Page 31 of A Vegas Crush Collection #3

scandalizing the neighbors

Devon

I’ve been up since dawn, obsessing over budget worksheets. I woke up feeling sick and anxious, worried about how I can have two babies and two jobs and a baby daddy who can’t tell anyone he’s my baby daddy.

I sent Grant away after getting home from the hospital last night.

He helped me to the couch, got me some water, and sat with me for a long time.

We didn’t talk much. Instead, I just put my head on his shoulder and held his hand, comforted by his presence.

Grant is a big man. He’s tall and broad and manly, but seeing him reduced to tears when he learned he’d be a father?

It only confirmed what I already knew about him in my heart—Grant Gerard is the best of men.

The kind of man I want to have with me on this journey.

However, it’s never just that simple. We still work together.

We still need to think about how we’ll navigate what could be an embarrassing and stressful situation for both of us.

I found myself thinking a lot about whether I could walk away from the Crush and seriously throw myself into my own business.

And at some point, after we got back from the hospital, I felt exhausted and needed some space to rest and think, so I told Grant I needed to be alone and sent him home.

I know he wanted to stay with me, but I just needed some solitude to process all the thoughts swirling in my head.

A little space to begin to sort through and figure things out.

So here I am, in the tank top and underwear I wore to bed, my hair piled in a rat’s nest on top of my head, glasses perched on my nose.

I did sleep some, but I tossed and turned a whole lot more.

When I couldn’t stand it anymore, I got out of bed and pulled up my budget spreadsheets, looking for a clear message that perhaps I could leave my full-time job and set out on my career journey on my own—earlier than planned.

The doorbell rings, pulling me from my assessments. At this hour, it’s probably just Gia coming by to check on me before setting out on her morning run. I shuffle to the door and swing it open, but it’s not Gia I find at my doorstep.

It’s Grant, looking as mouthwatering as ever in black athletic shorts, a Crush T-shirt, and running shoes.

It’s Grant also looking rather surprised by the sight of me answering the door, barely dressed.

His eyes darken, sweeping every inch of my body, from my bare feet to the messy pile on top of my head. My whole body tingles, and I feel my cheeks heat under his scrutiny. Rooted in place, I’m unable to move simply from the intensity of his stare.

“Why do you always seem so shocked at how you affect me?” he asks, the back of his finger tracing what I assume is the blush covering my cheeks.

At a loss for words, I stammer, saying something about looking like shit, not sleeping very well, and working on budget spreadsheets. I end my lame-ass rambling with an even lamer, “I don’t know.”

Grant leans in and whispers, “Well, then.” Suddenly he’s closed the gap between us, one of his hands at the base of my neck, the other at the small of my back.

He kisses me, and I melt, my body instantly sinking into him, feeling the press of an erection growing behind his shorts.

“You’re so fuckin’ sexy to me. Dressed up or just out of bed, you’re a goddess.

I want you so badly, all the fucking time,” he growls against my ear between urgent kisses.

The sound of a throat-clearing has us pulling apart quickly, like two teenagers caught making out by their parents.

I look over Grant’s shoulder to find my elderly neighbor, clearly shocked by our indecent display.

“Sorry, Mrs. Winters.” Hiding behind Grant’s big body, we shimmy quickly inside my apartment, shutting the door with a bang.

I can’t help but giggle. “We just scandalized poor Mrs. Winters. I hope she’s okay.”

“Well, it’s probably the most action she’s seen in a long time.” Grant’s grin is absolutely devilish.

“It was quite the show.” I purse my lips at him.

“We probably could’ve done better, though.” He licks his lips at me.

I cock my head at him coyly. “Guess we’d better keep practicing, then.”

Not missing a beat, Grant has me pressed against the wall again, kissing me—no, more like devouring me with wild kisses.

I can hardly get enough as I cling to him, my hands grasping at his shirt, desire blooming in my belly.

He hauls me up into his strong arms and carries me into my bedroom, where my blankets and sheets remain rumpled from my restless night.

Grant pushes everything out of the way and lays me on the bed, pushing my tank top up to bare my breasts, my nipples already rock hard, jutting shamelessly for attention.

“God, you’re perfect,” he murmurs against my skin, mouthing and teasing at my sensitive, swollen breasts until I’m arching and moaning and nearly ready to come just from this small bit of busy attention.

Grant’s fingers play first along the outside of my soft cotton boy shorts, but it’s not long before he slips beneath to tweak my clit, feeling the slippery wetness gathering already between my folds. My hips push up to meet his ministrations, nearly begging for his fingers to sink inside me.

I’m moaning nonsensical sounds, feeling wild but tamed, held in his strong arms while he works me to a frenzy. My clit pulsating harder the closer I soar toward my impending climax, my inner walls tightening almost violently around his fingers.

Still holding two long fingers deep inside me, my whole body stiffens. I forget to breathe. The orgasm he forces from me begins to overtake all my senses.

Grant stares into my eyes as he makes me come—spectacularly and hard—pinned beneath him in my bed, fucked to within an inch of my life by his glorious, magical fingers.

I’m sure it was the best stress reliever, bar none, he could’ve given to me right now. Thank you, sir, may I have another? When I settle, he continues to kiss me deeply, literally devouring me with long, erotic kisses making me feel treasured and cherished.

“I want to make love to you, Devon,” he says against my lips. “Is it safe?”

“I think so. Just be gentle?”

“Gentle wasn’t where my mind was. Fuck, sorry. Your stitches?”

“Can’t feel a thing.” Who knew orgasms could be better than pain medication?

He smiles, and good God, is that a sinfully wicked smile he has in his arsenal. No wonder I can’t resist him.

I watch as he peels away his clothing, first his shirt, baring his broad, toned chest and abs. I can’t imagine ever not wanting to look at him, at his body. He just does things to me. Makes me feel safe and wanted. He makes me ache.

Naked, he crawls onto the bed, pulling my underwear down over my legs, another rakish grin on his face. “I’ve missed you,” he says before dipping his head to kiss my belly.

Just the feel of his lips on my skin makes me moan. “I’ve missed you too,” I tell him as he kisses his way to each of my breasts.

He continues trailing kisses up to my neck, over my jaw, to the shell of my ear, whispering hotly, “What do you want, Devon? Tell me what you want.”

“You, Grant.” I breathe. “I want you to make love to me like you said. I need to have you inside me right now.”

“Don’t have to mess with condoms anymore since I already knocked you up.” He winks wickedly.

“Hmm, you’re very proud of that fact. And here you thought your swimmers didn’t swim. Twins though, Mr. Gerard. You’re a damn stud,” I tease him right back.

His eyes grow hooded as he stares down at me, his powerful body possessing mine, ready to fuck me. “This stud can’t wait to be inside you bare, with nothing between us, just me”—he aligns the tip of his cock to my center—“and you,” he grunts, filling me all the way up.

He claims my body in a way that’s possessive and demanding, yet loving. I’m crying as he moves inside me, still kissing me deeply in a measured rhythm with the powerful thrusts of his cock deep into my depths.

My hands roam down the bare skin of his back, feeling the flexing muscles of his sculpted ass pumping into me. When I urge him to move faster, he laughs against my mouth. “What happened to gentle?”

“Maybe somewhere in the middle?”

Another chuckle as he picks up the pace, moving in and out in a tempo that creates such good friction, his pelvis striking just at the right spot.

When I come, it’s with such force that I lose my breath for a moment, stars exploding like fireworks on a summer night.

Grant is right behind me with his own climax, his kisses growing harder, his tongue spearing into my mouth with more possession than before, if that’s even possible.

A second orgasm immediately follows my first, a trek to the top of the tallest mountain, and then a fall from unimaginable heights.

And when I cry out, Grant falls with me, roaring out his pleasure, still pinning me to the bed with his pounding cock, growling how good fucking me makes him feel, vowing he’ll never stop fucking me, telling me how good my cunt feels coming around his cock.

It’s a wild romp of sex and orgasms with my very own dirty talker in the bedroom, whispering filthy things to me the whole wonderful way.

And it’s everything I needed from him at this moment.

Grant’s heartbeat thumps wildly beneath my cheek as I rest on his chest. It should be beating wildly. I think he just fucked me to within an inch of his life.

I loved every second of it, and I’m certain he did too.

He never stops touching me, stroking up and down my back with his fingertips, the sides of my breasts, the swell of a hip, causing my skin to erupt in gooseflesh.

I’m so boneless afterward, it takes all my energy just to get up and head into the bathroom to clean up.

Sex is definitely a lot messier without a condom.

Grant follows me in, wets a washcloth, takes to his knees, and gently cleans me.

Then, he puts his hands at my hips and kisses the small swell of my belly.

I expect this to be a quiet moment, a moment of reflection or of reverence, but instead, he buries his face between my legs, his tongue flicking against my ultra-sensitive clit, my already swollen folds.

It’s so sensitive, in fact, I nearly can’t handle the sensations.

I cry out, shaking my head, grasping at the countertop behind me.

There is no purchase to be found, though, and I’m left helpless as he makes me come again and again.

When the climaxing finally stops, Grant stands, picks me up, and carries me back to bed.

I know things shouldn’t ever be said when you’re basking in the aftereffects of orgasms, but for some reason, the bliss I’m feeling seems…

safe. I feel safe in this man’s arms, and I don’t seem to have any doubts that if he says he’ll stand by my side, then he will do exactly that.