The Expert’s Guide to Driving a Man Wild (Bluebonnet #3)(57)
Author: Jessica Clare

He groaned. “You’re really good at that.”

“Upping my game or licking you?”

“Both.”

She ran her tongue along the hard line of his jaw as her hand slid to his ass and squeezed. “I could lick you all over, you know.”

He held her to him, his hands running all over her body. “You’re so beautiful, Brenna. When I’m with you, I forget about everything else.”

For some reason, that made her absurdly pleased. And now she wanted to please him even more. She took her hand and wrapped it around the hard length of him, giving him a slippery stroke. Grant’s breath hissed out of his mouth and then he clung to the shower bar, his gaze hot on her as she stroked his c**k with her slick, soapy hands. Slow, excruciatingly tender motions. She took her time, not moving so quick that he’d come instantly. This was all about pleasure, and this was all for him. She wanted to make him feel better.

He leaned against the tile wall of the shower, eyes closing when she increased the pressure of her fist as she stroked him. “Brenna, let up. Let me get a condom.”

She stroked him as she considered it. Then she pressed her other hand to his chest to pin him in place, and she stroked her fist around his c**k again. “Nah. I like it here.”

His eyes grew dark with need. “You don’t want me to touch you?”

“Oh, I do. But I like touching you so much that I’m kind of loath to stop.” Stroke. “So I thought I might just continue to have my evil way with you.” Stroke. “Until you lose control.” Stroke. “Because I think I’d like to see that.”

And she tightened her fist and squeezed hard. “Now say my name,” she teased. “And tell me that you belong to me.”

“Brenna,” he bit out, his voice tight with desire. His gaze hadn’t left her face for an instant, utterly focused on her. “I am totally and completely yours.”

Oh, how she liked hearing that. It made her wet and excited all over again, and she stroked him again as a reward. “Tell me again?”

“Yours,” he bit out, and then his hand wrapped around hers and he began to stroke his c**k with her hand, using her hard and rough.

A moment later, he came on her belly, his gaze totally riveted to her. And she was about to come herself, just from watching him. It was a mixture of eroticism and satisfaction, and something else she couldn’t quite name. Neither one of them moved for a long moment as he panted, trying to get his breath back, even though the water was growing steadily colder.

He hauled her close and wrapped his arms around her, burying his face against her neck and in her wet hair. “I love you, Brenna.”

And she opened her mouth before she realized it, then snapped it shut.

She had almost said “I love you” back to him. That was the weird, niggling little sensation she’d been feeling all afternoon. It wasn’t lust or pride or possession. It was all of those wrapped into one. And it was love.

Brenna was in love with Grant.

And that really, really freaked her out.

THIRTEEN

That evening, they lay in bed together. Grant was asleep, his arm wrapped possessively over her torso, one hand clutching her breast, his h*ps spooned against her own. Brenna, however, couldn’t sleep. In her mind, she kept going over that afternoon.

Grant’s first wife had been a selfish woman, Brenna decided. Oh, she’d been blond and cute and happy enough in the photos that Grant had of her, but she’d clearly made him miserable. She’d also made him think he was the problem in the relationship, even though every single sign pointed to something clearly unstable inside of Heather’s head and not Grant’s. What kind of woman went from mild-mannered college student to rhino-hunting, shark-swimming, Mount-Everest-climbing swinger who needed constant thrills?

The kind of woman who wrecked her husband in her wake and didn’t even realize it, Brenna thought, her hand stroking over Grant’s larger one. She would never do that to him.

Her hand stilled. She had secrets of her own, though. Just as horrible and maybe even more embarrassing than that. Secrets that had f**ked her up in the head and made it impossible for her to have normal relationships. So who was she to say that she’d be there for Grant?

She couldn’t. Her life was the way it was because it was safest.

But for the first time, Brenna wanted more than what she had. And she didn’t know how to handle that.

She needed to talk to Miranda and Beth Ann. Maybe they’d be able to help her see things clearly. Because right now? She feared things were doomed, and she was going to hurt Grant just as badly as Heather did, if not worse. If he knew her past he’d want nothing to do with her. He’d leave and she’d be left picking up the pieces.

And that thought hurt. A lot.

She crept out of bed a bit later, when she was sure that Grant was soundly sleeping and wouldn’t wake up. She pulled on a pair of his pajamas and headed down to the main lodge, yawning.

Grant needed something to cheer him up, and she knew the perfect way to distract him. Sitting down at her desk, she pulled out the keys to the supply closet and headed there. Sure enough, at the bottom of the closet, there were a few rolls of cheerfully bright wrapping paper left over from Pop’s birthday last month. They’d jokingly bought him the most childish, garish paper they could find, knowing he’d get a kick out of it. And there was plenty left over . . . and more than enough for her to cover Grant’s desk.

Grabbing a bright pink roll of princess paper, she picked up the scissors and set to work. Strange how she’d swap a few hours of sleep and hours of her time just to get a smile on Grant’s face.

Yeah, she definitely needed to meet with her friends as soon as possible, because she had it bad.

• • •

At Brenna’s request, Beth Ann and Miranda met her at Maya Loco for lunch and drinks. It was the busiest time for the restaurant, but it was also the only time Miranda and Beth Ann could both meet. Beth Ann hated leaving her salon for long periods of time, and Miranda closed the library for her lunch hour.

Brenna had simply left the main lodge while Grant had been out at the office supply store a few towns over. He’d come back and wonder where she was, but she’d left him a goofy little note. Roses are red, violets are blue, went to lunch with the girls, but I’ll come back and blow you.

It wasn’t the first time she’d abandoned her job midday, but the first time she’d left Grant a note so he wouldn’t worry. Hell, it was downright domestic of her, and that was concerning. After all, now she was thinking about Grant’s feelings and his emotions. She never had before. And even as she left him the note? She felt a little . . . anxious. Trapped. Worried. Because they’d gone from casual sex to emotional sex within the space of a week or two, and it was freaking her out. Two weeks ago, the last thing she wanted was a real relationship. Now?