Wicked E-Book

Ashley Bostock

• Herausgeber: Ashley Bostock
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021

Beschreibung

Grace Patterson is not my type. Not only is she a second-grade teacher at the local elementary school, but she's perfect, like untouchable perfect. Everything is please and thank you and Maverick - no one calls me that. And when I allow her to bring that mutt into my house, all I hear is “Did you miss me, baby? Are you hungry, baby? I’ll take care of you, baby.” What I didn’t mention is that she's my best friend's little sister and I’m about twelve years older than her, which makes her completely off-limits. So why I'm suddenly wanting what I can't have is beyond me.

Maverick Carter also known as Cap, is the only man who can help me when I find a stray dog on my way home from school. He isn’t the easiest to have a conversation with but since my apartment doesn’t allow pets, I need him. For now. Until I can figure out what to do with my new-found dog. In the meantime, it's best if I remember he rides a metal monstrosity of a motorcycle and wears a hideous vest with obscene patches all over it and not the way he sounds when I overhear him having sex with another woman. If only it were that easy.

Leseprobe

Wicked

Love in Love Star

Ashley Bostock

Copyright © 2017 by Ashley Bostock

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are being used fictitiously. Any references to such are entirely coincidental and are used for merely the telling of a fictional story.

Bella

Keep your wild, vibrant spirit forever. Don’t ever stop ruling your kingdom of animals. Everything I do is for you!

Contents

Not To Miss!

1. Grace

2. Maverick

3. Grace

4. Maverick

5. Grace

6. Maverick

7. Grace

8. Maverick

9. Grace

10. Maverick

11. Grace

12. Maverick

13. Grace

14. Maverick

15. Grace

16. Maverick

17. Grace

18. Maverick

19. Grace

20. Maverick

Epilogue

Irresistible Billionaires

Not To Miss!

Also by Ashley Bostock

About the Author

Not To Miss!

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One

Grace

On any other day in Lone Star, the sun would have been perfect. Welcomed, even. But on this particular Friday afternoon, sweltering heat never looked good on me, especially when I had somewhere to be. The humidity threatened to turn my straight blonde hair into a curly mess and I dreaded the fact that I was most likely getting sweat stains on my new white blouse.

Thank God, the school week was over. Thank God, summer was not too far away. Two weeks and thirteen hours, to be exact. I could break that down into minutes, but it seemed a little presumptuous, considering the principal of my school could keep us for two whole days after school got out. That was never a good thing.

If I didn’t have to decorate for my parents’ dinner party, I wouldn’t care about the curly hair or the sweat dripping down my back. But as it was, I was due to be at their place in an hour and it was almost a thirty-minute drive away.

Yap! Yap! I turned around at the high-pitched sound. Ohhh. A tiny dog. Maybe a Maltese? I couldn’t be sure. What I was sure of was that she was lost. Or homeless. Her white coat looked like she’d been through the ringer, all dusty and grimy. A matted clump of hair stuck out where both her ears flopped against her head. Poor thing.

I wanted to pick her up. I couldn’t, I didn’t have time. My father would blow a gasket if I was late. They were expecting me to help get everything decorated and set up and he’d chew me out if I wasn’t there on time. It didn’t matter if you were ten or twenty-seven or even thirty, whether you were his kid or not, when Walter Patterson got mad, he wasn’t afraid to let you know.

“I’m sorry little baby. I can’t help you. Go home.”

I turned back around, determined to ignore the pup, and it continued to follow me. Oh no. What was I going to do? The dog didn’t even have a collar and the way she looked led me to believe no one was looking for her. It tugged on my heart. I couldn’t ignore her and leave her out here. Even more so because when I stopped, she stopped. When I went, she went.

“Come here, puppy.”

I crouched down despite my skirt and heels and held my hand out for the little dog. Her dark little eyes assessed me, debating if I was on the right side of good or bad. She inched closer, sniffed my hand, then stepped back. Yap!

“Come here. I won’t hurt you.”

She did the same thing, sniffed me and stepped back. Only this time she didn’t bark. That was a good sign. I wiggled my fingers, hoping she’d come forward one more time and instead, she launched herself onto my legs and chest and I caught myself with the palm of my hand on the sidewalk, stopping myself from toppling over completely.

Her paws were soaked.

My white top was now covered with various blotches of brown…err, gray, muddy-type stuff all over the clothes I wasn’t going to change because I didn't have the time. But now what was I going to do? Inevitably, I knew I would be late and that wouldn’t give the apple pies I’d baked enough time to warm and what hell would my father bless me with this time?

Great. My day couldn’t get any worse

Or could it? The completely unnecessary roar of a motorcycle bellowed down the street, making my already squeamish insides rattle with something a lot less desirable. I had a good feeling I knew exactly who was driving that damn thing. Much to my dismay, the motorcycle slowed as it got closer to me, the driver not even glancing in my direction as he turned directly in front of where the pooch and I were half sprawled out on the sidewalk. Maverick Carter, one of my older brother’s best friends, slowly guided his metal beast up onto the curb and into the driveway of the house we sat in front of and I knew that my day really couldn’t get worse than this. My father be damned.

The obtrusive sound echoed out into oblivion as the pup and I watched his every move, as if she too couldn't fathom why something so noisy had to be in the near vicinity of us. Maverick’s leather-covered leg stretched out, the toe of his boot kicking down the bike’s kick stand. Once righted, he swiftly edged himself off the sleek black and chrome bike, and his eyes turned directly to me and my new-found friend.

Something uncomfortable and intriguing ran through my blood. I took him all in as he stood there watching us. The black, dirty boots and the worn leather, chaps - I think, he wore over his blue jeans and the black vest with its frayed edges and patches. That last one I knew because of the books I read. His face wasn't clean shaven like a man’s should be; slivers of gray and brown hair grew from his chin and along the line of his jaw. His menacing eyes watched me, too. He seemed to be assessing why I was on the ground, my palm scraped from trying to catch myself, my white top dirty and this little no name pup in my lap—well the gentlemanly thing to do would be to offer me help, ask if I was okay, but I didn't think Maverick fell into that category.

I don't know what category he was in but from all the motorcycle club books I’d read, he definitely wasn't all chocolates and roses. He wore a black cap on his head, a do-rag that looked like a swimmer’s cap to me, except for the ties at the back. I couldn't fathom why my heart was racing as fast as it was. Probably because he was a little intimidating. Add to that, the fact that I had to be at my parents’ place, well yes, that was why I was a mess.

“Must be my lucky day. Finding a damsel in distress in my driveway. On her knees, even.”

I ignored his crude remark.

“This dog jumped on me,” I said in way of explanation, further inspecting my scraped palm as I tried to regain some sense of balance and order.

He burst with laughter and I wrinkled my brows at him. Seriously. What was so funny?

“You got knocked down by that little mutt?”

“She’s not a mutt. She’s a Maltese, I’m pretty sure. And no. I went down to pet her and she caught me off guard. I fell back-”

He cut me off, “Where’d you find her?”

“She started following me. I don't know who she belongs to. Do you?”

“How the hell would I know?”

“This is your neighborhood.”

“Do I look neighborly to you?” He folded his arms over his broad chest and, again, that weird little tremor of something swam through my veins. He sauntered the few steps from where he parked to where I stood clutching the dog.

I swallowed, “No, actually you don't. You look like a…bad neighbor.”

“Being neighborly is overrated.”

Yup. Bad neighbor. It was clear what kind of man he was. The kind who didn't help a female up off the curb. The kind who roared around a small town in a vehicle that could easily be compared to nails on a chalkboard.

“What are you going to do with the damn thing?” he asked.

“I don't know. My apartment building doesn't allow pets and I'm going to be late to my parents’ party. Thatcher’s too far away for me to take it there. I still have to change and I have apple pies that are going to be tepid.” I glanced down at the mess of me and the dog. “I need your help. You take the dog.”

I held the tiny creature out in front of me, her legs running air circles as she tried to get away.

“Hell no. Stay away from me with that thing.” He turned around and walked up his driveway toward his house.

I followed. I was desperate.

“Maverick, please.”

He turned so swiftly, I almost toppled into him. “It's Cap.”

“It's Maverick. I’m not calling you by your biker name. Please help me. You know how my dad can get. He’s going to kill me. I was already on a tight schedule and now, I’m in a major time crunch. Plus, I have to change now.”

His formidable eyes dropped to my blouse, assessing every paw print, every smear of dirt, as if he simply couldn't comprehend the trouble I was in. I felt exposed. Thankfully my top had a scalloped neck instead of being low cut. He would be the man who had no qualms about looking down it. My overly-large breasts were enough of a confidence issue, with the way I couldn’t find tops to fit properly, and men staring I didn't need to add a show with it.

“Maverick,” I pleaded.

His eyes met mine and for the first time in my life, standing this close to him—not a stranger as he was my brother’s good friend, yet someone I didn't know well—I noticed how vivid his brown eyes were—whiskey-colored, with pinpricks of gold and an even darker brown mixed into them and they were assessing me, reading into my soul. Something close to attraction brewed inside me.

He blinked, “How long do you have to be at your dad’s?”

Too long. “A while. It's a party. I have to set everything up.”

“My yard is fenced. You can put it back there. I’ll meet you here at ten for you to get it.”

None of that was going to work. Yet, I couldn't keep the dog at my apartment. There was simply no way. The rules said no pets. What was I going to do at ten once I picked her up? Maybe I could convince him to keep her overnight.

“Can we meet at 8:30?”

“No. I have plans. I’ll be here at ten.”

“I usually go to bed at 9:30 though.”

Once again Maverick’s head fell back in laughter and it annoyed me. He could be so rude at times.

“I thought you had a party?”

“I do. But I’ll be home by eight.”

He laughed again, “How old are you, Grace?”

“Twenty-seven. Why does that matter? What are you, forty-two?” The words tumbled out of my mouth. Seriously? Why did I even ask? This initiated conversation and I didn’t want conversation nor did I want to know. Not to mention the time crunch I was in.

“Thirty-nine. Old to you.”

Yes. Old to me. Twelve years older than me. I took in his lean body, covered in leather, and how the black shirt beneath his vest showcased the ridges of muscle along his chest – nothing I hadn’t seen before – yet was suddenly noticing in a completely different light. He didn't seem old. He seemed young. Wild. Free. Rough. His face, although covered in stubble, was fresh and free of any wrinkles. Yes, he seemed like a lot of things, but I would never use old to describe him. I didn't say this though. Instead I accepted defeat and held out the dog. It took her a second to smell him and even less than a second before she determined he was a friend. Traitor.

“Fine. Ten o’clock. Don't be late.”

“Thank you, Maverick,” he sing-songed behind me.

“I’ll thank you tonight if you still have her and she’s still alive. Please, get her some water.”

Once I'd managed to clean up and get to my parents, I did everything that was required of me. I set fourteen table settings, which I'd mimicked from an article out of Country Times Magazine – no table cloth, burgundy napkins with cream colored napkin rings, and matching placeholders on my parents’ rustic oak dining table – it was perfect. For centerpieces, I used short, round vases that were almost a foot in diameter and found the largest roses I could, discarding the stems to let them float in the water. For an extra effect, I added a wide, single birch branch to each vase. Voila.

I wasn’t staying for dinner. I wasn’t technically invited. I couldn’t mess up the table by adding an odd number of table settings. My parents had still been MIA as I’d quickly hauled all the decorations out of the butler’s pantry and began to decorate. Now, I stood in their expansive kitchen watching Mabel create dinner. She wore a long flowy brown dress that hid her slender figure and she’d put a flower pin in her gray hair. My parents must have invited someone important over for Mabel to put on her pretty dress and matching hairpin!

Whatever she was creating smelled amazing and even though I wanted to stand by her at the stove and peek, I knew she wouldn’t let me. It was a task that had me breathless. She was amazing. I could decorate but I couldn’t cook like Mabel. I liked it, but my passion was baking. Mabel had worked for my parents since I was four-years-old and for as long as I’ve known her, she’s never brought up her family. If she was getting dolled-up for someone, did that mean she wasn’t married? Mabel wasn’t one to talk a whole lot and I never questioned her. Shame on me.

“What are doing, Grace? Don’t you have somewhere to be instead of in here watching an old lady cook? I thought you’d be baking for the auction.”

“I have plenty of time. Besides, I’ve made more apple pies than I can count. I’m not worried.” Lone Star’s annual Founder’s Day Picnic in the Park was a week away and I had been picked as an entrant for their pie auction. The competition allowed for only ten entrants, making it Lone Star’s most-coveted competition. People would bid on a pie and the pie with the highest bid would win the annual ribbon, “Lone Star’s Pie Champion.” Then, the person who bid the highest bid out of all ten pies, got to choose which charity all the raised money would go to.

“Good luck. I hope your pie gets the highest bid.”

“Me, too. Do you have family, Mabel?”

“Of course, child. Why are you asking such a ridiculous question?”

“It just occurred to me that I’ve known you my whole life and I’ve never known whether you have family. Are you married?”

“I was a long time ago. My Gerard is in Heaven now. Now, child, don’t you have somewhere else to be?”

Setting thoughts of Mabel and her husband aside, I thought of Maverick and my newly found dog and the hassle of what I was going to do with both of them, especially when all I could think about was going home and getting back to my book. My sweatpants cried out to me from their spot in my drawer and my boobs begged me to toss my bra.

“No. I found a dog today. My apartment doesn’t allow pets though. I’ve been racking my brain all night trying to come up with a plan for her.”

“Where is the dog now?”

“With,” I almost said my friend but that wasn’t accurate. What was Maverick to me? My older brother’s much older best friend. Even though I’ve known him for a long time, I wouldn’t say we were on a completely friendly basis. More than acquaintances but less than best buds. Mabel knew him. I wasn’t sure what her opinion of him was exactly. I decided it was in my best interest not to ask. When I glanced at her standing at the stove, she had her neck turned toward me waiting for my answer. I cleared my throat, “With Maverick Carter.”

“He’s always been a nice man. The dog can’t stay with him until you’re able to take it to a shelter?”

“What? A shelter? I can’t do that. I could never do that, Mabel.”

“Do you have much of a choice?” she asked.

“Not if I stay in my apartment,” I sighed.

“Why don’t you see if Maverick will keep the dog. Then you could take care of it there.”

“What do you mean? Like, go over there and feed it and let it out? That kind of thing?”

“Why, yes. The dog could live with Maverick and you could take care of it. Of course, this is while you try to find the owner, right?”

The owner. Right. “I don’t know if anyone wanted her. Her coat was matted and dirty. She was scared of me at first.”

“Did you feed her?” Mabel asked curiously.

Oh, my gosh! “No,” I exclaimed. “I better go so I can find some puppy food for her. What if she’s starving?”

“Now settle down. Go out onto the back patio and inside the blue bin is some dog food. Take some for tonight and see if she’ll take it.”

“You’re a life-saver. I can’t believe I didn’t think about feeding her. I was in such a hurry to get here to set up and she got me dirty, I had to change-”

“Grace, the dog food.” She handed me a plastic bag and I hustled out of the kitchen and onto the patio, quickly finding the blue bin, where I filled the bag she gave me.

“You’ll be sure to take the apple pies out of the warmers, right? They’ll get dry if you leave them in too long.”

“Child, yes. I have it covered.”

“Thanks, Mabel.” I kissed her cheek and headed toward town.

I could ask Maverick if the puppy could stay with him. I don’t think he would like it. He’d probably laugh at me again for suggesting such a ludicrous idea. I had no other choice. I could ask Thatcher to help. Since Maverick lived closer to me than Thatcher did, I’d use my brother as a last option. My gut told me no one wanted the little dog and I could keep her if I wanted. I’d rather convince Maverick – even if that meant having to deal with his rudeness – that way, I could potentially see the puppy as often as possible.

I slowed to a stop along the curb near Maverick’s house. Even though he said he wouldn’t be home until ten, I figured I could go into his backyard and at least feed the dog. Surely, he wouldn’t mind that. I shut off the car lights, took the plastic bag Mabel had given me, and made my way up his driveway.

His porch light was on but the rest of the house looked dark, giving me comfort that I could quickly let myself into his yard and feed her. What was I going to call her? Even if someone came forward in the next few days with ownership, I felt like I still needed to call her something.

I opened the metal gate, grateful it didn’t squeak as I pushed it open. One of his neighbors calling the police on me for trying to break into his house was the last thing I needed.

His backyard was mostly dark, save for a light glowing from a curtained window. I didn’t immediately see the dog as I entered the back yard. Had he let her stay inside?

“Puppy,” I whispered.

I found her on his back porch, lying on the concrete next to a big, black grill. I was strangely happy at the little plastic bowl filled with water that he’d set out. When she saw me approach she jumped up and came toward me letting out her high-pitched bark.

“Hey, little girl.”

I swooped her up and sat on a metal chair that was off to the side of the porch. The faint glow of light from the window allowed for me to see her face. She was adorable. A part of me hoped no one was looking for her, despite how neglected she looked, and it was a long shot, but I hoped there would be a way I could keep her. I was already falling madly in love with her.

“Are you hungry? I brought you some food.”

She smelled the bag, her tail wagging incessantly as I opened it up and poured a few pieces of kibble into my hand. My heart skipped as I heard a murmur of voices, sure that they were coming from inside Maverick’s house. He wasn’t supposed to be here. Just as I was getting ready to stand, loud moaning started coming from the bedroom window.

Oh. My. Gosh.

I stilled, unable to believe my ears. Maverick was home? Not alone, by the sounds of it. The puppy stared at me and I realized she was waiting for more food. The right thing to do would be to get out of here before he realized there was a third wheel to his sex game. How horrifying would that be to have him know I not only overheard him having sex, but I stayed and listened?

However, the sounds kept coming and even though my mind told me to move, my butt stayed glued to the chair. That same unrecognizable feeling from earlier when I was watching him get off his motorcycle flooded my blood again.

I poured more dog food into my hand as a way to keep the puppy busy while I sat there, listening to the faint moans as they got louder. Something happened to my insides as I envisioned the scene going on in there. Maverick’s sweaty body as he pounded into her. Thinking of the romance novels I’d somehow gotten hooked on, I couldn’t help imagining the way he did things. In bed. And by the sounds of it, he must do it pretty damn well. Is that what Maverick liked? Hearing the exaggerated sounds of a woman as he fucked her? I don’t know why I was even questioning what he liked.

“You can’t tell anyone about this,” I whispered to the dog.

So many things were going through my mind right now, the least of which was getting caught. Not if I sat here and stayed quiet. No. My biggest concern was how hearing the sounds of this woman moaning and – oh my gosh, was that the bed? – thumping sounds were now coming from the window too and my concern in all of this, was how turned on I was getting. Not getting caught, but listening as Maverick fucked this woman into oblivion. I wasn’t about to address the small part of me that was wishing it were me in there. No. Never happening.

Maverick was too…rough. Too bad boy for me. Even if my insides were getting overheated at the thought of how he looked naked and how he did what he was doing in there. The way he must look beneath those sinful clothes he wore. How those steely eyes of his must look as he watched a woman orgasm. He wasn’t my type.

I wasn’t a virgin but come on, the way he was able to keep going, was a little exaggerated. The exaggeration could be summed up to the novels I’d managed to get hooked on. The perfect-looking guy—great hair, great body, well-endowed and wonderful personality—who was miraculously great in bed, too. Maverick was hot in a rugged way – his piercing whiskey colored eyes and what I could ever see of his blondish brownish hair. Of course, his bad boy persona probably made the women swoon. Obviously, I didn’t know what size of a cock he had, but I could attest to the fact that his personality needed work. More like his socialization skills.

More pounding.

Mmmm, maybe his socialization skills were fine, if the woman calling out “Cap” in the room was anything to go by. And judging from her praise, my guess was that he was sized just right. Cap ran his rough hands along the woman’s thighs as she smiled in approval. He forced her legs open as he growled, “I’m taking what’s mine.” The woman threw her head back as his large fingers trailed along her panty line.

“Tell me you fucking want it,” Cap demanded.

“I want it, Cap. Not your fingers. Your big cock.”

Cap unbuckled his belt, unzipped his jeans and his large manhood sprang out. He didn’t wear underwear. He pushed the woman’s panties to the side exposing her wet lips as he stroked himself.

“What are you waiting for?” the woman asked him.

“Turn around,” he told her. In one swift movement the woman was on her knees, her ass high in the air.

Cap slipped himself along the woman’s wet folds, coating himself with her juices. Holding the panties to the side with one hand, he gripped her hips and shoved himself into her. The woman let out a cry as Cap relentlessly pounded into her.

The dog nudged my hand, bringing me back to reality. What was I doing? Imagining Cap in my very own romance novel. My heart thundered in my chest amidst the extravagant moaning and I poured more kibble into my trembling hand. My panties were drenched and I casually brushed a palm over my nipple confirming my suspicion that they were hard as rocks.

I shouldn’t be here. I couldn’t tear myself away. I squinted at my watch. I’d been here exactly nine minutes. How long could this go on? My sexual experiences – the sex act itself – had ever only lasted a few minutes. Excluding Owen, of course, who lasted a good ninety-five seconds. Not long enough for me to even try to have an orgasm while having sex. I’d only slept with four men in my life and not one of them had given me an orgasm through intercourse.

It takes me a long time. They couldn’t last long enough for me and how could I blame them? It wasn’t their fault I couldn’t come timely. I don’t know what was wrong with me in that department but that was a whole other story in and of itself. Deep down I suspected it was my insecurity with my boobs that made me uptight once I was naked in the bedroom.

Seriously though, nine minutes? Ten and counting. Was this even normal? I bet he took Viagra. I’ve never even heard of anyone lasting this long.

I set the puppy down and she immediately went over to the water bowl and got her fill. I was seriously on the verge of satisfying the throbbing pain between my legs when the thumping sound and moaning stopped and I felt myself straining toward the window in the hopes that I would be able to hear more.

This was disgusting. I couldn’t believe I was doing this. Spying. Being a voyeur. What was it called when you listened to someone having sex? With Maverick Carter, nonetheless!

As my body, all achy and hot, pleaded for more, all I heard was more mumbling and I glanced at my watch. Fourteen minutes. Oh, boy. My clit throbbed, an ache so painfully good I looked forward to taking care of myself later. That, I could do with no problem. Being naked and under pressure, that seemed to create the problem.

I didn’t hear anything more and the puppy pawed at my leg, clearly wanting to be held. Sorry, puppy, I had more pressing matters there for a moment. I picked her up just as the bedroom light shut off and not much longer after that, I heard a car start and drive away. I still had another thirty minutes before I was supposed to be back here to meet Maverick and get the dog – which still had no name. I should name her voyeur or peepshow. Did those terms cover listening to someone have sex, too? Peeper. Little Bo Peep.

I needed to get out of here. No other lights came on inside his house so I took that as a good sign to sneak back out the gate and leave. It wouldn’t do me any good to sit around and get caught. I could only imagine Maverick’s reaction at finding me in his backyard, no doubt putting two and two together that I heard him having sex with some woman.

“Okay, Little Bo Peep. Remember, this has to be kept between you and me. I’ll come back soon.”

I set the puppy back down and made my way out the gate, still oddly turned on and in shock at what transpired. I unlocked my car and slid into the cool leather seat, trying to steady my heavy breathing as images of Maverick fucking a woman that, oddly enough, looked just like me flitted through my head.

Two

Maverick

I wanted nothing to do with pets. Dogs mostly. How the hell Grace Patterson talked me into keeping this tiny mutt for almost five hours was beyond me. It was because she was Thatcher’s little sister. Otherwise I would’ve told her to hit the road and take her ugly mutt with her. Instead, I bit my tongue and agreed to keep it long enough for her to figure out what she was going to do with it.

I told myself it had nothing to do with the way she sassily strutted along the sidewalk most days with her book bag slung over her shoulder walking to and from the school. Or that it had nothing to do with the fact that only a month ago, I learned she read motorcycle club romance books. Ride Me was the book I’d seen in her bag. A freaking motorcycle club romance. Out of all people, I couldn't believe she read them. The little sister that always wanted to tag along. Little Miss Pigtails.

Or now, Grace Patterson.

All grown up.

Fuck.

I’ve known Thatch for almost ten years. I used to work for his dad as a welder. Gracie had been a young teen when I started and could only be described as that pesky little sister of my best friend. She would linger around us, reminding us about following the rules. Thatcher, Mom said not to do that or Dad said to do it the other way. I don't know when she grew out of her pigtails – two matching ribbons, her blonde hair always parted down the middle and tied up. Anyhow, I’d never paid much attention to her as she’d gotten older, only recently, when she’d come back to Lone Star from college.

I’d seen her walking to school one morning and she was like a fresh, crisp breath of air. She hadn’t seen me watching her. In a drab, gray town, she was a bright yellow flower standing out. Her long blonde hair fluttered behind her as she walked with purpose toward her job at the elementary school. She was tall – almost as tall as me – enough that we were basically at eyelevel with one another. Not only were she and I cut from different cloths, we lived in completely different universes. One where her world was new and shiny, sunny and cloud-free, perfect and whole. Mine was fucking gray, incomplete and cloudy even on a good day.

Even though she was exhilarating and intriguing to me now, she was untouchable. Not because of how different we were, although that played a part, but as my best friend’s little sister – she was completely off limits. Thatcher would have my balls if he knew I’d just fucked Tiffany Dee hard and fast from behind and yet it was his prissy sister’s flowing blonde hair I’d imagined flying around that managed to make me come.

My doorbell rang and I ignored the slight hum of tension in my veins as I went to answer. It was Grace. She was here for the mutt. I smirked at the sight of her as I opened the door.

“What’s so funny?” she demanded.

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

“Ha ha. Speaking of killing…is my dog still alive?”

“Barely. There were a few times her yappy-assed barking had me considering finishing her off.”

She gasped, “You wouldn’t do that…Would you?”

I laughed again but didn’t answer her. Her blue eyes flamed bright against her light skin as she stood with her hand on her hip. Oh, man, definitely fire. Flames. Pure sass. Why hadn’t some preppy-boy school teacher scooped her up by now?

“Can I come in or are you going to make me walk around to the back?”

I held the door open and let her pass. She smelled sweet, sugary, and I backed up closer into the door for fear I’d reach for her. Even as my brain registered there wasn’t a fat chance in hell she’d even let me touch her.

“How was your dad’s?” I asked.

“Fine. The usual. I didn’t see them.”

“I thought they were having a party. How could you not see them?”

“Are you kidding? I might as well be a guest inside their home instead of their daughter. That’s how close we are. Actually, guests get treated better than me. Unless they want something. Like tonight. Then they butter me up and make themselves scarce when I'm around. So, back to your question: my dad’s house was fine. I decorated their dining hall, talked to Mabel and left. What did you do?”

Going for shock, cause I didn’t think she gave a damn what I did with my time and was only asking out of mere formality, I told her the truth. “I got laid.”

I could feel the heat from her cheeks as a fine shade of red flooded her face all the way to her neck, disappearing beneath the awful colored shirt she was wearing—that did nothing to showcase her tits. I smirked as she opened her mouth and then closed it. I tried not to grin at having jolted her.

“I know. I heard you.” She held her chin up and folded her arms beneath her chest.

“How in the hell did you hear me?”

“I was in your backyard. I thought you were gone,” she whispered just as I stepped toward her. Holy shit. So much for me shocking her. Here I’d been imagining her while I fucked Tiff and she was only a mere wall away?

“You said you would be back at ten. I came and fed the puppy. You could imagine my shock and horror when I heard what I did.”

“I bet you ran away as fast as you could.”

Her eyes flashed and her pupils enlarged, “No. I didn’t. Do you get off on all that exaggerated moaning? I mean, come on, it’s just a show.”

Holy shit again. She’d overheard alright. “It wasn’t exaggerated. That’s just how good I am.”

“Whatever,” she rolled her eyes at me and tried to back away. I grabbed onto her arm, not letting her get away.

“How long did you listen?”

“Fourteen minutes. Were you on Viagra?”

I laughed, “What?”

“Seriously, who lasts that long?”

Little Gracie listened to me fuck for almost fifteen minutes. She had to be wet and my dick hardened because of this thought and unlike before, I wasn’t so sure telling her that would shock her. Not anymore anyway. Had Grace never had a real man to fuck her longer than three minutes?

“I’m not having this conversation with you, Gracie.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Don’t call me Maverick.”

“I’m right. It was Viagra.” She rolled her eyes at me and suddenly I was having this conversation.

I stepped so close to her, that her tits were pressed against my chest and I could feel her body rise and fall with each breath she took. I could almost swear she was quivering.

“I don’t need Viagra. I can control myself long enough to get a woman off. Jesus, Grace, I'm not nineteen. Why is it even affecting you? Do you want to be that willing female? Do you want me to show you what it’s like to be with a real man and not some punk guy who can’t fuck you long enough for you to come? Or at the very least, not more than once.”

“And have sloppy seconds? Uh, no. No thanks.”

Even though I was wanting a rise out of her, I wasn’t expecting the flash of desire in her eyes. Her pupils dilated. Shit. Was she a hellcat underneath her cool exterior?

“It doesn't bother you that I was just having sex?”

She gave her typical Ice Queen stare and damn if I couldn't help myself, thinking what I could say or do to break that facade of hers. That damn mutt barking brought me out of the showdown and I backed away from Grace, reminding myself that even if I thought I just saw desire in her eyes, that her older brother would have my nuts on a chopping block if I so much as winked at her. Shit, he’d probably kick them now if he knew I’d just extended an invitation to get her off.

“Your mutt,” I told her.

“Yeah, about that,” she said, as if I hadn’t offered to fuck. “I was hoping that she could stay here. Please.”

“What? No fucking way, Grace. Uh-uh.”

“Please. It will only be for a little while. Until I either find her owner or figure out a way to keep her.”

“I’m not taking care of her.”

“You don’t have to,” she grabbed a hold of my arm, her eyes pleading with mine. “I’ll take care of her while she’s here.”

I cocked an eyebrow at her because this, I wanted to hear. “How?”

“I’ll come over and feed her and let her out to go to the bathroom. That kind of stuff.”

“No. I don’t like pets. I don’t like that damn dog. It’s not going to work. I work almost every day. So do you, in case you forgot.”

“School’s almost out. In two weeks, it will be over. Please Maverick,” she begged.

Her voice was a combination of panic and urgency. Her eyes were wide and scared. Fuck.

My control was already slipping because she looked so damn sweet and I had this odd sense to want to do what I could to protect her and her mutt.

“Why can’t you ask Thatcher?”

“Because I live closer to you than him. I could walk over here every day with no problem. I could let her outside and feed her on my way to school and then back. I’ll spend the time to see if she’s potty-trained. Tell me this can work.”

“I don’t want the damn mutt in my house.”

“It can’t stay outside all alone. It’s a people dog. She likes company. I’ll get her a crate to sleep in at night.”

“You think you’re going to come over any time you want?” She bit her lip and the movement had me momentarily distracted. But the look in her eyes…hell, she was a confident little thing. She did think she could come over any time she wanted.

“I was hoping. At least until I can come up with some kind of plan. Who knows, maybe someone will claim her by then. I’ll put up little posters around town and see if anyone comes forward. If so, there won’t be an issue. If not, then I’ll have to figure something else out.”

Against my better judgement, I found myself agreeing. Only because I wouldn’t mind seeing more of her cute ass. Even if it were just to look. “Fine. I’ll give you a key that way you can come and go as you please. One week from this moment, is all the time you got, Princess.”

I wasn’t prepared for the way she bounded into my chest, her arms going tight around my neck – it was a mutt – how could she be so excited? Her hair fanned across my cheek as she pressed her curvy body into mine. The sugary smell from earlier filled my nostrils and it was all I could do to wrap my arms around her waist and hug her back.

Screw it. This was a one-time thing, after all.

She was sweet and warm. She fit perfectly into my grip. I hadn't been this close to a woman in almost fifteen years – not a broad like Tiffany Dee. A woman. One who cared about manicures and pedicures and one who sat properly, who never went out in public without looking her best. A woman unlike all those broads up at the bar. Fifteen years. Not since Candi. She shifted in closer and I couldn’t dream up the way her body felt right, how she felt right. I had to remind myself she was Thatcher’s little sister. It was more difficult than it should have been. Especially when she turned her head and the warm, sugary air of her breath caressed my neck, “You won’t regret this, Maverick.”

I let go of her and turned to the back door ignoring the feeling in my chest and the voice whispering to me that somehow I would regret this. “Let’s bring your mutt inside.”

The dog bounded into the house, by-passing me completely like she knew what was good for her and halted at Grace’s feet where she put her front paws up on Grace’s legs, causing Grace to bend down and pick her up.

“What about tonight?” she asked. “I don’t have a crate for her yet.”

“Looks like she’s going home with you then.”