Hell Breaks Loose (Devil's Rock #2)(60)

Her smile slipped. The mention of Charles felt like a splash of cold water.

He watched her, his eyes suddenly intent. Before she knew what was happening, he flipped her on her back, the great wall of him coming over her. “What’s the matter? Reality isn’t supposed to intrude? You said you’re in dire need of orgasms. I can only assume you’re not getting them from him.”

Mortified, she glanced away, but he grabbed her chin and forced her to meet his gaze.

“I don’t want to talk about him.”

“Why not?” He angled his head, a dangerous glint in his eyes as he stared at her. “Feeling too guilty?”

“No.” She wiggled under him, trying to get in a more comfortable position. Reid shifted to accommodate her, and the move only made her aware of his rock-solid erection. How many times could he be ready in one night?

She exhaled, trying to focus on the conversation and not how easy it would be for him to slip inside her. Even sore from earlier, her sex burned and throbbed at the sensation of him nestled along her core.

“If you’re not guilty, tell me about him.”

She wasn’t guilty. She would need to have something real with Charles to feel that. She was embarrassed. She had led Reid to believe she and Charles were a real thing, when in reality they were just friends who mugged for the camera. Not very good friends either. She didn’t want to confess the truth and let him know just how undesirable she actually was. Reid thought she was beautiful. She’d rather not let him know precisely how singular he was in that regard.

“Gracie.” Still holding her chin, he trailed a thumb along her bottom lip, reminding her of those lovely words he had said about her mouth. The curves of your lips rewrite history.

Further proof that he thought she was desirable. Why dash the delusion?

“Talk to me,” he prodded.

“I don’t feel guilty because Charles and I aren’t . . .” She swallowed. This was harder than she expected. “We’re not real. Our relationship is a sham. Something cooked up by father to make me look more likable. To earn public favor.” She smiled weakly. Saying it out loud made her feel all the more lame.

Reid stared down at her with that all-seeing gaze, and for the first time she knew he was seeing it all. Every bit of her with all her insecurities and flaws.

“You’re saying you just dated this guy because your father wanted you to. For publicity?”

Cue mortification and flaming cheeks. She nodded, adding dumbly, “Everyone loves a romance.”

“So you haven’t slept with him?”

“We’ve kissed. Made it to second base. Tried for third and that was a disaster. No sparks. Pathetic, right?”

“So you’re telling me you’re single.” One corner of his mouth kicked up playfully, and she let loose a short burst of laughter before she slapped a hand over her mouth, quickly smothering the sound.

“Because right now that makes a difference,” she joked with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. He’d already had his way with her and she had reveled in it.

He left the bed suddenly, and she thought maybe she had angered him, but then he was back, covering her body with his. She caught the glint of foil between his teeth, heard the sharp rip and understood.

He reached between them and rolled the condom on, his blazing gaze finding hers. “Fuck, yes, it makes a difference.” He entered her in one hard thrust. “It means there’s no one between us. No ghost of a boyfriend. Just us. And sparks. We have plenty of those.”

She opened her mouth on a sharp cry as he started a fierce tempo. He took hold of her hips and lifted them, angling her so he was targeting the spot that made her shake and spots dance in front of her eyes. How was it that she could have known this man for so short a time but he already knew her body and how to play it like an instrument?

His mouth collided with hers, words a harsh mutter, “It means this is mine.”

She wrapped both arms around his shoulders and buried her face in his neck, afraid he would see her response in her expression. Because it was impossible. Complicated and stamped with a fat, irrevocable end date on it. This connection they felt couldn’t go anywhere. They both admitted that. They both knew it. Still, it didn’t change how she felt.

He is mine, too.





Twenty




Dawn tinged the room a purpling blue as he watched Grace sleep. The occasional lightning flashed against the curtain, followed moments later by a rumble of thunder. The storm hadn’t reached them yet, but it was coming. Rain was rare in this part of the state, but when it happened, it hit hard.

Her eyelids flickered and he wondered at her dreams. Hopefully, they weren’t anything like his. He’d only dozed, but images had infiltrated, haunted him in those fleeting moments. Images of Grace running. Gunshots. Blood. One moment he was standing over the body of the security guard from all those years ago, and then he was rolling him over and he wasn’t the security guard anymore. He was Grace. Reid woke up shaking. After that, he gave up on sleep.

Watching her curled up on her side, the sheet wrapped around her naked body, he tried to figure out what the hell his next move should be.

Maybe there could be a way he could trick Sullivan into thinking she was dead. He winced, hating the thought of using her like that, though.

And what are you doing now if not using her?