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***
Grant doesn’t seem to mind the rather unappealing lasagna that I picked up frozen at the store. Nor the dog hair that somehow made it into his glass of wine.
All his attention is fixed upon me, sending heat rushing through my body. I greeted him with a fast kiss when he arrived and now that we’re done with the uninspired meal, I want nothing more than to lead him upstairs to my bedroom.
Instead, I invite him into the living room to watch a movie and now here we sit next to each other staring forward at some lame action movie and I want to bang my head into the nearest wall.
“Grant, do you want to...”
“Brittany, thank you…”
We talk at the same time, our words clashing over each other’s even while our gazes lock. His brown eyes are so full of warmth, like gooey caramel, and it’s all I can do not to go into sugar shock. My body sways closer, my hands reaching for his.
Firm fingers tangle with mine, pressing my hands against the solid strength of his chest. “I missed you,” he says softly.
“Me too.” I curl my fingers around his, feeling the heat of his skin and the steady rising and falling of his chest with each breath. “I’m sorry about leaving you this morning. Everything happened so fast last night, and I had early clients today.”
“It’s okay, I understand.”
“You do?” I jerk back slightly, only the pressure of his hands keeping my mine firmly planted on his chest.
“It’s your business, and you had clients.” He nods, his eyes firmly fixed on my face. “If we had communicated better, I would have known all that.”
Heat burns at my face. I kinda jumped the guy the moment I was at his place yesterday.
After our kisses at the dog park, my senses were on high alert the entire drive back to my place to drop Barnabas and Quentin off and I was squirming in my seat on the way to his place, anticipation and desire riding me hard. When he opened the door and I saw his wet skin and that clingy towel outlining his dick, instinct took over.
Boy did it.
My pussy clenches, remembering the pleasure Grant gave me last night. The rasp of his tongue over my clit, something forever branded into my mind.
Blowing out a breath, I force a light laugh out. “Okay, talk first, sex later. Sounds like a plan.”
Grant’s fingers tighten on mine. His tongue swipes over his full lower lip, his dark eyes alighting with a hunger that echoes mine. My eyes drop to the crotch of his pants and the swollen length straining the faded material.
“Or sex first, then long, meaningful conversations,” Grants says, his head lowering toward mine.
Without hesitation, I lean up, brushing my lips against his. “I like that plan.”
I feel his smile against my mouth and then I feel a lot more than just his lips.
