Chapter 9: Fortune...
*****
Grady stood in the doorway of the workroom at Bud and Blossom, watched Annika hunched over her workbench, three overhead lamps illuminating her frame, turning her hair dark gold. She was wearing an old pair of denim overalls, cut mid-thigh, with a bright, neon-green singlet underneath, indicating considerable time spent in the humid greenhouse. She'd pushed her reading glasses up on top of her head, waves curling around her face, and squinted over an order, an invoice. Her bare feet tapped in rhythm with the bluesy jazz number on low as to not completely distract her.
She'd spread herself out - more space at the bench than her tiny office desk - and was clearly juggling multiple tasks. A mood board was perched against the wall on her right; her computer to the left. She turned from task to task as either an idea popped into her head, or as they naturally flowed from one to the other.
Arms crossed, Grady leaned against the doorframe and watched her work. Appreciated the slim line of her neck, the curve of her shoulder. Even the pencil stuck behind her ear. He was bone tired after partying with the Sydney coaches the night before; tired from the non-stop talking, the modelling, the
coaching
required throughout his presentation.
But seeing Annika there, holding an invoice closer to her face, Grady smiled - she'd clearly forgotten where she put her glasses - suddenly felt rejuvenated, energised. Aroused. Having toed he shoes off at the door, Grady silently stalked the room, cloaked by shadows. Froze.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Annika muttered, rubbing hands fresh with nicks and cuts over her eyes. She shuffled papers, the noise emboldening Grady to steal more steps, before giving a triumphant
ah ha!
upon finding the right information. A victory cry that ended on a squeal of terror.
"Ah ha!" Grady laughed in her ear as his arms encircled her waist, capturing her sensitive earlobe between his teeth.
"Oh my Buddha, Grady! Just shoot me next time." She turned in his arms, squealed again - in delight this time - and kissed him noisily in welcome.
"What are you doing here?" she said, lips a whisper from his. "I was all set to pick you up at twelve-thirty."
"Rearranged things. Got an earlier flight."
She hugged him again, burying her face in the curve of his neck and shoulder, breathing deeply, recommitting his scent to memory. He tipped her face up and pressed his lips to hers, gently easing them open with his tongue. He lazily explored her mouth, swallowing her sighs, enjoying the taste of their mingling breath.
"I really missed you," he murmured before recapturing her lips on a sound that spoke of need. Her arms tightened around his neck and she stood, pressing her figure firmly against his. She could feel the tension, the fatigue, the arousal in every line and plane of his body.
She ran a soothing hand through his messy curls, down the back of his neck, around to his throat, tracing her fingertips down to his collarbone. Her tongue was just as avid and greedy as his. Hungry for the shape of his mouth, she traced its contours before suckling at his bottom lip, taking all she could. He groaned again, hands moving down to cup her ass, pulling her hips against him, before turning his head, changing the angle to further explore the deep recesses of her mouth.
His hands squeezed her denim-clad bottom before moving up her back and into her hair, pencil and spectacles clattering to the bench. Fisted there as his need grew, took over every other comprehensible thought. His cock strained against the zipper of his trousers, his heart thundered against hers.
"I want you," she whispered huskily, hands moving up and down his chest, over his shoulders, desperate to touch everywhere and anywhere all at once, the sweet ache in her core dictating her behaviour.
On a growl, Grady's greedy hands moved to unclasp the buckles at her breasts, hands cupping each mound, fingers squeezing flesh beneath the cotton material of her singlet. Annika moaned, nipples hardening under Grady's touch. She raised her arms, helping him remove the barrier, and he made quick work of her bra, snapping open the front clasp.
"Oh, Annika," he murmured before holding her breasts up to his mouth. His flattened tongue laved at her left nipple, warming her flesh with his hot spit. He quickly moved over to the right, wrapping his lips around the pebbled teat to suckle and feast.
Annika's hand fisted in the hair at the nape of his neck, holding him to her, as her hips rocked against his, demanding more.
He kissed up her collarbone - fingertips now playing with the wet peaks - burying his lips at her throat to suck and bite the sensitive flesh there.
Annika curved her shoulder to ear in defence, waves of pleasure running up and down her side. Cresting in her core, making her throb. Grady growled into her skin, tugging her nipples to the point of pain until she lowered her shoulder, giving him unobstructed access once again.
"Good girl," he whispered against her skin, circling the mark of his mouth with his tongue. He lifted his head, smiled, enjoying the sight of his brand on her skin.
"You're mine," he said, releasing her nipples, enjoying the look of euphoria on her face as the blood rushed back to the sensitive tips, warming her from the inside out.
"Yes," she said, voice small and breathless. The molten chocolate of his eyes entrapped her, bound her to him.
"Lucille can play with you," he said, hands moving up to encircle her throat, massage up to the nape of her neck, his fingers sending long tendrils of pleasure down her back. Annika's hips rolled against him again, in offering.
He smirked, knowing exactly what her body was asking, but not quite ready to give in just yet. "But you're mine to keep," he said, lips covering hers again, swallowing her moans, tongue invading her mouth to devour and demolish.
Annika leaned back, breaking the kiss, elbows propping her up against the bench, her legs widening to home his hips. She arched a brow in a salacious look. Grady pulled the denim down to her knees, gave a strangled moan when he saw the was completely naked underneath.
"Fuck, Nika," he said, eyes roaming up from her bare pussy, over her tummy, to her rosy-red nipples, before settling on her flushed face. Annika's heartbeat spiked under his gaze, a slow heatwave warming her skin wherever he looked.
"I wanted to surprise you at the airport. But you spoiled it for me," she pouted, mock disappointment colouring her voice.
"Dear, oh dear," he teased, pressing the seam of his pants to her gash, rubbing her there, feeling his erection swell.
Annika sucked in a breath, hips undulating with desire, trying to find the right point of contact. Grady lowered his lips to her throat, absorbing the warmth of pulse there, before moving down to once again torment her nipples with lips, teeth and tongue.
The sweet ache in her core turned to spice, overheating her core, burning for release. Grady had effectively formed a triangle of pleasure within which to torment her: rough material stimulating her clit, warm and wet lips sucking at her breast, fingertips tugging and pulling its mate.
