The Perfect Stroke (Lucas Brothers #1)(70)

“I’m going to come, Gray,” she whispers. I don’t have words to explain what it feels like when she says my name like that. My balls literally ache with the need to empty inside of her and make sure I’ve claimed every slick inch of her.

I regretfully remove my fingers, then wrap my arms around her to hug her close.

“Gray?” she questions, confused, her voice thick and filled with need.

“Shh, sweet lips. I’m just moving so I’m on the bottom and you control this ride,” I assure her. It just seems wrong to f*ck her hard when she’s against the hard ground.

She moans as we roll, but settles on top quickly. Her legs tighten around me as she seats herself atop me. She’s a f*cking goddess. The red hair framing her face and cascading down her bare shoulders shines bright as the sun seems to pick up every different shade she has. Her breasts are thrusting out, the nipples so hard it looks painful. Her curves and shape hypnotize me, especially as she reaches her hand between us, encircles my cock, and holds it at her entrance.

“I really love the way you think,” she tells me.

“Is that so?”

“Mmm… hmm,” she breathes, then lowers down on me so as to take my dick inside achingly slow. “And I really like being on top,” she adds.

By this point, I’m too far gone to respond. It comes out as an unintelligible grunt because the woman of my dreams is sliding up and down on my dick and I can do nothing but feel. She puts her hands on each of my shoulders and begins riding me hard, pushing up and down and driving us both fast towards the point of no return. I can’t look away from her, watching as pleasure shoots through her body and begins to overtake her. My body is so hot, it feels as if it’s on fire. I know I’m not going to be able to hold out much longer. My hands knead her hips as I encourage her to ride harder. She puts a twist in her movements that is nearly my undoing. I know I’m holding her so tight that I’ll probably bruise her. I thrust up, wanting to get as deep into her as I can.

And then… it stops.

“CC? Honey, you have me on the edge here. You need to move,” I grunt, a second away from taking control away from her. She doesn’t respond and her body is completely stiff. No more warm, soft, and pliant CC, and f*ck if that doesn’t suck. “CC?” I growl like a wounded animal because I’m way too far into this now for her to be backing out. I will if she insists, but I’m not going to like it one bit.

“Gray! Hush!” she whispers fanatically and so quietly that even as close as we are, I have to strain to hear her.

Immediately, concern fills me. I hold her close, trying to look around us to see what’s wrong. From where I’m at lying down, I can see next to nothing. I can’t see one thing that would have her in such a panic—and there is panic and fear in her voice. I don’t like that at all.

“What’s going on?” I ask, holding her and trying to sit up at the same time, but she’s pushing me down and sitting so stiffly, it’s making it impossible.

“Hush! We’re not alone!”

Shit. One of the other golfers must have ventured out here. I try to pull her down to reassure her that if we hide in the bunker, they will never know we’re here. I pull her head down on my chest. The shift in her causes my dick to move into her even farther and I groan. Fuck… there’s only so much a man can take.

“Hold still, baby, or I’m going to f*ck you regardless. I don’t care if there is another person around. Just be quiet like this and don’t move. He’ll take his turn and move on to the next spot on the course. Then, we can finish.”

“What are you talking about, you idiot?” she hisses in my ear.

“The person you said was here. The golfer. He can’t see us if we just…”

“It’s not another golfer, you freak!”

“What? Then what the f*ck are you going on about?” I ask her, frustrated and horny. Shit. I’m really, really horny.

“There’s a skunk!”

“A what?”

“A skunk! He’s about ten yards away from your head and if you don’t shut up, he’s going to… Oh, f*ck.”

“What?”

“Gray, he’s coming over here. What do we do?”

Shit. Fuck. Damn.





Panic has seized me. I feel it through every inch of my body. My heart is almost pounding out of my chest as I watch the little black and white terror stare at me. I mean we lock eyes. I always thought skunks looked so pretty. Flowers was my favorite character on Bambi. But watching as he stares at me, this animal doesn’t look cute. He looks mean, hateful, and mocking—almost as if he knows exactly what he interrupted and what he’s doing.

“Gray answer me!” I whisper again as fear threatens to consume me because the little shit is walking towards us. Strutting, even!

“Just hold still. If we don’t scare it, it won’t do anything. It will grow bored and leave.”

Really? That’s his advice? Okay, he grew up in Texas. Do they even have skunks out there? Because we do in Kentucky, and I’ve never known that advice to work. Of course, it’s usually hunters that I’ve known who’ve been sprayed, so there’s a chance he could be right.

As the skunk gets closer and closer, however, I start to experience serious doubts. “He’s getting closer,” I whisper in panic.