“You have some,” I pressed. “Like why Popeye called you Stephanie.”
She took a deep breath. “It’s my name.”
This time I did roll her over onto her back. “Excuse me?”
She pressed her lips together and raised her eyebrows like she was a kid who was caught stealing a piece of candy from the store and hoped they were cute enough not to get in trouble.
She was so fucking cute it was hard to get my irritation up enough to scold her.
“My full name is Stephanie Grace Hartley.”
I realized quickly as I sat up, it wasn’t so hard to be fucking irritated.
“What the fuck? Your personnel file at the bar says Grace Bishop.”
“How do you know what my personnel file says?” she asked as she sat up, pulling the sheet with her. Meanwhile, I stood on the side of the bed buck-ass fucking naked as I stared at her.
“That’s not important.”
“No, it is important. How did you see my file? Did Jake show it to you?”
I put my hands on my hips. This wasn’t a conversation to have naked, but a small part of me wondered if it was the best time. A distraction. Either my body would distract her from what I was about to say, or what I was about to say would distract her from realizing I was naked. “I own the bar,” I confessed, my voice a hair above a whisper, hoping she wouldn’t hear me. At least there was no fruit for her to throw at me.
“You what?” she said, getting up from the bed.
“I own the bar,” I repeated.
“Since when?”
I didn’t take my eyes off her, but I didn’t answer her either. I thought about what to tell her. I didn’t want to lie, but I wasn’t sure she would listen long enough for me to explain.
“Well?”
“Since a few days after we met.”
“OH MY GOD!” she screamed. “You are so fucking controlling it’s ridiculous.” She dropped the sheet, and I was momentarily distracted by her naked body.
After she cried herself to sleep, she woke me up in the middle of the night as she climbed on top of me again. That time I fucking touched her. I let her lead, let her set the pace. But I touched every fucking inch of her body. She still made me wear a condom—which reminded me, I needed to check in with Kytten.
My thoughts were so consumed with fucking Grace without a condom again and knocking her up that I hadn’t seen her move. Until a shoe hit me in the head.
“FUCK!” I rubbed at my forehead and ducked as Grace sent the other shoe flying. Thank God she wore soft shoes. When I saw her zero in on my boots, I launched myself over the bed and pulled her up into my arms before slamming her against the wall.
Her legs went around my waist, and the feel of her hot, wet pussy against my dick took away my sense of reality. I slammed my lips against hers, and plunged inside her.
She threw her head back and gasped at the sudden intrusion, and the bang brought me back to reality.
“Fuck, Grace. I’m sorry.”
“DON’T!” she screeched. “Don’t stop, King.” Her arms went around my neck, and her feet dug into my back. “Fuck me.”
There was so much we needed to discuss, but right this second, I couldn’t think of a single thing except coming inside her. I didn’t care that I wasn’t wearing a condom. Hearing Grace beg was all I focused on.
It didn’t take long before she was screaming my name and I was unloading inside her. I buried my face in her neck as we both fought to catch our breath.
“Are you okay?” I asked, afraid I’d set her back.
“I’m okay,” she assured me.
