The Perfect Stroke (Lucas Brothers #1)(20)

“Thank f*ck,” he groans, putting his hands under my ass and pulling me up his body. I wrap my legs around his waist and hold onto his shoulders.

“What are you doing?”

“Waiting for you to tell me which way is your bedroom, and if you don’t hurry, then I’m going to f*ck you against the wall because that’s how much I need you right now.”

“First door on your left down the hall,” I tell him, grinning.

I guess food will have to wait.





My patience is almost at an end and I don’t want to scare her by acting like a Neanderthal, but there’s no way I can stop it. I’m usually smooth with women, but CC is unlike any woman I’ve ever known. Hell, her effect on me is unlike any before her. She lights a fire inside my blood and whenever she’s near, I can feel it burning.

I devour her lips as we make it to the door of her room. I kick open her door and it slams against the inside wall, bounces back enough that I have to push against it again as we cross the threshold. The bed is just about five feet in front of me, but that’s five feet too much. I turn and push her against the wall. For a second I gain my sanity enough to worry I’ve hurt her, but she’s busy pulling my shirt up my body. I alternate bracing her body with one hand and letting the wall support her while I get the damn thing off, grinning as she throws the shirt to the floor.

“So much better,” she breathes. “God, I love your body.”

“It’s all the swinging and driving balls into holes,” I tell her.

She lightly runs her nails on the middle of my chest, playing with the fine line of hair I have there, then stops to look up at me. She’s laughing, her eyes shining, her lips in a full smile that pull apart as the laughter bursts out.

“Maybe I’m starting to gain a new appreciation for golf.”

“Hold tight baby and I’ll make sure you do.”

Her hands move up my body slowly and link behind my neck. “I’m holding,” she whispers right before she brings her lips back to mine. I capture them, sucking on them, moaning at the burst of flavor that hits my tongue—strawberries from her lip gloss, and a sweetness in flavor that reminds me of sugar and candy. It’s a taste I associate solely with CC now, a taste that has become my one addiction.

A taste I have to get more of.

Her tongue wraps around mine, mating with it and feeling so perfect that I groan. Never. Never has a woman got to me the way that CC continually does. That means something, I’m sure, but right now, I don’t have the energy or the spare brain cells to think about it.

“We need you out of these damned clothes,” I mutter when we break away and I finally drag air back into my lungs. She grins at me, her hands going to unbutton her pants.

“Let me down,” she breathes. My fingers tighten into her ass, automatically fighting the command. I don’t want her out of my arms. Where CC is concerned, I find I react very much like a caveman. “Gray,” she whimpers, her hips thrusting against me. Her need is heavy in her voice. “I need to feel my skin against yours.” Her words somehow seep through the fog in my brain, the same brain that demands I take her but is too lust-filled to work out the logistics.

I gather her one last time against my body, angling and tilting her so that her * is aligned perfectly with my dick and then I grind into her. Even through our clothes, I know she can feel how hard and ready I am. I want her to know exactly what she’s doing to me. Her hands have moved and I can feel her nails bite into my back as she struggles to remain tightly pressed against me—not wanting to let go—just like me. Finally, she takes control and pushes away from me and I’m forced to set her on the floor. My hands feel empty and I’m tempted to keep one hand on her as she undresses, except I need my own clothes out of the way. I immediately go to work unbuttoning my pants and pushing them from my body. I kick them somewhere, not really giving a f*ck. I’m just thankful I had the foresight to take off my shoes when I first got here.

When I look back up, CC has already undressed except for her bra and panties: little pieces of dark blue silk that cling to her body and highlight the creamy white skin perfectly. I don’t think I took the time to admire her body the first time we were together. That was a haze of lust and the buzz of alcohol. This is different. This time the lust is still here, but I’m stone cold sober and the truth is: I’ve never seen a more beautiful woman. Everything about her is perfect from the way her hips curve out into an hourglass figure to the perfect rise of her breasts, which move with every hard breath she takes and overfilling that silky bra. Perfect and mine to play with.

I drop to my knees in front of her without a second thought. I’ve made a lifetime of making women get on their knees to please me. This is just another thing that sets CC apart.

“Gray?” she whispers.

Her hands go to my shoulders. They feel small against the muscles there—small but perfect. My arms go around her, pulling her into me, and I kiss her stomach. Warm, soft skin brushes against my lips and I taste her delicate, sugary sweetness with a kick of something that hits my system and grabs hold of me like nothing before—and, I fear, nothing after. Pure CC.

“Shh…” I quiet her, letting my lips trail down the small area to the rim of her panties and breathe in the scent of her desire. Slowly, I push her panties down, revealing her * to me. I kiss down one hip and then the other. Greedy woman that CC is, her fingers curl into my hair and she does her best to pull me tight against her. I resist, but only because I plan on showing her who exactly is in charge. I push her underwear down, letting them pool at her ankles. “Step out of them, sweetheart,” I encourage her, moving my hands along the backs of her legs. Once she does, I push my head between her legs. She widens her stance for me, but growls in frustration when I don’t immediately give her what she wants. Instead, I find myself kissing along the side of her knee, tasting the skin there. The taste is much the same as her sweet lips with just a hint of salty flavor mixed in. I run my tongue along her thigh, moving closer to the center of her—the part where we both want my mouth. I know she feels the same because of the way she’s trying to ride the side of my head, thrusting that sweet * towards me. She’s hungry and full of need and I’m going to make sure I give her exactly what she wants… except it’ll be at my pace.