The Expert’s Guide to Driving a Man Wild (Bluebonnet #3)(22)
Author: Jessica Clare

By the time they got off the boat he’d be just as hot and bothered as her.

• • •

The afternoon of family time? Sheer torture for Brenna. She didn’t understand wanting to spend endless hours just hanging out with family. To her, family were people you tolerated because you had to, and you escaped at the first chance. But Grant seemed to love spending time with his parents and his sister, and no one seemed in a rush to leave the boat.

No one but Brenna, of course.

She was turned on. She couldn’t help it. Grant was sitting there, so very Grant-ish in his dark sweater and glasses, his hair mussed by the wind on the lake. He’d given her attention, solicitous to the bone. Polite, attentive, and utterly different from the man she normally encountered. Oh sure, Grant was nice and pleasant to all the visitors they had at the survival school, but to her? He was a scowling, nasty-tempered beast who was never pleased with a thing she did. This whole “nice” Grant thing? It was throwing her. She kept waiting for him to nitpick how she held the fishing pole or the way she stood. But he didn’t. He simply kept his arms wrapped around her to keep her warm, nuzzled her neck upon occasion (as if he couldn’t help himself), and was generally pleasant.

And he watched her like a hawk, too. That was probably her fault, since she’d decided to even the odds between them and had begun to brush her body against his, pressing her br**sts to his chest when she said she was cold, and making sure her bottom was nestled against his c**k when she fished. Running her hands all over him as if she couldn’t help herself, either . . . and she couldn’t.

She just kept thinking of the hours when she’d be able to get him alone again.

When the sun began to set, they finally left the fishing behind and the boat pulled back up alongside the dock. Brenna breathed a sigh of relief. She was ready to go home and strip Grant naked. When he took her hand to help her out of the boat, she couldn’t help but brush her thumb over his knuckles, and she enjoyed seeing his eyes darken with pleasure. Good. Now he was thinking along the same lines that she was.

The Markhams had rented a car after driving back from the airport in her tiny Sunfire. Which suited her just fine. It meant that she could have Grant all to herself by the time they shut the car doors. If she played her cards right, she could have her hands under that sweater of his in a matter of minutes, and then he wouldn’t take much convincing after that.

“Shall we go out to dinner?” Reggie asked as they all departed from the boat. “I’m famished.”

Brenna gave what she hoped was a convincing yawn. “I’m really tired. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

To her surprise, Grant’s wind-reddened cheeks turned bright pink. Was the man blushing? Over that innocent comment?

“But we were going to go out for a lovely dinner,” Justine protested. “It won’t be the same if you don’t go.”

“Brenna’s exhausted, so I think I’ll just take her home,” Grant said, looping a casual hand around her waist and pulling her close. “We’ll order a pizza.”

The small movement made her body sing with anticipation. Soon, my hormones. Very soon. And she slid her hand into Grant’s back pocket and lightly caressed his ass through the fabric of his slacks, enjoying the way he jerked in response to her touch.

But to her dismay, Elise gave them an expectant look, her hands stuffed into her jacket. “I’ll just hitch a ride back with you guys, then. Pizza sounds fine to me.”

Thwarted by the well-meaning sister. Damn it. They couldn’t exactly turn her down since she was sleeping on the lodge couch.

Grant’s smile was a bit tight at the edges as he nodded at his sister. “That’s fine.”

It was? Brenna’s brows drew together and she studied his crotch. She was pretty sure he was about to break free with a tent in the front of his slacks, so why not tell his sister to buzz off and give them some alone time? She would have done that and paired it with a smile to let Elise know that she didn’t mean anything by it.

But not Grant. Damn him. Now he was just doing this shit on purpose. Did he not want to be alone with her because she didn’t want a relationship? If that was the case, she’d have to be persuasive when she got him alone. Because right now? She was really, really turned on and she wanted him in a bad way. Not the relationship, just the sex.

And what kind of man didn’t want some no-strings-attached sex?

They said their good-byes to Grant’s parents, promising to give them a tour of the survival school in the morning. All the while, Brenna yawned and tried to look fatigued.

And then they got in Brenna’s car. Grant had wanted to drive, but Pop was still stymied by the Audi’s mysterious malfunction the other day and wanted to tinker with the engine a bit more. Grant had shot her a few exasperated looks, but no one had wanted to be the one to tell Pop that most of the items he’d been repairing had been deliberately broken . . . so the Audi remained unusable and they’d driven in her junker.

She jammed the keys in the ignition, irritable with arousal. Elise slid into the backseat, and then Grant got in the passenger side. They waved a polite good-bye to Grant’s parents as Brenna pulled out of the parking lot and back onto the highway, speeding back to Bluebonnet.

The car was silent. No one spoke for long minutes, and the interior was dark and shadowed. Brenna glanced in the rearview mirror. Elise had her head back, eyes closed, and it looked as if she was napping. Brenna looked over at Grant.

He was watching her, his eyes dark behind his wire-rimmed glasses. His hair was still tousled from the lake. That was sexy. When she shifted gears again, instead of putting her hand back on the steering wheel, she moved it casually to his knee to see what he’d say.

He adjusted in his seat, his leg twitching under her grip, but he said nothing. Didn’t push her hand away, didn’t speak and wake up his sister. It was like he was watching and waiting to see what she’d do.

Oh, little did he know. She’d do plenty.

Her hand slid a bit higher up his thigh.

He shifted.

Brenna kept her eyes on the road, but her hand went to cup his cock. Through his trousers, she could feel the stiff length of him, and memories flooded back of just how well equipped he’d been. Grant was the perfect size for her, all thick, blunt-tipped c**k and smooth length, just wide enough to rub her in all the right places. She stroked her hand over his length.

His fingers covered hers, and she heard the sharp inhale of his breath.