The Expert’s Guide to Driving a Man Wild (Bluebonnet #3)(44)
Author: Jessica Clare

It was as if Grant existed just to pleasure her. The thought rippled through her a moment before the orgasm did, and she felt her sheath spasm and clench tight, even as he continued to drive into her, that magnetic gaze pinning her. She clung to him, her mouth working silently as the orgasm ripped through her and she lost control.

And as she watched, his jaw clenched tight, and he ground out her name. His fingers dug into her ass and he gave her one last long, rough stroke, staring deep into her eyes—

They both fell to the floor, Grant landing on top of her.

“Ow!” Brenna winced, rubbing her ass and glad for the plush rug covering Grant’s floor. “You okay?”

He braced himself on his elbows, and his face was bright red. “I, uh, forgot about muscle control when I came.” His cheeks were flushed with embarrassment. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

She giggled, the moment so absurd and full of relief after that intense, locked-eyes orgasm. “Next time, remember to keep your knees locked when you come.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he murmured, a sheepish grin on his face.

And suddenly everything was right again in their world. Nothing like a good round of sex to relieve tension. She draped her arms around his neck again and pulled him down for a quick kiss. “Come back to bed with me?”

His gaze searched hers. Whatever he found there, it seemed to please him. He nodded.

• • •

Brenna was humming the next day when she went into the main lodge. The sun was shining, birds were singing, and she’d had some pretty awesome sex last night. Life didn’t get much better than that.

As if the universe was full of post-coital happiness, Brenna walked in on Dane and Miranda making out at Dane’s desk. She was cradled sideways in his lap, her legs crossed and dangling over one side of the chair. His hand was in her shirt and their mouths were glued together. They were so cute when they were horny.

“Morning,” Brenna sang out cheerfully. “I see some of us are working up an appetite.”

Miranda gasped and tugged her shirt back down, slapping Dane’s big paw away. She grinned with relief when she saw it was just Brenna, but she still struggled out of Dane’s grasp and sidled away from him. “I just thought I’d come by and see my fiancé before heading off to work for the day. He’s going to be gone overnight, so I need to let him know what he’s missing.”

“Just make sure that his mind is on his class and not your ass,” Brenna quipped. She couldn’t help but notice that Miranda was wearing the pretty purple bracelet again. That little tingle of wistfulness touched Brenna, and she forced it away. Give it a few weeks, she told herself, and she wouldn’t miss it. It was just stuff.

She hated stuff. Stuff had no use. Stuff just piled up and made a mess. Stuff wasn’t real.

Frowning at herself, Brenna thumped into the chair at her own desk . . . and whimpered at the flare of pain that shot up from her backside. She rubbed it with a scowl. It seemed Grant had dropped her harder than she thought. Glancing up, she saw both Miranda and Dane were watching her, Miranda with a look of curious amusement, and Dane with a look of abject horror.

“What?” Brenna said crossly. “Haven’t you ever seen a girl rub her ass before?”

“Rough night?” Miranda asked in a silky voice, unable to stop her teasing.

“Ugh, I don’t want to hear this,” Dane said, grabbing his coffee mug and racing to the kitchen.

So funny. She couldn’t help but milk it a bit. “I told Grant he needed to use more lube,” Brenna called out in a loud voice as Dane exited the room.

“La la la la can’t hear you,” he shouted back.

Brenna giggled, and at Miranda’s even-more-curious look, she added, “I got dropped on my ass last night.”

“Should I guess how?”

“You can guess, but it’s pretty obvious,” Brenna told her.

“For someone who’s been dropped on her butt, you sure seem happy,” Miranda told her, smiling. “This little thing you have with Grant seems to be working out well.”

“Oh, it’s not a thing,” Brenna told her. “We’re just having some no-strings-attached sex. It’s not like we’re serious.”

“Sure you’re not.” Miranda didn’t look like she bought it for a second. “Can I point out that I’m the genius who tried to have revenge sex with Dane and have it not mean anything? And it totally backfired and I fell for him?”

“Trust me, I have no intention of falling for Grant,” Brenna said, her voice cheerfully light as she flipped on her computer. Even as she said it, though, the words were sour in her mouth and she couldn’t help but glance around the main lodge. She didn’t want Grant hearing those words. Why, she had no idea. So his feelings wouldn’t get hurt? She made a face at herself. Like she cared if he started having feelings.

Mental note, she told herself, do something to annoy Grant today. It had been a few days since she’d done something like that. Time to remind him that complacency was for wimps.

“Well, I’d love to hear more but I have to run.” Miranda grinned at her and headed for the kitchen. “I’m going to want a full recap via email, though.”

Brenna gave her a cheerful mock-salute as her friend disappeared into the kitchen to kiss Dane good-bye one last time. Then she got up and approached Grant’s desk. Nothing was out of place, his office supplies neatly lined up and organized. His calendar datebook was laid open to the current date, and on impulse, she pulled the page out just because that would irritate him.

Then, guilt nagged her and she put it back. She settled for changing the settings on his ergonomic chair and adjusting the lighting on his monitor. Small, harmless irritations instead of her normal insouciant destruction. Why couldn’t she pull off the big ones anymore?

Was she getting soft toward him? Just because he was good in bed? Was she dickmatized? Hell.

Brenna grabbed the ripped-out page, crumpled it into a ball, and tossed it into a nearby wastebasket. Screw that.

She worked—okay, emailed some friends in between updating the expenses spreadsheet, but whatever—for about an hour before Grant came in to the main lodge. “You slept late,” she commented in a flirty voice. “All worn out?”

“Just thinking.”

Uh-oh. She watched him sit down at his desk and didn’t even experience a twinge of pleasure when he frowned and adjusted his chair. He was thinking. That was never a good sign. Grant already thought too much as it was. The fact that he’d actually put time aside to think meant that she was not going to be pleased with whatever it was.