He suppressed the disappointment, knowing full well how emotions were for her, how he had put her on the spot. But he had faith she had deeper feeling for him, deeper than caring. Or maybe that was hope. No, he wasn’t going there. He was all in and had to believe Brigid would get there. Or this was all for nothing.
She wrapped her hands around his neck and pulled him down for a deep, sensual kiss, pulling him back into the moment. “But I want to give this a try, Grady. I truly care about you, more than I ever thought possible. Can you give me a chance?”
“I’ll give you all the time you need.”
And, in that instant, she took charge of their interlude, wrapping a leg around his waist and flipping him onto his back, a seductive smile on her face.
“Now, where were we?”
* * *
Brigid braced herself on her knees, straddling Grady’s abdomen, and smirked at his stunned face. She hadn’t thought she could see him any more surprised than when he announced he loved her. Clearly that declaration was not supposed to come out yet, and while it certainly freaked her out, somehow it also oddly comforted her. While they both figured out what their next steps were, Grady had something she wanted, and she’d like to think she had something he wanted too, and they had an entire night to kill. So, she took over. She was good at that.
She tossed off her tank top and threw it somewhere to the side and ran her fingers down his chest, the cotton of the worn t-shirt soft under her skin. “While I’m practically naked, you have a ways to catch up.” She slid her hands under his shirt and pushed it up, feeling the rippling of his muscles as he tensed at her touch. “I want this off.”
He obligingly lifted in a modified crunch and let her pull it off of him. She grinned. “Show off.”
He quirked a grin. “You wanted it off. I’m just following orders. Now what?”
She scraped her fingernails down his chest, and he shivered. At least the torture of the manicure was worth something. God, he truly was the best-looking man she had seen in forever. Most of the men she dealt with never looked as tan or fit like Grady. With the tip of her index finger, she traced the little angled indentations at his lower abdomen, his obliques or something she’d heard them called. Giving into temptation, she bent over and traced it with her tongue, a masculine groan and a jerk of his stomach responding to her touch. She grinned against his skin, loving the power at the moment. They had never really slowed down like this, never took their time during sex. She had really been missing out.
She rubbed her butt against his denim-covered erection, the rough material scraping against her skin and triggering little sparks between her thighs. Her panties were soaked, and she desperately wanted relief, but his jeans were in the way, not to mention her own shorts. She really hadn’t thought this through. Damn, she should have had him take his jeans off before flipping him.
She undid the button at the top of his jeans and tugged on the zipper, her hands shaking in her haste. His hand quickly stopped her. “Let me. Please.”
She stepped off and quickly shucked her boy shorts while he slipped off his own jeans and briefs. She expected him to take over, but he laid back down and stretched out, staring at her expectantly. “I’m all yours.”
She stared at his erection, her mouth watering. Her hands reached out and stroked him from root to tip, gently, then a little rougher as he groaned, encouraging her movements. She bent to take him in her mouth, but he stopped her.
“I won’t be able to last.”
She sat back on her heels, uncertain. He sat up and leaned over her, slowly pushing her back on the bed, watching her carefully the whole time, as if making sure she was okay. He got up and went to his duffle bag, rifling about for something. Finally, he came up with a box of condoms. She arched her eyebrow.
“Feeling pretty confident, weren’t you?”
“Hopeful.”
He tossed a few packets on the bed and came back over her, settling between her legs. He took her lips in a drugging kiss, sweeping her back into the heat of passion in an instant, the heat rising fast and furious until arousal pounded deep inside, insistent and demanding. She ran one of her legs up his thigh to his hip, pulling him toward her, tilting her hips into him, taunting him. His cock rubbed against her sensitive folds and she moaned into his mouth.
He dropped kisses down her throat and began a steady path down her body, intent on his purpose. She shifted on the bed, but he held her firmly in place until he was between her thighs, his shoulders holding her legs apart. He placed a kiss at the top of her neatly trimmed mound—thank God for the spa day—then lower for a more intimate kiss. He traced his tongue through her damp folds and her breath stuttered to a stop, then started again, harsh, jerky, and unsteady. He built her up to a shuddering climax, quick and fast, until she came with a loud cry. But, instead of letting her rest, he plunged his fingers deep inside, finding that magic spot that always drove her higher and pushed her over again into another orgasm.
By the time she had come down from that one, he had sheathed himself in a condom and was poised at her entrance. He stared at her intently, waiting for her to recognize him, then he sank into her in one deep thrust to the hilt. She arched into him, groaning at the fullness, and he waited, letting her adjust to his size. When she started moving restlessly against him, he began thrusting, shallow digs, then deeper glides, alternating motions designed to keep her on edge, driving her higher and higher until she came again, clenching around him, back arching as she clawed his back. He followed her over and collapsed, rolling to the side, pulling her with him, both panting.
She wiped her damp hair out of her face and gently kissed him, stroking the side of his face, the only way she knew how to express how she was feeling. He turned his head and placed a kiss in her palm. She smiled and laid her head against his chest and closed her eyes, content.
* * *
After Grady had disposed of the condom and cleaned them up, he had pulled them both under the covers to get some sleep. He lay on his back. Brigid snuggled close to him, his arm wrapped around her. She never cuddled after sex. She never actually got up and left but there was always a barrier between them, a wall Brigid put up to keep everything in its place—him, work, her family. Never the twain shall meet.
This week, something had changed between them, something fundamental. It started when he pushed for more, but it wouldn’t have gone anywhere if she had not made a move, even unconsciously. Maybe it was the truth or dare game or his question or, more likely, her answer, which surprised everyone, although they had all been smart enough to say nothing.
He had very nearly made a monumental error admitting his feelings, something guaranteed to drive Brigid screaming from the room. He wasn’t ashamed of his feelings. He’d known for a while he was falling in love with her, despite all of his concerns about their differences. Surprisingly, she didn’t get up and leave. Instead, she became even more engaged, even more passionate than usual, and he suspected it was the only way she could show her emotions. She still had those walls around her heart, heavy-duty protections that would take more than a carnival and a game of truth or dare to demolish.
Fortunately, Grady was trained to break things down and rebuild them better, stronger, and more enduring. He could be patient. She was worth it.
ChapterTwenty
Brigid woke slowly the next morning to clouds and dark, threatening skies. The other side of the bed was cool, indicating Grady had gotten up much sooner and not woken her up. If she hadn’t seen the rumpled sheets, she wouldn’t have believed last night had actually happened. Then she swung her legs out and the soreness between her thighs was another hint that last night had been real.