Page 30 of Pack Giroux

I turn to look at him as he works. The muscles of his backflex as he moves things around and gets it ready for the next one. The hunter-green Henley he's wearing has the sleeves pushed up to his forearms. Occasionally, he stops and rubs his hands against his hips.

"That must've been really hard on your pack," I say.

"Yeah," he tells me. "Our mom took it harder than anyone, but she was as solid as a rock for us. But she always worried about what would happen to Gage if something happened to her or the pack as a whole. He can't take care of himself. So, she helped start a foundation in his name that would help parents or packs through a situation like that. We lost him a few years ago."

"I'm sorry," I say softly, wanting to go over to comfort him but not knowing if he'd be accepting of it.

"It's okay," he replies. "He lived a good life, and it took a while but my mom was finally at peace with his passing. Didn't stop her from doing everything that she could for the foundation, though. So, when I needed a change from construction and being out in the sun building stuff with my hands, I started doing this on the side. It got enough of a following that I decided to do it full time. Part of the proceeds go to the foundation with every purchase."

I swallow hard. "Why do you have to be a saint?"

He stops his machine and turns to look at me, folding his arms across his chest. "What do you mean?"

"It's not enough for you to be incredibly sexy, or super sweet selflessly helping a confused college with laundry dilemmas, or have a car that every girl dreams of taking a ride in, but you have to be a freaking saint, too." I tell him honestly.

Ripping the glasses off his face, he tosses them with his gloves on the table in the middle of the room as he stalks over to me.

"How is it that you've managed to not snag someone asperfect as you are?" I ask, feeling like prey now that I've got his full attention.

When he gets close enough to press our chest together, he leans down to lock eyes with me as he says, "Because I was waiting for you."

Then his lips close over mine, and the warm vanilla scent of him once again invades my sense to the point of me pulling away to lick up his neck to see if he tastes as good as he smells. He growls into my neck where he's got his face buried. Reaching down, his hands close around my bum just like Raine's did earlier and he lifts me in the same fashion. Only he doesn't stop walking as he does it. The friction of his rock-hard abs rub against the spot Kinkaid licked last night, making me rub harder against him to get more of it.

I don't really care where he's taking us as long as we get there quickly. We walk past Raine's room and straight into his where he shuts the door behind us and flicks the lights on before laying me on the bed. I want him covering me and more kisses, but what he does is so much better. I raise up on my elbows as he pulls off his shirt, tossing it on the floor before moving his hands to his belt. It's torturous watching him slowly undress, but the end result is so worth it as his manhood springs up when he takes off his pants and boxers. I drink his whole body in, lingering on all of the muscles of his stomach and arms, but my attention keeps dropping back between his legs. Then my breath catches as he reaches down to grasp it, giving it a couple tugs.

He watches my reaction, probably waiting for me to freak out in all my virgin-ness. But that's the last thing I'm doing. To prove it, I open the robe, slipping my arms out of the holes and exposing the tiny nightgown underneath. The best part, I don't think he even noticed carrying me in here is that I'm not wearing anything underneath. Pulling my knees up and letting them fall open, rewards me with the best reaction ever.

His eyes widen in surprise before he grabs my ankles, yanking me to the edge of the bed before he drops to his knees and buries his face between my legs. It happens so fast that I don't have time to prepare myself for his attack. I cry out his name as he sucks on that spot and instantly sends me over the edge. But he doesn't stop. Gently working one finger and then two inside of me, he gives me a moment to breathe before returning his mouth to the spot that I'm learning to love. The feeling is intense and has my back arching off the bed while my fingers find his hair.

"Grady," I plead. "I can't take it. Oh, God, Grady. Please."

When his head lifts to meet my eyes, he's got slick literally dripping down his chin and onto his chest. I whine as his fingers slowly retreat, but he makes up for it by helping me scoot back up the bed and replacing them with himself.

"This is going to be uncomfortable for a few minutes," he warns gently. "Then it's going to feel so good. I promise."

All I can do is nod. I've been researching since leaving the center, so I know what to expect. Here in the moment, though, I'm a little more nervous. He must sense it, or smell it, because he pauses and covers my body with his, placing small kisses over my face.

"Are you sure?" he asks.

Just the fact that we've made it this far and he's willing to stop long enough to ask, risking not going further couldn't possibly make me any surer than I am. "Yes."

He reaches between us and lines himself up again, keeping as much of his body pressed against me as he can. Our skin-on-skin contact makes the nerves less. Even as he begins to stretch me uncomfortably where no man ever has. I let out a quiet whimper from the pain, but he kisses it away.

"Do you trust me?" he asks after a moment of discomfort.

"Yes," I repeat without hesitation.

He slams into me with a bite of pain that has me grabbing onto his back and holding onto it for dear life as I catch my breath. "You okay?"

My forehead is buried against his shoulder as I say, "I think so. But I need you to start moving."

Those few words are all he needs to hear. He slowly withdraws and pushes back in. After the first few times, it starts to feel so good that I don't ever want him to stop. Then he starts picking up his pace until we're both sweating. His face drops to where one of my nipples has slipped out of my gown and his mouth closes over it. He bites down on it gently, making me moan in ecstasy. Stripping both of the tiny straps down my arms, he showers both breasts with attention until I start begging.

His movement becomes almost frenzied as he pulls out and pushes back in quickly. I raise my hips to meet him thrust for thrust. It only takes a few more before he's sending me over that edge again, and this time I can feel my walls clenching down on him as he keeps moving. Only not for long, because his manhood starts jerking inside of me, and I know that he's releasing his cum. Not like I can pretend to know how it all works just yet. All I know is that it feels amazing, and I don't ever want to stop.

Letting his head drop to my chest, he tries to catch his breath and asks if I'm okay again.

I think about it before I answer this time. "I'm pretty tired and sore, but I'm okay."

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