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Her ex, Nigel, had occasionally seemed disappointed about how small her tits were, but Grant never failed to feed her ego with his nonverbals. Apparently she was as much his type as he was hers. Not like Grant was really a type.
She’d never, in all of her life, imagined meeting a man with long, pretty red hair and a red beard to match. Add the tattoos, muscles, and the big, pierced dick, and he was more like something she would have fantasized about as a teenager reading manga, rather than a real man. He was like a superhero from a comic book who turned into a villain behind closed doors.
Ugh. Memories of that piercing had stolen her sleep several times after they’d been together. She hadn’t gotten to play with his cock nearly enough, but she fantasized about it a lot. Was it is even as perfect as she remembered? It wasn’t like she’d gotten a good look in the alley after the bachelor party, or in the parking lot at the wedding.
When she was completely naked, she peeked up at him to find he was looking at her like a starving man watching the Cooking Channel.
Excellent. At least she wasn’t the only one suffering.
She pulled on the boy shorts and rooted through her bag for a pair of flip-flops and a towel, trying to ignore the way her pierced nipples felt as they tightened in response to his attention. A shiver stole down her spine. She knew she was playing with fire and would eventually get burned, but not knowing when was a lot of fun.
Tension sang in the air. The awareness that he wasn’t far from snapping and taking what he wanted—what she wanted him to take—was making her arch her back and take her time, daring him to lose control.
Most men played hard
to get rid of instead of hard to get, and Grant being the exception to the rule was like some sort of cruel joke. She’d always thought he was sexy, but she couldn’t stop thinking about him as more than just a hot friend to admire from afar. This was exactly why she’d avoided doing him for so long. Falling for a friend was messy—falling for your best friend was a disaster.
All she wanted from this week was fun, the beach, a campfire, hanging out with her bestie, some gritty, unchoreographed torture, and some nasty, sweaty sex. But no—absolutely no—emotional attachment that went past friendship. Hard limit. Was that so much to ask?
Grant sighed quietly and rubbed his hand over his mouth, looking away from her to study a wall sconce.
“What’s wrong?” she asked innocently. “Getting cold feet about the whole lodge thing?”
He chuckled once, humorlessly, as if he was in pain. “No.”
“Then what’s the matter?” She might have added a slight purr to her question, but fair was fair. He didn’t have to walk around looking so edible. It was his own damned fault.
God, she wanted him.
“You’re not going to get what you want by teasing me.”
“Oh? I’m pretty sure you’re wrong.” She slid a hand up the skintight black Lycra over her hip, skimming her palm upward to her breast and cupping it. Grant’s bright green eyes narrowed, burning with lust, making him look like some sort of deadly predator. She slid her thumb over her nipple, letting her short nail catch her piercing. She gasped at the jolt of pleasure, watching him watch her, hoping he’d fucking lose it.
“Someone’s looking for trouble.”
“Bring it,” she dared.
Oh, the war of emotions she could see behind his hot green eyes. He didn’t want to play with her—she knew that—but he also very much did. So many Dominants had a hard time resisting a brat. It was like a bull being taunted with a red cape.
A muscle was twitching at the corner of one of Grant’s eyes, and the sight made Dex positively gleeful.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. All talk, no action.”
Was he mentally fucking her or spanking her right then?
His jaw flexed. If he wasn’t careful he was going to wear his teeth down prematurely.
“You need—” His gaze was so fucking stern, and he was breathing fast.
She turned her back to him and leaned over the bed under the guise of dragging her jeans closer to fold them. The muttered curse that came from behind her was none too subtle.
“What is it you think I need? Or are you thinking more of what you want to give me?” she asked sweetly, glancing at him over her shoulder. As she’d expected, his attention was glued to her ass.
“You have no idea what I want to give you,” he growled, making the hair on her neck stand on end.
“Don’t I? I’m a smart girl. I’m sure I can come up with a few theories.”
He strode from the room as if it was on fire and she made sure he could hear her laugh as his booted footsteps thumped down the corridor.
