Page 87 of The Hero I Need


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The storm knocked loose plenty of leaves and branches, plus a few last footprints from Bruce I’d missed. I scratch them out of the ground carefully.

The girls head off on their ATVs a little while later, endless bundles of energy, saying they want to check the trails for more messes to clear.

Nope. They’re just ready for some play after all the yard work, and who am I to object?

They really are good kids, and I’m going to miss them like mad whenever Bruce and I leave.

“Want to join them?” Grady asks, towering over me.

I turn from watching them ride away and shake my head.

“No, let them play. I was just thinking what great kids you have.”

“Glad you agree,” he says, but he’s looking at me with a heavy, thoughtful gaze, his eyes flashing.

“What?” I ask, suddenly feeling shy.

He tilts his head slightly to one side. “I get the feeling you’ve been thinking about what happened last night. Maybe you’re changing your mind about a redo.”

Wowza.

So that’s what’s on his mind behind that lady-killer smile. Or he just reads my mind that easily.

I chide myself for not keeping things more hidden.

I shrug.

“After Bruce got out and everything, I bet you probably wondered if it was, well—”

“No. I don’t wonder. It wasn’t a mistake, Willow Wisp.” His growling confidence shocks me to the core as he slides his hands around my waist, bringing me closer. “And if you’re still game, I’ve been looking forward to starting up right where we left off all damn day.”

Oh, snap.

He doesn’t mess around, does he?

Reason one hundred on the grumpalicious-man-beast-o-meter why Grady McKnight might bring me to my knees. More than literally.

Excitement flares inside me, sending hot needles through my blood.

Yes, I’m hopeless, and that’s all there is to it.

“You...you’re sure?” It comes out like a whimper.

“Very.” The tip of his nose touches mine, and then our foreheads meet. “If you’re not, whatever. I’ll understand. I only fuck the willing, darlin’, and I want to fuck you like I need my next breath.”

Oh. My. God.

“I need you,” I admit, refusing to rethink it all again. I’ll have time to do all that after Bruce and I leave.

For now, my body does the talking, defying every reason in my head why this is epic trouble.

And every last bit of me agrees as his hungry lips catch mine in a long, savory kiss.

Though my knees are weaker when the kiss ends, the rest of me feels totally invigorated.

For the life of me, I can’t remember why I ever thought kissing him again would be a bad idea. Can’t imagine why I thought any of this wouldn’t feel enthralling.

“Gonna hit the shower. You do some thinkin’,” he says as we walk together, hand in hand toward the house. “I’ll grill burgers for supper.”

“Sounds delish. I’ll make a macaroni salad while you’re in the shower,” I say, trying not to stay stuck on the image forming in my mind.

Grady, buck naked.

His miles of muscle slick and wet.

That massive bulge I’d felt rubbing against me last night hanging down...or would it be very upright? Intense and pulsing and oh-so-ready to—

“Plan B: you could shower with me.” He lifts a brow while opening the front door.

My heart skips its next ten beats as I stumble inside.

“Oh, yes, I mean...argh! The girls won’t be gone that long, will they?” Blood rushes to my cheeks, at least what little I have left above the waist.

“Unfortunately, you’re right,” he grumbles, closing the door, trapping me against it. “But fuck, Willow...we have a few minutes. We have time.”

Time enough for my ruin, he means, and I’m going to love every scorching second.

His lips capture mine again and I arch into him, holding back nothing.

The heat, the need, the soaked desires rend the air between us like a current. Even hotter than last night.

It’s as close to desperation as anything I’ve ever experienced.

And I think it’s then that the very last walls of good sense come cascading down in rubble.

Our hands are everywhere—touching, feeling, caressing with a mission.

Grady’s next kiss is all growl, a fire to my windy moan.

My hands are in his hair, nails against his scalp, urging his lips lower, lower, straight to the target on my neck.

“Oh, shit,” I whimper, going slack against him, loving how his big hand squeezes my ass to hold me up.

So maybe it doesn’t matter if I’m only here for a short time.

This is what I want. What I need. What I’ll cherish.

The way he’s kissing my skin—my lips, neck, shoulders—tells me Grady needs it just as bad as I do.

Thunder pours out of him again.

“Willow, fuck, I don’t think I can wait.”

I can’t either, and we’re way past caring that it’s daylight and the girls could return anytime. Our animal lust has us racing for the stairs, where he pounces, flinging me over his shoulder.

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