Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
JOANIE
Even though I’ve never been big on holidays, Christmas morning holds the echoes of the joy of all my childhood Christmases. But this Christmas morning holds the echoes of the joy of all my orgasms of the past twelve hours. And there have been a lot.
With that thought, I wake fully, suppressing my giggle in case Greg’s not up yet. Because there’s one thing we didn’t do last night that I will make sure we do this morning.
Unfortunately, the blackout curtains make the room so dark that all I can see is his outline. I listen quietly and hear only his deep breaths. He’s still asleep. But not for long.
With a sly grin, I slip under the covers. And then I close my lips over his cock. Already semi-hard with morning wood, he nearly fills my mouth. And a few good sucks leave me with not much more than a crown and Greg groaning.
“Shit, Joanie,” he says. “That’s …” More groans.
I slip my hand around him, grinning and pumping his shaft as I emerge to find he’s turned on the lamp. The low light casts a golden glow over his gorgeous face.
His head is thrown back, his eyes closed as his muscles tighten against the sensation of me working him.
“Look at me, Greg,” I demand, just like he did when he went down on me yesterday. And I intend to make this every bit as epic as what he did to me, if that’s possible. It was the best oral I’ve ever received, after all, but I’m confident I can give it as good as I got.
His eyes are dark and filled with need, but he watches. And I watch back as I lick around the tip of him, the fantasies of doing this to him coming to life even better than I’d imagined. He grits his teeth, and I smirk, pumping him with sure, wet strokes before closing my mouth over him again, opening my throat, and releasing my hand. One of the few ways I’ll surrender to a man.
With a sharp groan of approval that shows he understood the invitation, Greg pumps into my mouth, bracing himself against the bed to get as deep as he can. Moisture streams from my eyes and down my cheeks as I take it all, sucking around his thrusts as he fucks my mouth until my clit is throbbing, my nipples are hard, and my throat is raw. With a roar, he spills down my throat. I smile around his cock, then lick gently to clean him as he withdraws. But then his dick is replaced by his lips as he pulls me in for a claiming kiss, his tongue plundering my mouth.
Once he lets me go, he drops back to the bed, panting. “Fucking hell, Joanie,” he groans. “Give me a minute and then I’m going to make you come so hard you —”
The sound of a door closing outside the bedroom makes us both sit up abruptly.
“Gregory?” a man’s voice calls.
I look over at Greg, wide-eyed. His expression is sour.
“Fucking hell,” he mutters. “It’s my father.” He rises and goes to the door, sticking his head around the gap where it was open. “I’ll be out in a minute.” His tone is terse, unfriendly. I don’t miss that there’s no “ Merry Christmas, Dad ” or “ Hey, Dad, what a nice surprise. ”
Greg closes the door, then walks to the window and opens the drapes, presumably so he can see better. He pulls on his jeans and a sweater before ducking out of the room and pulling the door almost closed behind him … but not quite all the way closed. And seeing as how I have no shame, I slink out of bed and retrieve my sweater from where it’d landed on the floor last night, slipping it on. Since it hits below my ass, it covers everything that matters in case I get caught, so I don’t bother with anything else. Instead, I creep to the door to listen.
“—and I told you that your mother and I expected you to come home. We’ve had enough, son.”
“First; I’m a fucking adult, and you may not like that I decided your plans to turn Alpine Ridge into the next tourist trap in the Cascades would destroy everything I love about this place —”
“It’s not your decision to make,” Greg’s father interrupts, his voice icy.
“Not just mine, maybe. But I came here to look after our investments this side of the mountains. I was happy to do that until you wanted to change what that meant. I never agreed —”
“I thought you’d care more about what’s in the family’s best interests, Gregory. But since you don’t, you have no right —”
“I have every right. Your father left me half of that land, plus all of the property you’re standing on. Clearly, you didn’t get that Grandpa Tyler was trying to get us to learn how to work together, Dad. But it’s all about what you want, isn’t it?” The harsh, commanding note in Greg’s voice sends shivers down my spine.
Greg’s dad scoffs. “So, what, you want to waste your life with no career, no wife, no family , and now without thought for the real estate empire you’ve been part of since birth? You’re abandoning your duties to yourself and your mother and me. If you won’t see sense, at least come home for your mother. You have no idea how devastated she is by your behavior.”
Now it’s Greg’s turn to scoff. “You’re peas in a pod. Do you care at all that being here is what makes me happy? That I’d rather leave no legacy than one built on greed?” My heart clenches at the plea in his words, the obvious desire for his father’s approval. While my own parents weren’t the most hands on, all they’ve ever wanted was my happiness. It hurts knowing Greg’s clearly never had that, and I find my anger rising against his father.
“Those are interesting words, considering you’ve lived large on the legacy that your grandfather and his brother started. That your trust fund has allowed you luxuries that —”
Greg’s laughter cuts off his father. “Shows what you know. I haven’t touched a fucking dime of that money. I’ve lived only off the fruits of my own labor.” My eyebrows fly up at the information spilling out of this argument.
“From being a PE teacher ?” His father practically spits the words. “You truly expect me to believe that?”
“Just because I haven’t sold or developed our joint land doesn’t mean I haven’t done anything, Dad ,” Greg throws the last word back at him with as much disdain as his dad had with his former title. “You need me because, unlike you, I learned from Grandpa Tyler. And I’ve made my own money with other investments. So, I have absolutely nothing to gain from destroying this place so you can make money. And using Christmas and Mom to guilt me into coming home and being a good boy? That’s low, even for you.” I bite my lip, pride and respect flowing through me that Greg isn’t taking a lick of shit from this tyrant.
“Fine,” his dad seethes. “Stay here. Miserable and alone.”
And I can’t help it, my anger boils over. I didn’t even grow up with this dickwad and I’ve had enough. I swing open the door and sashay out, delighting in the surprise on both men’s faces as I tuck myself against Greg’s side. He wraps his arm around me reflexively, but I don’t meet the questioning gaze I know is pointed my way.
No, my eyes are on Papa Tyler right now.
“Oh, he won’t be alone,” I greet him with my favorite intimidate-the-prosecutor glare.
Papa Tyler’s eyes narrow on me. “Great, now you’re bringing prostitutes home?” His eyes flick to his son’s.
Greg steps forward menacingly, tucking me behind him. The gesture makes my heart race and I place a hand on his back in solidarity.
“You’re going to apologize for that remark, and then you’re going to leave,” Greg says in a calm, dangerous voice.
“Or what? You’ll make me?” his dad asks flippantly.
Tense silence hangs in the air. Knowing nothing good will happen if things don’t calm the fuck down, I step forward, placing myself in front of Greg, resting my hands on his chest. “Don’t rise to the bait, darling,” I purr. “He’s not worth it.” And then I turn to face the old man. “For the record, I’m a lawyer, though I guess some might say that isn’t much better than a prostitute. But I sure as fuck know how to make your son a whole lot happier than you seem to be able to. So, I highly suggest you take your self-righteous bullshit and shove it up your guilt-tripping, delusional ass.”
His father’s mouth opens and closes in shock. And when the vein on his forehead starts pulsing, I almost laugh.
“I won’t be spoken to like that by some gold-digging trollop who —”
“Oh, I’m most definitely a trollop and proud of it. But I had no idea Greg came from money or even had any of his own to speak of. Not that I would care because, as it happens, I’m also a trust fund baby who doesn’t need her family’s money since I’m more than capable of making piles of my own. And if you don’t like how we talk to you, you know where the door is. That you dared to walk through it in the first place is beyond me. In case it wasn’t clear: whatever power you think you had here? You don’t. Now run along like a good boy, and please, don’t have a Merry Christmas. Because you’re a fucking asshole who doesn’t deserve it.” I turn back to Greg, who is grinning from ear to ear. “Now. Ready to make me come like you promised, baby?”
Greg shakes his head and laughs. Then, he looks up at his father.
“Well. I couldn’t have put it better myself. You know where the door is. Bye, Dad.”
His father starts spluttering threats, but Greg ignores him and lifts me up. The near-joyful look on his face sends warm tingles through my whole body. I wrap my legs around his waist, and he turns his back to his dad as he carries me to the bedroom, clearly paying him no attention.
He kicks the bedroom door closed behind us and tosses me on the bed.
I watch him carefully as he stalks the length of the bed until he’s hovered over me.
“I hope I didn’t go too overboard out there. I couldn’t listen to his bullshit anymore,” I offer. Even though I’m not sorry, I know if I emasculated Greg, the whole orgasm promise might be out the window.
“Are you kidding?” he asks, looking down at me with dark eyes. “That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.” He grinds his pelvis into mine, demonstrating his excitement.
I make to return the sentiment, but out in the main room, the front door slams. We give each other a triumphant grin.
“So, you’re rich, huh?” I raise an eyebrow.
He smirks. “Guess the cat’s out of the bag. I wasn’t trying to hide it or anything.” He shrugs lightly.
“I meant what I said. I honestly don’t care if you had nothing. But …”
“But?” he asks, his brows jumping.
“It did make me realize that there’s a lot I don’t know about you,” I reply.
Now his brows bunch together. “There’s nothing I’m trying to hide. I swear to you; you don’t have anything to worry about from me.”
I chew my lip. “I know. It’s not that. I just … it also made me realize …”
I cover my face with my hands, unsure I can admit this to myself. I feel his weight settle and his fingers close around my wrists, pulling my hands from my face.
“Talk to me, city girl.” The look he gives me is all lust and longing. And it makes me realize that’s what I’m feeling. Longing. For more.
“I want to know you,” I admit in a whisper. “I want more than sex, too, Greg.”
He goes perfectly still, and I worry that he’d changed his mind about wanting that, too, based on my little performance with his dad. I guess even I get insecure putting myself out there.
It’s weird that I’m waiting for his answer with bated breath. But … good weird. I think. Though just when I think I may not be cut out for going beyond sex, that he may have truly realized I am as bat-shit crazy as … well, I am, his lips are on mine. His hand freeing his cock. His tip nudging me for permission to enter bare.
I don’t even have to think about it. I use my heels to pull him in, joining my mouth to his as he slides in deep. I groan into his mouth when I feel the silky hardness of him thrusting into me.
It feels so good. And a man who answers my vulnerability with his dick? I’m so screwed in every way.
“I take it,” I say, panting, “that means you’re okay with that?” I give him a teasing smile as he rears back, continuing to slide in and out of me.
He smiles back, running his hands down my tits to my hips, holding tight. “More than okay,” he agrees, then leans forward. “Because all I wanted for Christmas was you.”
I tilt my hips to meet his thrusts. “Oh, but I’m on the naughty list. I’m nobody’s present, baby.”
He slams into me, and my head drops back. “Fuck, Joanie. Keep calling me that, and I’ll show you just how much it pays to be naughty.”
“Calling you what?” I ask innocently, wiggling my hips against him. “Baby?”
His jaw tightens, and he unleashes, pounding into me. “Fuck yes,” he agrees in a husky, gritty whisper in my ear as his thrusts turn frenzied. “Scream it for me, naughty girl.”
I tip my head back, surrendering to how much he owns me. How much I want him to own me. No man has ever brought that feeling out of me during sex, much less outside of it.
“Make me yours, mountain man,” I groan in agreement.
Even though deep down, I’m pretty sure he already has.