Free The Bucket List by Gynger Fyer Page A

good,” Brett grunted as he pulled out a little and grabbed her ankles.
    He held her legs straight up in the air in a V and slammed into her with such force she literally saw stars. She placed one palm on his stomach, feeling his taut abs flex with each thrust.
    “Come on, baby, come for me,” Brett commanded in a raspy voice that sent chills down her spine.
    She never believed women could come on command, but apparently her pussy had a mind of its own and understood the request perfectly because it coiled up and constricted with such force she went deaf for a moment. This was incredible. She felt like she was leaving her body and experiencing it as an observer hovering above them. She saw her face frozen on a silent scream, short fingernails deeply embedded in his butt cheeks, as if she had poked holes in marshmallows. Her legs were damn near touching her head as he thrust in what seemed like slow motion once, then twice, and then he threw his head back, shouting her name with a mixture of triumph and exultation. She continued to hover above the lovely, passionate scene wishing she could take a picture of the raw surreal-ness of it all. 
    A crack like a gun shot went off and she was back in her body looking into his beautifully contorted face, feeling his hot seed flood the condom, warming her womb like a compress against the spasms of her inner walls. He grunted, and her world seemed to be tilted on its axis. Their sweaty bodies clung to each other and he held her in a tight embrace, breathing heavily against her neck.
    “That was amazing. I feel like I’m off balance, like everything’s upside down, you know.” His big body chuckled and shook above her. She opened one eye and pushed him off her a little so she could look at him.
    “What’s so funny?” she smirked, wanting in on the inside joke.
    “See for yourself.” He moved off her with an odd, struggling motion. That’s when she noticed it, too.
    “Shit!” She exclaimed, looking down at the foot of the bed which now lay on the floor.
    They had broken the bed.
    She started laughing with Brett who was now in tears, face red. After a while they settled into silence.
    “Oooh, you are in trouble!” she snickered as they again started laughing.
     

Chapter Eight
     
    Brett had never climaxed so hard in his life. His dick actually hurt, he came so hard. It was crazy. When he realized they broke the bed, it became comical.
    He’d reluctantly called guest services and explained about the broken bed, then moved to the adjoining room which would have been his anyway if she’d declined his advances. Thank God the hotel was discreet enough not to make a big deal about it.
    He took Grace again, more gently in the new bed, but had come with the same gut-wrenching force as the first time. Now he lay in her arms as she caressed his back and hair, murmuring to him things his befuddled mind could not begin to comprehend. It felt so good being in her arms, peaceful and comforting. He finally gained enough strength to roll over on his back, taking her with him. 
    “You tried to kill me!” he accused, stroking her hip and thigh.
    “Me! You were the one trying to fold me like a napkin. I think I’ve lost feeling in three of my toes.” She chuckled and nipped his nipple. He stiffened and swatted her ass.
    “Cut that out! A man can only take so much. I would hate to have to make another call down to the front desk for breaking another bed.”
    “Now I understand why the groupies were camped outside your room every night.”
    Brett stilled. It was time for him to set some things straight once and for all. Taking her chin in his hand he brought her face up to his so she could look him in his eyes.
    “Grace Hughes, from this day forward you are my woman. I don’t give a fuck about groupies. You got that? Say yes so I know you got it.”
    She looked sheepish, but her eyes never left his.
    “Yes. I got that.”
    Brett continued. “We both have a past but it’s just