The Expert’s Guide to Driving a Man Wild (Bluebonnet #3)(56)
Author: Jessica Clare

“No, what?” Her words were achingly soft.

“It’s not safe to pull bodies down from Mount Everest. The air’s so thin that helicopters can’t fly, and it’s too risky for rescuers to drag the dead down. So they just . . . sit there. In the snow. Her body’s still up there, somewhere. And everyone else who climbs the mountain just walks past it to get to the summit, because they need that fix, too. And meanwhile, I wasn’t able to bury my wife because her thrill-seeking was more important to her than marriage.”

Brenna said nothing for a long moment. There was so much self-loathing and self-hate in Grant’s words that she wasn’t entirely sure how to process it at first. Then, she gently asked, “So why do you blame yourself?”

“Because I didn’t stop her. I didn’t put my foot down when she started putting herself in danger. Because I loved her and thought that she’d have enough common sense not to get into dangerous situations. Because I didn’t tell her no. Because I cared for her and supported her even when she started sleeping around and doing drugs. Because I thought if I was patient, she’d grow out of the phase and we could go back to being just us again.” He sighed heavily. “And because I wasn’t exciting enough for her. I always wondered if I could have done more to make her happy.”

“So you feel guilty?”

“I should, shouldn’t I?” Grant’s mouth twisted angrily. “But I mostly feel resentment toward her. She destroyed both of our lives, all because she needed some kind of f**king rush. That I wasn’t enough to make her happy, and she f**ked up my life, too. I think any love I had for her or her memory has been destroyed by resentment.”

“Oh, Grant,” Brenna whispered, her heart aching for him. “It wasn’t you. It was never you. She was just looking for something that she didn’t have inside herself. That’s all.”

His fingers laced with hers, still clutching her tight, as if he were afraid to let go of her. His gaze locked on their twined fingers. “So now you know why I seem a bit anal-retentive about things. Why I like order and schedules and precautions. Because those are what keep you safe.”

And it was why he didn’t want her going out in the rain on an ATV to chase after someone. Not because he was afraid she’d hurt herself—but that she’d get addicted to the rush that came with being in danger, and then he’d lose her, too. Brenna’s heart softened and she pulled him against her, cradling his dark head against her neck. He was stiff against her for a moment, and then relaxed, his arms wrapping around her waist.

Brenna’s thoughts were in turmoil. Grant had always seemed like he was so together, so in control. In reality? He seemed just as broken as she was. He just hid it even better than she did. Every day that she was with him, she found out he was more like her than she’d ever imagined possible.

Her hand rubbed his big shoulders, his skin warm. “Why don’t you take a shower, baby? You’ll feel better.”

But he didn’t move, though she felt his mouth press against her neck. “Take one with me?”

She nodded and wriggled out of his grasp, getting to her feet. “We need to get out of these wet clothes first.”

A half smile crooked his mouth, almost wistful in its sadness. “Why does that sound like a pick-up line?”

“Because it is one? Now hush and let my fingers do the talking.” She unbuckled his belt and pushed it aside, then went for his zipper. Her fingers rubbed up and down his groin as she slowly moved the zipper down, and she heard his swift intake of breath that told her he was paying quite a bit of attention to what she was doing. With a wickedly happy purr that she could turn him on so quickly, Brenna tugged at his damp clothes until they fell to his ankles, and leaned in and gave a kiss to his stiffening cock, then flicked him with her tongue.

He groaned, his hands going to her damp hair. “You’re still dressed.”

“Don’t worry,” she told him. “I plan on fixing that right away.” And she stood up and shimmied out of her top, then peeled her wet jeans down her legs. Excitement was coursing through her, but more than that, she wanted to distract Grant, to comfort him and make him realize that he was wonderful and exciting to her, and that his first wife had been an idiot.

She kicked aside her wet clothes and sauntered past him to the still-running shower, leaning in to test the water. Still hot. “Come on, stud,” she told him as she stepped into the water. “You are going to receive one primo rub down, courtesy of your lovely assistant.”

“My assistant is more than lovely,” he said in a low, husky voice, and cupped her cheek. “She’s stunningly beautiful and kind.” Another grin touched his mouth, this one easier than before. “She’s a little weird but I’m learning to like that.”

Brenna winked at him and poured a huge dose of bath gel into her hand, then rubbed her palms together. She planted them on his chest and began to rub vigorously, lathering him. She started out brisk, anyhow. The more she touched those slick, soapy muscles, the more fascinated she became with his body. After a few moments of washing, she began to slowly trace her fingers over his pectorals, then dragged them up and down his abdomen, dipping into his belly button. “You sure do have a sexy body.”

“I have an even sexier assistant,” he told her, leaning in to kiss her shoulder even as she reached behind him and soaped his hard bu**ocks. “I’m a pretty lucky guy.”

“You are,” she told him, and grabbed the bottle of bath gel again. She squirted a long rope of it over his shoulders, then tossed the container aside, putting her hands on him again.

“Are you using enough soap?”

“Maybe,” she said in a low voice. “Maybe I just like putting my hands all over you.” And she began to rub the streaming lather on him all over again.

He dragged a hand across his shoulders, scooping up some of the bath gel. “You’ve got enough on me that I could wash you, too.” He began to rub her arms, then slid his hands to her front, flicking her ni**les.

A hot rush of pleasure shot through her and Brenna moaned. “I think I need to get your back, baby,” she told him, even as she stepped closer. Her arms went around his neck and she began to kiss him as she stroked soapy hands up and down his shoulders.

“You kind of suck at washing,” he told her while caressing her skin.

“You were paying attention? I clearly need to up my game.” And she dragged the tip of her tongue across his lower lip.