order of their importance. “What do you want on the pizza?” She didn’t answer, so he knocked again. “Fiona.”

“Grier, go away. I’m busy in here peeing on a stick.”