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He grinned. “Only if you think you can handle my thermometer?”
Mouth dropping, B.J. could only gape at him for a moment. Then she sputtered, “Oh, my God. Did I hear wrong, or did the golden boy of Tommy Creek, Texas just make a dirty, suggestive comment?”
“Golden boy?” he echoed in surprise. Shaking his head, bemused, he leaned over her, causing her to lie back on the bed. “Let me convince you just how wrong you are.”
Giving her a hard, demanding kiss, he set his hands on her knees and pushed them apart. B.J. was ready. She wanted to feel his thick probing head at her entrance more than she wanted her next breath. And when she did, she breathed out a sigh of relief. Finally. He pushed his way deeper into her.
But suddenly, he stopped and pulled out. B.J. tightened her thighs around him in protest, but he merely shook his head. “Not yet,” he told her. “I refuse to rush this.”
“Rushing sounds fine to me,” she argued.
But he had other ideas.
Murmuring coaxing words she couldn’t even understand, he slipped his fingers down to toy with her, and his mouth evoked pleasure from her skin. He kissed her throat and breasts, working his way across her stomach. B.J. tensed, expecting and craving the feel of his tongue between her legs. But he didn’t go any further than her belly button.
After dipping a finger inside to test her moisture, Grady straightened above her, bracing his arms on the mattress at either side of her head. He gazed into her eyes, going frustratingly slow as he started to enter her again as if purposely tormenting her.
Once he was seated fully, he stroked out once and pushed immediately back in to the hilt. B.J. cursed and dug her nails into his shoulders.
“You like?” he asked.
Biting her lip to swallow down a cry of desire, she rasped, “You know I do.”
He pulled all the way out. “Then marry me,” he whispered against her throat. “And you can have it whenever you want.”
B.J. jerked in surprise. She couldn’t believe he could think of anything but getting back inside her. It was insulting to realize his mind was still functioning enough to think about his ridiculous plans for marriage. Plus the M-word brought up a picture of his father and all the blackmail and wagering he’d begun mere hours ago. For some reason, that nastiness felt wrong popping into her mind while she was with Grady, poor Grady who was innocent and blissfully unaware of what kind of deals and schemes his family was trying to make on his behalf. No way was she going to let any of that touch him.
“No,” she heard herself growl.
Rolling onto her stomach away from him, she crawled across the mattress and grabbed her bra. He came up behind her and caught her wrist, shaking it once until the piece of cloth dropped from her grasp. Then, pinning her hand to the bed, he attempted to push his way inside her from behind.
“Marry me,” he said again.
“Damn it, Grady,” she sobbed and tried to crawl off the bed. “Don’t do this right now. I said no strings.”
“But what if I got depressed in the middle of the night,” he asked, his voice light and teasing, though it carried a hard underlying edge. “I’d need your sympathetic touch.”
“Will you shut up?” she snapped, trying to close her legs and buck him off. “I didn’t give you a pity fu—”
He cut her words off with his mouth on the back of her neck and his hand on her breast. She tried to pull away, but he caught her around the waist and entered her completely.
She gasped and arched her back, forgetting everything but him—moving with him in sync to his rhythm and loving him with everything she had.
“Later, then,” he growled and grabbed her pelvis, pumping furiously.
B.J. squirmed and pushed back against him, wanting it harder and faster. Needing more than he could reach from his position, she fumbled a moment and pressed her own fingers against herself, trapping the sensitive bud between her thumb and the base of his pumping penis. In moments, she let out a groan of release, and he followed almost immediately.
Once the last shudder racked her, she collapsed on her stomach and rested her face in the pillow. He settled his weight on top of her, spooning her into the mattress. She marveled at the feel of his warm flesh matted to hers.
Unable to keep her deepest, darkest secret inside a moment longer, she whispered, “I can’t believe you’d even suggest I’d ever sleep with you out of pity. I think I wanted to have sex with you since I was twelve and saw you making out with Amy on my living room couch.”
She closed her eyes and waited for the fallout and accusations. She’d wanted her babysitter’s boyfriend. She’d wanted a married man. She’d wanted Amy’s man. To her, that was grounds for a stoning.
But Grady merely set his hand on her shoulder and kissed her hair. He didn’t say anything, and she thanked God for that. She wouldn’t have been able to bear it if he had.
Tears seeped from her lashes because she knew she didn’t deserve his easy forgiveness. Amy had been like a big sister to her, sometimes even a stand-in mother, and B.J. had lusted after her property.
And now. . .now she was falling for that same woman’s man.
