The Expert's Guide to Driving a Man Wild (25 page)

He licked at the smooth skin of her neck, and then pushed her shirt up, his hand sliding under the material to caress her bared breast. The curve of it was the perfect fit to his hand, and he thumbed her nipple, rolling it back and forth into stiffness. His other hand slid to her other breast, and when he began to play with both nipples, she moaned.

“Still down for some more cuddling?” he asked.

She shivered, but her breasts pressed against his hand. “What else did you have in mind?”

He cupped one of her breasts and tilted it so the nipple was pointed toward him. Then he leaned in and brushed his lips over it.

Brenna cried out softly, clinging to him for support.

He tongued her breast, circling the stiff nipple and then licking it. He sucked on it for a long moment, then turned to look up at her. “More?”

“Actually,” she breathed, panting hard. “I think I’d really like my deep dicking now.”

He thumbed her nipple again, then smacked her ass. “Then let’s get upstairs.”

She shimmied up the ladder with a wiggle that drove him crazy with lust. It didn’t matter that she was wearing someone else’s cast-off jeans and one of his shirts. She was outrageously sexy to him. It was evident in her smiles, her playful tone of voice, and just the way she looked at the world. He couldn’t get enough of her. Never would.

Once they were both up the ladder, she headed straight for the bed, tearing off her clothing. He grabbed a condom from the dresser and began to get rid of his own clothes, tearing them off in his haste. He’d never learned to undress so fast as when he was with Brenna.

She finished undressing first and came over to his side, helping him take off his clothing as she leaned in for another kiss. He kissed her, letting her tug at his shirt even as he played with one of her bare nipples, loving how distracted she got. In every other aspect, she could distract him within moments. It felt glorious to turn the tables on her. His fingers tugged at her nipple, coaxing and teasing it, and she whimpered when he leaned down to bite at the stiff tip. All her playfulness had vanished and was replaced by sheer need. “Grant,” she panted. “I need you. Need this.”

He let his half-torn shirt slide off his shoulders and shook it to the ground. Condom still in hand, he tore the package open and began to roll it on as Brenna ran her hands on his chest. When it was on, he grabbed her and dragged her to the bed. They fell in a heap together, and then Brenna’s hands were all over him, hungrily clutching at his skin. Her hand slid to his cock and she spread her legs wide, trying to guide him into her. Grant’s hand covered hers, and he guided himself in, then slammed home.

“Ah!” Her first cry was a shriek of delight, and she wrapped her arm around his neck, holding him against her. “Yes!”

“Is this what you wanted?” he gritted between thrusts, driving into her.

“Oh God, yes. Fuck me so deep.” Her head threw back, her mouth half open with pleasure.

Grant began to thrust harder, pounding into her with as much speed and power as possible. He’d have been afraid that he was going to hurt her with the force of his thrusts, but she clung to him and kept asking for more. Harder. Stronger. So he complied, each stroke sinking deep, only to pull back and roughly pound into her again.

Brenna clung to him, crying out with each wild thrust. She hooked her legs around his waist and lifted her hips with each thrust, demanding more.

Grant’s control was close to shattering—it wouldn’t be a long fuck, but a short, violent one. He held off, determined to make this as good for her as he could. He wouldn’t be able to stand a long, slow, torturous fucking. They were both too worked up. Even now, Brenna was nearly insensible, softly crying out his name over and over with each thrust, her nails digging into his back so hard that she was drawing blood.

And then, he felt her pussy spasm around him, clenching hard. “Oh God,” she moaned. “Oh, I’m coming. God, I love you.”

His heart skipped a beat at her wild admission. She loved him? It was the first time she’d ever admitted it. He was so startled by it that he lost his control. The orgasm he’d been fighting back rushed over him and he came with a muttered curse and collapsed on top of Brenna.

She clung to him, her skin stuck to his, and gave a long, drawn-out sigh of pleasure.

Grant kissed her one last time, breathing hard. “Did you mean it?”

She blinked at him, still dazed from her own wild orgasm. “Mean it?”

“That you love me?”

“Oh.” Her eyes got soft and she smiled at him. “I do. Is that so bad?”

“It’s not bad at all. I love you, too.”

She snuggled closer to him, pulling off his now smudged and completely askew eyeglasses and tossing them on the nightstand. “It freaks me out a little, I admit. I’m still scared to be in love.”

“I won’t hurt you,” he told her, stroking a hand down her arm. “I’d never hurt you.”

“It’s just . . . vulnerable.”

“It is,” he agreed. “But it’s also incredible. When I’m with you, I’m happier than I’ve ever been.”

“Ironic, isn’t it? You used to hate working with me.”

“Oh, I still hate working with you,” Grant said, grinning. “You’re a shitty employee. But you make an incredible girlfriend.”

“So much for just pretending. I guess we’re not very good at that.”

“Nope. I’m not complaining.”

She gave another blissful sigh. “Me either.”

Grant stroked her hair. She was so beautiful after sex, all sleepy and tousled. Purple strands of her bangs stuck everywhere. “I still want to marry you.”

Brenna considered this for a moment, then tucked her head against his shoulder. “Would I have to wear a ring?”

“Not if you don’t want to.”

She thought about it, and then shrugged. “Make it a shitty ring, so I won’t feel bad if I lose it.”

“I . . . can do that. Is that a yes?”

She gave him a mischievous look and then licked his chin. “It’s not a no.”

“I’ll take that,” Grant said, and leaned in to kiss her again. “One shitty ring, coming right up.”

Y
ou’re going to have to take that piece of crap off for the photo shoot,” Miranda told her. “It doesn’t match your outfit.”

Brenna protectively held her hand close to her breast, scowling at her friend. “It doesn’t matter. It’s my engagement ring.”

“It came from a candy machine,” Miranda pointed out. “I can’t believe that Grant’s a millionaire and he cheaped out like that on your ring.”

“I asked him to,” Brenna said, beaming as she extended her hand and admired her ring again. It was a cheap piece of crap, but it was
her
cheap piece of crap. They’d gone out to dinner to celebrate, just the two of them on their first official date. As they’d entered the restaurant, they’d noticed a candy vending machine full of plastic bubble packs with a toy inside. Grant had stopped in his tracks and started to search his pockets for change.

“What is it?” she’d asked, and he’d pointed at a small play ring at the front of the vending machine. And he’d sank a quarter in and tried to get it for her. Three quarters later, and he’d had to go inside for change. Twenty-seven quarters later, they’d handed out the extra toys to kids who passed by with their families, and Grant had finally retrieved the ring. It was a total piece of junk—the back was a plastic c-clasp obviously meant for smaller fingers, and the purple stone was more of a gaudy bead.

But she’d loved it, and she loved that he took her hand and slipped it onto her finger as if it were the most important thing in his life. And he’d told her he loved her all over again.

Brenna had told him that she wanted a cheap ring because it wouldn’t bother her if she tossed it. But now that she had her ring? She loved it, and she’d be damned if she switched it out for anything. It made her happy just to see it.

“Elise, tell her that ugly ring is going to ruin the shot,” Miranda insisted. She leaned out of her chair, the huge pink curlers in her dark brown locks sticking up wildly. In front of her, Beth Ann wielded a can of hairspray, enveloping her in a cloud of fine mist and then waving a hand to dissipate the smell.

Her name called, Elise dutifully came over to the other side of the salon, where Brenna and Miranda sat. They’d volunteered to be the test subjects for the pin-up photo shoot, and had arrived for an early morning of pampering. Brenna’s hair had been curled and pulled back on the sides in a mimic of Bettie Page’s hairstyle from an old photo, and she wore a pink and black diner T-shirt and a short, pleated black skirt that barely covered the frilly, pink ruffled-rump panties she was wearing underneath. Her legs were clad in pink thigh highs and she wore black high-heeled Mary Janes. Atop her head, a paper diner hat had been artfully perched, and her makeup and nails had been perfectly done, thanks to Beth Ann’s ministrations. Looking in the mirror, Brenna had to admit that she did look a lot like a pin-up model.

At her side, Miranda sat in a tight white sweater with a blue peter pan collar and matching blue poodle skirt. Her hair was being carefully teased into several large rolled pin curls atop her head.

Elise studied Brenna’s ring for a long moment, then shrugged. “It’s whimsical. It’s not like it won’t fit the theme. If she wants to keep it on, she can.”

Miranda made a face at Elise. “Party pooper.”

Brenna stuck her tongue out at Miranda, then grinned and hopped out of her chair. “Are we ready now? All this lipstick’s driving me crazy.” For the shoot, Beth Ann had slicked Brenna’s lips with a bright red gloss that looked gorgeous, but tasted awful. And of course she kept licking her lips by accident.

“We’re ready,” Elise told her. “I need you to go stand in the center of the sheet.”

Brenna trotted over to the area that had been staged for the photo shoot. Beth Ann’s tiny salon had been temporarily transformed. Pale beige sheets had been draped over the windows and across the flooring, creating a neutral area for the shot to be set up. The barber chair had been pushed to one side, and a white stool sat in the midst of the sheets. On the far corners of the room, lamps had been set up on tripods to make sure that the room would have the best lighting possible.

“So do I just sit on this stool?” Brenna asked, dusting her hands over the ruffles on the backside of her panties. They were so ruffly and her skirt so short that it kind of stuck out in the back, almost like she was wearing a crinoline.

“Actually, the stool’s for Miranda.” Elise hurried forward and moved it out of the way. “If you’re up for a slightly racier shot, I have a few ideas to go with your waitress costume.”

On the far side of the room, Beth Ann squirted more hairspray over Miranda’s curls and laughed. “Up for a slightly racier shot? Do you know who you’re talking to?”

Brenna rubbed her hands gleefully. “I am so ready for something dirty. Bring it on.”

“Well, these are pinups,” Elise told her, bustling to her prop box on the other side of the room. She tore open some sort of plastic package, the rustling filling the room. “The idea is fun and naughtiness more than blatant dirt.” She glanced over her shoulder and smiled at Brenna. “Not that you couldn’t make that work.”

“You know I could,” Brenna said, and flexed her arm, grinning.

She was glad Elise had stayed in Bluebonnet. The girl had seemed so lonely when she’d arrived. But since undertaking her new business scheme with Beth Ann, she’d been blossoming out of her remote shell. Now when the girls got together for drinks and girl chat, Elise was usually with them. They made a fun foursome, and Elise’s quiet personality was a good foil to Brenna’s brashness—not that Elise didn’t occasionally zing them with a mouthy quip of her own.

She fit right in, Brenna thought. And Grant seemed to like having his sister around, which was nice, too. Elise did spend a lot of time at the ranch lately, but that was to be expected, Brenna supposed. She just hoped Elise didn’t accompany her back to the ranch today, because she was feeling mighty amorous in her cute spanky panties, and the guys were all out on runs with clients . . . which meant that she and Grant would have the lodge entirely to themselves.

And they hadn’t quite christened the shed yet. The kitchen, yes. Grant’s desk, yes. Her desk, oh yes. The sofa? Yep. But not the shed. Seemed a crime to not include it.

“All right,” Elise said, brandishing a long, thin stick at her. A shish kebab skewer. “I’m going to need you to hold this.”

Brenna frowned at it, curious. “What am I supposed to do with it?”

Elise stuck a hot dog on the end of the skewer. “Bend over and pretend to eat that.”

Brenna eyed it, then Elise. “You dirty, dirty girl. I like the way you think.” She winked and leaned over, flipping her skirt up so her panties were on full display, and pretended like she was about to take a bite out of the hot dog. In the background, she could hear Miranda giggling.

“Perfect,” Elise said, and put out a hand. “Now hold that pose.”

“And don’t deep throat it,” Miranda called out helpfully. “It’s not Grant.”

“Of course not,” Brenna called back. “It’s much too tiny. Grant’s got a lot more meat on his hot dog.”

Behind the camera, Elise made a gagging sound.

Brenna just grinned and slid her tongue out as if to lick the frank poised against her lips.

 • • • 

Brenna pulled Grant’s car up to the main lodge and pulled the bag of hot dogs out of the seat. Water was leaking from the opened package, and she winced at the sight of the droplets on the leather. She looked around for a napkin, didn’t find one, and shrugged and headed out of the car. She’d be back to wipe it later, or Grant’d be wondering why his lovely Audi smelled like wieners. A hot dog cookout for dinner sounded nice, though, so she’d taken the extras home.

She was still dressed in the pinup girl outfit, though most of her thick lipstick was gone. They’d gotten some fun shots, and Elise promised to email her some later after she’d touched them up. Brenna wanted a print of one of the hot dog ones so she could frame it and put it on Grant’s desk to replace the picture of Heather that had been permanently retired. Thinking of Grant put a bit of a bounce in her step as she imagined what he’d think of her frilly panties. And how he’d strip them off her.

When she got into the lodge, she looked around in surprise. Grant wasn’t at his normal seat, and it was during office hours. “Grant?” she called out, curious.

His head popped up over the couch. “You’re home?” His gaze went to her outfit and hair. “Holy shit.”

She grinned and gave her skirt a saucy little flick. “You like?”

“Definitely.” He looked extremely appreciative, his gaze moving up and down over her body. “Damn. I can’t wait to see those pictures.” He seemed momentarily distracted, then shook his head. “I didn’t know you were coming home so early, though—”

She started forward, amused. “Were you taking a nap? Because I can think of a few other uses for that couch right about now—”

A high-pitched yap interrupted her.

Brenna blinked in surprise, stopping short. “What was that?”

Grant hefted a small, squirming beige bundle into the air. “Your surprise.”

“My surprise?” She started forward again, staring at the squirming puppy in Grant’s hands. Short, fawn-colored fur covered a wriggling sausage body and tiny paws. Two bug eyes stared out in opposite directions from a wrinkly black muzzle. It was hideous. It was so adorable it made her want to pinch it. “You . . . got me a puppy? Why?”

He got to his feet and headed toward her. When he got to her side, he pushed the tiny puppy into her hands. It immediately began to lick her chin, then her fingers. “Because I remembered in the video that you showed me that you said you always wanted a dog. And I thought it might be a good way for you to get your feet wet with the whole ‘being tied down’ thing. This dog’s small enough that you can take him anywhere.”

Tears burned her eyes. He’d remembered that she’d said that? She hadn’t even remembered it. The puppy continued to lick her, and Brenna pulled it away from her to get a good look at it, and laughed through her tears. “It’s really damn ugly.”

“It’s a pug,” he told her, pleased at her reaction. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close to him as she snuggled the puppy against her again. “They’re supposed to be very interesting personalities.”

“His eyes aren’t even facing the same direction,” she blubbered happily, unable to stop crying. Luckily, the puppy was there to lick away her tears. “He looks like Gollum from
Lord of the Rings
.”

Grant laughed. “Sounds like as good a name as any.” He leaned in to kiss her cheek, and then pulled away. “Why do you smell like hot dogs?”

“Because of the photos,” she told him, entranced with the puppy. “You got me a present?”

“Of course. I’ll get you a present every day for the rest of your life, if you like. But I know you wouldn’t like that.”

She smiled. He knew her well. Within twenty-four hours of the okay from him to “redecorate” his cabin, she’d removed all the furnishings except the bare essentials, and had denuded the house of most everything except a framed photo or two. She’d even cleaned out his cabinets, tossing extra canned soups and power bars. Hell, he could have sworn that he’d come in for breakfast yesterday morning and caught her throwing away plates.

It didn’t matter. She was more at ease in his newly spartan home, so he didn’t care if a few throw rugs or decor pieces were gone. The furniture was there, and Brenna was there. He had everything he needed.

“Gollum it is,” she said with a happy grin, and then leaned over to kiss him. “You’re the best man I’ve ever known.”

“I can’t say I don’t have an ulterior motive.”

“Oh?” She smiled, still cuddling the squirming puppy to her. “I think I can live with giving you a week of morning blowjobs.”

“That . . . wasn’t what I meant, though I’ll definitely take it.” Grant grinned and tugged at a curled purple lock of hair. “I was talking about your smile.”

“Oh.” She laughed. “Well, I suppose that’s important, too.” This was a good segue, though. “I bought you a present, too, but it’s not here. We’re getting it this weekend.”

He looked surprised at her words, and a pleased look crossed his face. “You got me something?”

“Something as big to you as this puppy is to me,” Brenna told him, holding Gollum aloft so he could lick Grant’s chin.

“Uh-oh,” Grant said warily. “Am I going to like this present?”

“Probably not,” she told him. “But I’ll be strapped to you the entire way down.”

“Entire way down?” His eyebrows shot up and a look of horror crossed his face. “What did you do?”

She gave him an innocent look. “I might have signed us up for a tandem skydiving session to get you over your fear of control.”

“You
what
?”

“Don’t shout.” She shoved the puppy in his face. “You’re going to scare Gollum.”

“Brenna,” he said in a warning tone.

“It’ll be good for us,” she said, leaning in to kiss him. “Don’t you want to be tied up to me?”

“Not if someone’s going to push us off a plane,” he grumbled.

She gave him a mock-pout and held the puppy up again. It began to lick Grant’s glasses. “Then I guess you’ll have to take Gollum back.”

He pushed the puppy’s head away and gave Brenna an exasperated look. “You really want to do this?”

“Well, no,” Brenna said, pulling the puppy close and tucking it under her chin. She began to rock it against her chest. “I’ve never given it much thought. But since we’re all about conquering our fears to make ourselves better people, if I can get a puppy, you can go skydiving.”

“I’ll go,” he said slowly. “On two conditions.”

“What’s that?”

“First,” he said, and pulled up the edge of her skirt. “That you wear those panties for the rest of the day, because they are smoking hot.”

“Deal,” she said with a grin. “What’s the second condition?”

Grant gazed down at her with a look of infinite tenderness. “That you tell me you love me again.”

“I’ll tell you every day for the rest of our lives,” she vowed to him, and leaned in to give him a kiss.

“You still smell like hot dogs,” he murmured against her mouth.