The Expert’s Guide to Driving a Man Wild (Bluebonnet #3)(12)
Author: Jessica Clare

She turned to look at him, hands on her hips. Her br**sts were cupped in girlish white lace, but the sight of it mixed with those tattoos was enough to make him groan with need.

“Grant?” Her voice was low and husky.

“I think I’m going to touch you now, Brenna.”

He watched in fascination as a shiver rippled over her skin. Her lips parted and she licked them, her gaze fascinated. “I wish you would.”

His hand moved to the side of her neck and he pulled her closer, drawing her in for another kiss. Her lips parted under his and the kiss deepened, highlighted by a flicking of tongues against one another. It wasn’t his imagination, then. She wanted this as much as he did. He drew his arm around her waist, holding her against his body, feeling her warm skin under his hand and pressed against him. She felt small and fragile in his arms, which was strange given that she was such a forceful, vibrant personality.

Her kiss became hot, hungry, her tongue stroking against his. She pulled away to catch her breath and whispered one quick word, “Condoms?”

Grant groaned in dismay. “I . . . no. It’s been five years.” He was an idiot. A complete, unprepared idiot. Of course he should have condoms. “I didn’t think—”

She patted his chest in a comforting motion. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.” Brenna stepped past him and moved down the ladder. She grabbed the decorative throw off his couch and wrapped it around her body. “When I come back,” she said playfully, “I want to see some skin.”

And she stepped out his front door and into the night.

He stared at the door for a minute, dumbfounded. Was this really going to happen? With wild, annoying Brenna? Except she hadn’t been so wild and annoying tonight. She’d been vibrant and funny and charming, and if she was a little offbeat, it hadn’t bothered him. And she hadn’t harassed him once.

He didn’t trust it. Was this another game with her, then? Maybe she’d gone back out to her cabin to have a good laugh at him. What if this was another one of her pranks, all designed to make him look like an ass when she told the others about it in the morning? Yeah, Grant sat there with a boner all night and I never went back. Isn’t that funny? His scowl darkened and he crossed his arms over his chest, sitting on the edge of his bed and waiting.

Just to see if she was really going to come back.

A moment later, she returned, holding up a strip of condoms. “Success. And you’re not nearly na**d enough.”

Relief shot through him. It wasn’t a joke. “You keep those in your cabin?” He never heard anything and she was next door to him. Maybe she was having wild dates that he didn’t know about. A bolt of jealousy shot through him. To disguise it, he pulled off his jacket and began to neatly fold it on the edge of the bed.

She tossed the blanket on the couch, down to her lacy white bra and thong, a sight that made him hard all over again. “Nah. I knew there were extra condoms in the main cabin. I had extras when I was prepping the survival kits. Your sister says hi, by the way.”

He turned and gave her a horrified look as she climbed up the ladder. “Elise saw you?”

“Well, yeah.” Brenna shrugged. “I wasn’t exactly quiet. It just adds a bit more cement to your story, doesn’t it?”

Grant stared at her as she reapproached him. “Is that what this is? Cement for the story?”

She rolled her eyes at him and put her hands on the front of his shirt, then tugged hard enough to make buttons pop off. “It can’t be because you’re a good kisser and I really want to get laid?”

Was that how most women thought? He’d only known Heather, and while she’d been adventurous, it hadn’t been adventurous quite like this. Her adventurous spirit had been saved for mountain climbing and challenging sports . . . and meeting other men in clubs. When they’d first gotten married, their sex life had been pleasing, but tame. Later on, it had changed. Still, she was the only yardstick he had to judge by. “And you want to have sex with me?”

“No,” she said in a sarcastic voice. “I thought I’d rip your shirt off and then force you onto the bed and make you watch while I fingered myself.”

Even as she said the cutting words, her hands stroked under his loose shirt and over his chest, and her gaze went there, as if fascinated.

She was still entirely too lippy. He grabbed her and hauled her against him, enjoying the widening of her eyes. “Is that so?” His voice was low and dangerous. Grant rather liked that mental image of her fingering herself, but he thought he’d turn the tables a little. He pushed forward until her legs were pinned between him and the bed, and leaned in to kiss her again, bearing her down onto his mattress. Then he lifted his head and glanced at her, enjoying the soft, dazed look in her eyes. “I have you in my bed. Does that mean you’re going to finger yourself now?”

“If we’re doing a reversal, shouldn’t I be fingering you?” she asked huskily and reached between his legs, grabbing his crotch. “Ooo, I like.”

He groaned at the gentle touch of her hand. “God, Brenna, don’t—”

She pulled away as if scalded. “You okay?”

“Just . . . it’s been a while.” He looked down at the smooth, pale skin under him, highlighted by her delicate lacy underthings. “Let me be in the driver’s seat.”

She grinned and raised her arms up over her head, clasping her hands together. The motion made her br**sts high and firm, and almost popping out of her bra. “I’m all yours. Do what you will.”

He leaned in to kiss her again.

“Be gentle,” she said, fluttering her eyelashes. “It’s my first time . . . with you.”

“Are you ever serious?”

“Rarely ever. Serious is no fun.”

Grant kissed her lightly, tasting her full lips, and he felt the tremble that moved through her body.

“I know,” she said when he raised his head again, her eyes gleaming with excitement. She pulled his glasses off his face and tossed them aside. “We can play a game.”

“Game?” he murmured, kissing along her jaw toward her ear.

“It’s called Guess Brenna’s Piercing. You can explore me until you find it.”

She had a piercing somewhere? His thoughts went wild, picturing that. Holy f**k, his dick was so hard that he’d nearly come in his pants just then. Grant groaned, burying his face in the curve of her neck, trying to find the willpower to make this last longer than thirty seconds. God, she was sexy. “Piercing?” he managed to choke out.