The Expert's Guide to Driving a Man Wild (A Bluebonnet Novel)

by Clare, Jessica

  “Did you . . .” he began.

  “Now why would you assume it’s me?” She fluttered her eyelashes at him innocently.

  “Because you’re the devil incarnate,” Grant said, but the words had no sting in them. Rather, they had a husky note of affection.

  She’d clearly have to prank him more often. The look on his face? Total turn-on. Brenna licked her lips. “Takes a bad boy to know a bad girl.”

  Brenna could see the look on his face and knew exactly the moment that his amusement changed to total lust. It was like a wave rolling over him. His stance changed, stiffening slightly. Then she saw his jaw clench, the smile going tight, his eyes growing dark. His hand tightened around the coffee mug and his focus went entirely on her.

  Which naturally made her nipples harden.

  She might have made a sound in the back of her throat. Maybe. Just maybe.

  Grant set down his coffee mug. Both of them ignored the crinkle of the foil. “Brenna,” he said in a low voice. “Come here.”

  Oh God, why did that authoritative sound in his voice make her so incredibly wet? She stood up, pushing her chair backward, and then stepped out from behind her desk. She moved toward him one step, and then stopped. Why make this so easy for him? “Is there a problem?”

  “My desk is covered in foil.” He said it like the words were foreplay all on their own. And she shivered with excitement.

  “Does this mean I’ve been naughty?” Her voice was so incredibly husky that she was surprised she didn’t fall to the floor and throw her legs open in blatant invitation. “You going to punish me?”

  “You might like that too much,” he told her, moving toward her. And he came to stand before her, just inches away, and gazed down at her.

  She practically vibrated with need. “You should totally fire me,” she whispered.

  “I should. At the very least, I should spank you.” His voice was caressing. “Teach you a lesson.”

  Brenna bit her lip at the mental image, her eyes nearly rolling back in her head out of sheer desire. Why wasn’t he touching her? She needed it so badly. Her hands fluttered at her side, and she wasn’t sure what to do with them. Touch him? Touch herself? Slap the man for torturing her with all this conversation and not giving her the sex she needed? So she asked, “What kind of lesson?”

  “The kind where I take you back to my place,” he said in a low, husky voice, looming over her. He was so close that she could feel the heat of his breath, dancing along sensitive flesh. He smelled sweet and clean, like toothpaste. Who knew that minty fresh would be such an aphrodisiac? “And I throw you down on the couch . . .”

  “Yes?”

  “And make you find a use for all of this foil you’ve wasted.”

  Spoilsport. “Guess I’ll have to wrap your desk in condoms next time,” she murmured. She could smell his aftershave if she leaned in, and he smelled so spicy and clean that it was driving her crazy.

  He studied her face. “Is this your way of telling me that you want to have sex, Brenna?”

  Was the man totally oblivious or just messing with her? “We don’t have to have sex sex,” she told him. “We could just get a little oral in before the day starts.”

  He grabbed her hand and dragged her to the back of the lodge, not that he needed to do much dragging. She was sprinting with him, incredibly turned on.

  They ran back to Grant’s cabin and were tearing each other’s clothes off before the door was shut. Grant’s mouth covered hers even as his hands snagged her shirt and began to drag it over her head. That was fine with Brenna, since she was tugging at his belt.

  Then his hand was on her breast, and she moaned against his mouth. “Condom, Grant. Get a condom.”

  He groaned and squeezed her breast, then tore himself away from her, racing across the cabin to his bathroom.

  She watched him go for a moment, then clawed at her clothing. It needed to come off, stat. Her shirt went over her head and to the ground, and her pants quickly followed. By the time Grant returned, his slacks flapping loosely at his hips, she was naked and practically jumping with need.

  Grant returned to her side and pulled her against him. “Your bouncing is making me crazy. I hope you’re in the mood for hard and fast.”

  Oh God, when was she not? She nodded.

  “Good.” He dragged them both to the floor, Brenna under him. His hands slid to her hips, adjusting her even as she parted her legs for him. He groaned at her movements, his face contorting as if barely holding his control. Grabbing the condom packet between his teeth, he quickly ripped it open even as Brenna ran her hands all over him, raking her nails on his skin.

  Her gaze went to his hands as he rolled the condom onto his thick length. Anticipation made her bite her lip, and she gave a small sigh as he finished and poised himself at her entrance.

  Then he paused, and his hand went to his mouth. He licked his fingers with a long, slow drag of his tongue that gave her shivers to watch. “Need to make you wet, Brenna. Want this to be good for you, too.” His hand slid between them and moved to her sex.

  His eyes widened, and he groaned. “God, you’re so wet already.”

  “Totally,” she agreed, shifting her hips so she rubbed up against his fingers. “But feel free to touch me as you like.”

  Grant gave a small groan and pushed two fingers inside her, sliding deep. Then he scissored them, which made her arch with pleasure. “How do you get so turned on so fast?”

  “All that foil,” she breathed, closing her eyes and savoring the sensation. “I kept thinking of your reaction as I did it. I guess that turned me on.”

  The fingers slid away and he shifted. She felt the head of his cock probe her and held her breath, waiting for that delicious moment.

  “So the thought of aggravating me turns you on?”

  Maybe it did. She gave a small shrug. “Are we going to talk all day or are we going to have sex? I—”

  Her words broke as he plunged forward, shoving into her. She felt that familiar, delicious stretch as her body adjusted to him, and a small moan escaped her.

  “You feel so good,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss her throat. Then he pumped slowly into her again and began a languid rhythm, moving in and out of her.

  He felt incredible, too, the sensations moving through her body in a pleasant ripple. Her mouth curved into a dreamy smile. “Whatever happened to hard and fast? Not that this is bad, mind you. It’s really the opposite of bad.”

  “Mmm. Disappointed? I do hate to disappoint.” Grant thrust again, this time hard enough to make her breasts bounce.

  She gasped in response, holding on to him. “Never disappointing.”

  “Still, I did make a promise,” he told her, strain in his voice, and rocked hard again, causing the pleasantness of his thrusts to slide up a notch, exciting her.

  “You did,” she told him, breathing a little harder with anticipation. She lifted her legs and wrapped them around his hips, locking them against him.

  His thrusts began to pick up speed and strength, until she was gasping with each hard slam into her, her nails digging into his back. She lifted her hips to match him, aroused by the power he was driving into her. She knew Grant was strong, but he’d never used it against her . . . until she’d asked for more. And oh, he was giving her more. She moaned and writhed against him with each thrust, loving the power he was unleashing on her. She’d be walking bowlegged when they were done, but she’d be the happiest bowlegged woman ever.

  Desire continued to build as he rocked into her, their bodies shoving across the rug with the power of each drive into her body. Grant grunted with every thrust, close to losing control. “Almost there,” she told him with a whimper. “So close . . .”

  “Need a little more to drive you over?” Grant asked her, grit in his voice. She felt him shift again, and then his fingers w
ere down at her pussy. “I might know just the thing.”

  And then he began to play with her clit, rubbing her piercing against it.

  Her entire body stiffened and an orgasm blasted through her, making her emit a small choking sound. Words escaped her as pleasure poured through her, rocking her even as Grant thrust again with wild, frenzied motions. Then he groaned her name and stiffened against her, one last hard push pounding through her before he collapsed on top of her.

  They both remained where they’d fallen against each other, saying nothing and struggling to regain their breath. Brenna ran a light hand over his shoulders, feeling the dampness there. He’d worked up a sweat fucking her brains out. Good man, she thought with a chuckle.

  He lifted his head and looked down at her through smudged, slightly askew glasses. “What’s making you laugh?”

  “Just thinking that you won’t need to work out today, since we just burnt quite a few calories.” She traced a finger along his muscles.

  He grinned down at her. “I blame you. You knew how worked up I’d get with all that foil. Where on earth did you find so much?”

  She shrugged idly. “I had Rome drive me into town.”

  Grant stiffened against her, all easiness escaping him. “Rome? The new guy? You trusted him to go into town with you?”

  “Why wouldn’t I?” She patted his chest consolingly. “I mostly wanted to get a ride on that cool-looking motorcycle of his.”

  This time, Grant lifted off her and stared down at her in shock. “You rode on the back of his bike?”

  “Uh, yeah?”

  Anger pinched his handsome features. “Did you wear a helmet?”

  Weird. “Who are you, my mother?”

  “Damn it, Brenna! Those things are incredibly unsafe. Not only do you go off gallivanting with a stranger, you do it on the back of a motorcycle and don’t even wear a helmet? What the hell are you thinking?”

  She stared up at him in surprise as he lifted off her and stormed out of the room, heading to the bathroom. It would have been a funny sight—him with his pants around his knees—if she wasn’t so mystified by his reaction. What the heck was that all about?

  He was actually pissed off . . . about safety?

  She remained where she was, naked and on the floor, watching for him to return. He did a few minutes later, his clothes straightened, a furious look on his face. He glanced at her, scowled, and went to a nearby closet and pulled out his gym bag.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I need to go work out.”

  “We just built up a sweat. You can’t tell me you want to work out again?” Hadn’t the man heard of cuddling or something after sex?

  “You should probably go back to work,” he told her coldly.

  “O-kaaaay.” Sometimes Grant confused the hell out of her.

  • • •

  Brenna watched Grant curiously as he typed into his computer, seemingly all business. Ever since their fight—well, she didn’t know if it was really a fight since only one of them had been mad and it wasn’t her—he’d been ignoring her. That meant no possessiveness, no demands to have her move in, no nothing.

  It was refreshing, but it was also a bit mystifying. Troubling, if she was honest with herself. Nah, she settled back on mystifying. Grant wasn’t acting like Grant. He’d been perfectly happy to have sex but the moment he’d found out she’d ridden into town with Rome, he’d freaked out. Jealousy, she wondered? How could he be jealous of Rome, when she was sleeping with Grant?

  “Are your parents coming over today?” she asked, because she couldn’t stand the silence any longer.

  It took a few minutes for him to look up from his computer screen, his expression intense. Then he focused on her through his glasses and shook his head. “They’re visiting friends in Houston.”

  “Oh. I suppose that means we don’t have to play pretend today,” she said brightly.

  “Nope.”

  Her brows furrowed together. No response to that, either? It was almost like things were back to normal between them. And for some reason, it was sitting oddly on her. “Your sister went with them?”

  He glanced over at her again. “No. She said that she’d just stay in her hotel room.”

  “That’s no fun. Someone should take her out on the town.”

  “You volunteering?”

  “I am,” Brenna said with determination. “I should take her to meet Beth Ann and Miranda. I need to get my bangs retouched anyhow.” When he said nothing to that, she sighed and picked up her office phone, then cradled it against her shoulder while she looked up the phone number to the Peppermint House.

  Emily Allard-Smith answered it on the first ring. “Peppermint House.”

  “Hey, Emily, it’s Brenna from the survival school. Is Elise Markham there?”

  “I believe she is,” Emily said, a softly rolling drawl in her sweet voice. “I made some cookies earlier and she came down and had a few. Hang on and I’ll ring her.”

  Brenna’s stomach growled at the thought of Emily’s cookies. The entire town considered Emily the best baker in the county, and people tended to show up at her house just to see what she’d baked that day, including the entirety of the local sheriff’s department.

  “Hello?” Elise’s voice was soft and breathy as she answered.

  “Hey, Elise. It’s Brenna. I was wondering what you were up to.”

  “Hi, Brenna.” Was it just her imagination, or did Elise sound a little disappointed? “I’m just . . . hanging out today, I think. I don’t have any plans.”

  “Want to meet me and a few girlfriends for lunch? I can pick you up.”

  “Oh, actually, that would be good.” Enthusiasm crept into Elise’s voice. “When we got the tour of the ranch from Colt, the sun was setting and so I wasn’t able to get a good feel for the lighting. The weather’s perfect today, though, so I wouldn’t mind circling back to a few spots if you don’t mind.”

  “I don’t mind at all,” Brenna told her. “I’ll make sure one of the ATVs is prepped and ready to go.”

  That got Grant’s attention. She watched his head jerk up from the computer screen, and he stared at her.

  “Perfect,” Elise said, brimming with enthusiasm.

  “I’ll pick you up in a half hour, then?”

  “I’ll be here.”

  Brenna hung up the phone and was surprised to see Grant scowling at her, his expression black. “What?”

  “Why do you need to prep an ATV?”

  “Oh.” She waved a hand idly. “Elise wants to look at the lighting at a few spots for her photo shoot. I told her I’d drive her around.”

  “No.”

  “What do you mean, no?”

  “I mean no. Those ATVs are dangerous.”

  Uh, okay. “Well, they’re not cuddle-mobiles but I’m licensed to drive one, and we’ll wear helmets.”

  “Elise is fragile.” He shook his head. “I forbid it. You shouldn’t drive them, either. Something might happen to you. There are hundreds of accidents on those things every year. Even a helmet isn’t enough to save you if it flips over and pins you underneath.”

  Where was this safety lesson coming from? She’d ridden the ATVs dozens of times in the past few months and Grant had never had a problem with it. As far as Elise being fragile—the girl was tall and healthy-looking from what she could tell. Weirded out, Brenna stared at him a moment longer. “Okay,” she said after a long moment. “We won’t.” It was a total lie, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

  He watched her for a few, then nodded. “Good. Thank you.”

  She picked up her car keys and slipped out of the front door of the main lodge, a little troubled by Grant’s over-protectiveness. What did he mean that Elise was fragile? She seemed perfectly fine to Brenna. Strange. Maybe this was just more of
Grant’s controlling. She rolled her eyes at the thought as she slid into the front seat of her car.

  Weird situation, all around.

  • • •

  Brenna honked her horn outside of the Peppermint House, and Elise bounded down the steps a few moments later, her long, smooth hair fluttering in the breeze like honey-colored silk. She gave Brenna a shy smile and got into the passenger side of her car, a large Ziploc bag of cookies in hand. She passed it to Brenna. “Hi. Emily says hi and sends these along.”

  “Are these lemon drops? Sweet. I’ll tear into these later.” Brenna grinned. “You ready to go?”

  “Ready. Where are we going?”

  Brenna gave her an evil grin. “I’m going to introduce you to my partners in crime, and then we’re going to sneak away into the woods.”

  Elise gave her a puzzled look. “We are?”

  “Your brother’s being weird.”

  “Ah,” she said, understanding dawning on her face.

  Brenna glanced over at Elise as she drove. “What do you mean, ‘ah’? What does that mean?”

  Elise was quiet for a moment. Then, she said, “Nothing I can talk about, really. I’m sorry. If Grant hasn’t said it to you, I probably shouldn’t.”

  Brenna frowned to herself. Grant had secrets? Secrets that he wasn’t telling her? That didn’t seem fair. She turned down Main Street and parked in front of Beth Ann’s adorable salon. Miranda’s beat-up truck was already there. Perfect. She hadn’t even had to call them.

  The cowbell clanged on the door of Beth Ann’s small salon. A blond head poked around the corner of the decorative wall, and Beth Ann’s lovely face lit up in a smile. “Brenna! Hi! Come on in. Miranda was just getting her nails done and showing me some bridesmaids’ gowns.” She glanced at Elise and gave her a curious look, then looked back to Brenna.

  Huh. Beth Ann had grown up in this town and she didn’t recognize Grant’s sister? “This is Elise Markham.”

  Recognition dawned on Beth Ann’s face. “Of course! The missing Markham!” She gestured for the two of them to come sit down in the salon area. “I didn’t recognize you.”