The Perfect Man

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  “I wish I could say that was the reason I didn’t stop to look before I drove over the bridge. The fact is, I was fantasizing about you.”

  He blinked. “Me?”

  “You, naked.”

  He seemed torn between horror and delight. “I’m not sure how I’m supposed to take that. Are you saying it’s all my fault?”

  “No! It’s my fault for reliving that kiss when I should have been paying attention to the road. But if you weren’t so damned sexy, then none of this would have happened!”

  He was quiet for a moment. “Do you wish it hadn’t?”

  “No.” She said it in a small voice, but honesty made her admit the truth, however damning.

  “That’s a relief. For a minute there I thought you were going to say that sex with me wasn’t worth nearly dying and losing both your truck and everything in it.” His mouth twitched, as if he wanted to smile but didn’t dare.

  But she saw the glint of amusement in his eyes, and the tightness in her chest loosened. “I was determined not to have sex with you, you know.”

  “I do know. And I was just as determined that you would, but I figured it would be a long, arduous campaign.”

  “Instead it was a short, arduous campaign.” Her smile trembled a little. “I’ll bet you’ve never had to go through so much trouble to get a woman into bed before.”

  “Can’t say that I have.” He squeezed her shoulder as he held her gaze. “But you are so worth it.”

  “So are you.”

  “Apparently I am, considering I make up for those missing supplies, a totaled truck, and potential loss of life.”

  Her smile became a grin. “Don’t let it go to your head, Grayson.”

  “Too late. The more I think about your confession, the more I like it. An intelligent, beautiful woman drove blindly onto a dangerous bridge because she was mesmerized by the thought of seeing me naked. That’s an epic tribute to my package.”

  “Good grief. I’ve created a monster.”

  “I mean, think about this for a minute. You lost all sense of self-preservation under the influence of that vision. I need to use my sexual powers more responsibly from now on. For example, don’t ever have sex with me and then try to operate heavy machinery. You might—”

  “Fletch!” Laughing, she grabbed his face in both hands. “Get a grip. You’re good, but you’re not that good.”

  His eyebrows rose. “Is that a challenge?”

  Too late, she saw the warning light in his eyes. “No, I just—”

  “I think it was a challenge, and this ol’ boy never backs down from a challenge.” With lightning speed he scooped her off the stool. The blanket fell away as he hoisted her over his shoulder, her bare bottom in the air.

  “Put me down!”

  “Not a chance.” He carried her, squealing and pounding on his back, toward the bedroom.

  “Stop this! I need a shower first!”

  “You’ll need a shower afterward, too, so let’s not worry about that now, shall we?”

  With no more ceremony than he’d shown her this morning, he tossed her down on the bed, but this time he followed her there, pinning her to the mattress with his large body. “Not that good, huh? We’ll just see about that.”

  Six

  Fletch wasn’t about to let Astrid blame herself for what had happened on the bridge, especially after he understood why it had happened. If anyone should take the blame, he should, for kissing her in the first place. But because they were alive and frolicking on his bed, he didn’t plan to wallow in guilt over that, either.

  She wanted him, apparently far more than he’d ever imagined, and that was the best news he’d heard yet. She no longer mentioned the stumbling block that he was a client. As he kissed his way down her warm, silky body, he was fairly sure she didn’t think of him as a client right now.

  When he reached her moist triangle of blonde curls and used his tongue to find that all-important spot where her orgasms lived, he doubted she was thinking of anything. That’s exactly what he wanted, to distract her from the scary events of the morning and remind her of the pleasure they could enjoy in this bed. Judging from her moans and the pressure of her fingertips against his scalp, he was succeeding.

  He gave her one quick climax to lay the groundwork, and then he nestled more securely into the cradle of her thighs and slowed the action. He loved taking his time on the second go-round, loved building the pressure and backing off, increasing her excitement and easing back. The erotic taste and scent of her hardened his cock, but his cock would have to wait. This was all about giving her the orgasm that she’d begged for, one that had been promised for so long that when it arrived, it would rock her world.

  When she began to thrash around, he knew he was achieving his goal. Her moans grew louder, and she even—this made him smile—started to swear. She saved the begging for last, with a few threats thrown in.

  He hoped she’d make good on them, because he enjoyed this game, too. He wouldn’t mind having her full mouth give him some payback for what he was doing to her now. In fact, he was counting on her need for revenge, because in this case, revenge would be sweet for both of them.

  But he was struggling with his own needs, too, and finally he burrowed in and gave her what she’d pleaded for, because he couldn’t wait much longer for his own climax. She yelled as she tumbled over the edge, and then yelled some more as the spasms rolled through her. Breathing hard, she collapsed on the bed.

  While she lay gasping, eyes closed, he worked fast to unzip and grab a little raincoat out of the drawer. He didn’t bother taking off his clothes. This one would be fast. Moving over her, he knelt between her thighs.

  “My turn,” he murmured. His mouth, flavored with her passion, settled over hers as he slid home. He’d thought she was wrung out, but she lifted her hips and squeezed his cock in welcome. Then she wrapped her legs around his, locking him in. Her arms came around his back, and he felt the imprint of her fingers.

  Okay, then. Maybe she could come again. He revised his plan of quick and easy. Her tongue met his as he began stroking deliberately, shifting his angle, absorbing her response. Oh, yeah. She was right there with him.

  Heat shot through his veins as he realized that he’d found a woman who could take what he had to offer and be ready for more, a woman with a sexual appetite for him that matched the one he had for her. He’d despaired of finding such a woman, yet here she was, her body moving in perfect rhythm with his. His climax neared, but so did hers. He could feel her tightening.

  Lifting his mouth from hers, he looked into her flushed face. “Open your eyes,” he murmured.

  Her lashes fluttered, and she looked up at him. Her eyes were so dark they were almost navy. She gulped for air. “You are . . . that good.”

  “So are you, lady. So are you.” Holding her gaze, he increased the tempo, and in seconds, they came, their triumphant cries mingling as they shuddered in each other’s arms.

  Slowly the rocking stopped, the trembling stopped, and he could breathe almost normally. But he couldn’t stop looking at her, and she seemed equally focused on him. She opened her mouth as if to speak, and then . . . didn’t.

  He took the risk. “Okay, I’ll say it. It’s never been this good.”

  Gratitude shone in her eyes. “You’re braver than I am. It’s never been like this for me, either, but . . . I think you’re more experienced than I am, and I wondered if maybe you always—”

  “No.” He shook his head. “Not like this. I’ve never felt so completely in tune with a woman as I do with you. That’s why I wanted to see your eyes. I needed to make sure you knew it was me making love to you and not some anonymous guy.”

  She stroked his back. “You could never be anonymous. You’re an amazing lover, Fletch.”

  “Careful. You know how easily I get an inflated opinion of
myself.”

  “Justifiably so, too. You just changed my whole outlook by hauling me into this bed and having your way with me. I was on the blame train headed nowhere, and you derailed me. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, but I had my own selfish motives. It’s tough to have good sex with an unhappy lady.”

  She smiled. “Well, you’ve made me a very happy lady. You should probably patent that thing you do with your tongue.”

  “Thanks.”

  “How does that work, exactly?”

  He chuckled. “Trade secret. But I’m glad you like it. And that you’re happy. Ready for that shower now?”

  “If you’ll wash my back.”

  “I’ll wash your back, your front, and everything in between.” He waggled his eyebrows. “All the better to touch you, my dear.”

  “Something tells me this is going to be a very long shower.”

  * * *

  They ran out of hot water before they ran out of fun things to do in Fletch’s shower stall. Astrid loved the sexy play, which wasn’t so much about achieving orgasms as it was about thoroughly exploring each other and splashing water everywhere. They cavorted in the spray like a couple of kids. She’d never seen this uninhibited side of him, and he brought out the silliness in her, too.

  When the water turned cold, they dried each other off and mopped up the mess they’d made. She didn’t realize until they were almost done that this morning’s horror had faded during their long shower. Earlier today, water had been her enemy. How healing it was to reacquaint herself with water as a friend. She didn’t know if Fletch had meant to do that, but she wouldn’t be surprised. He had depths she’d suspected but never seen so clearly before in the months she’d known him.

  She handed him a pile of soggy towels. “We should go see Janis.”

  “We should. That’s a great idea. Herman sent me a text saying she was doing fine, but I’d like to check it out myself. I’ll get your clothes.”

  And her clothes would be dry by now. Even though Fletch could be spontaneous, he also kept track of things, like knowing her clothes needed to go into the dryer before they took their shower. That kind of attention to detail impressed her and fostered her trust.

  He returned quickly with her jeans, shirt, and underwear. He’d dried the bra, but she wasn’t about to complain. A guy wouldn’t think of air-drying anything, and they didn’t have time for that, anyway. She was grateful for the warm, clean clothes.

  “I won’t be able to take vital signs for Janis or Buddy,” she said as she pulled up her jeans and fastened the snap. “But I should be able to confirm whether all is well, even without my instruments.”

  “I look forward to hearing your professional opinion.”

  The huskiness in his voice made her glance up. He gazed at her bare breasts with a soft glow of desire in his eyes. On cue, her nipples tightened.

  “Sorry.” He looked away. “You’re just so beautiful. I’m sort of obsessed with your naked body. Hope you don’t mind.”

  “I don’t mind, but under the circumstances, you probably shouldn’t try to operate heavy machinery.”

  He laughed so hard he had to wipe tears from his eyes. “You are a kick, Astrid Lindberg.”

  “I am?” She’d never thought of herself that way. Intelligent, yes. Reasonably good-looking. Efficient. But no one had ever accused her of being a kick. She liked it.

  “You absolutely are. I never know what’s going to come out of that luscious mouth of yours.” He snapped his shirt. “That reminds me that during certain events this afternoon, you made some dire threats against my person.”

  Arching her back, she fastened her bra. “I did, didn’t I?” She tried to be nonchalant about it, but remembering the circumstances under which she’d made those threats caused her to throb with longing. Moisture gathered between her thighs, and her nipples ached.

  “So what I want to know is . . .” He paused to tuck his shirt into his jeans. “Were those idle threats or serious ones?”

  “Very serious ones.”

  “Thank God, because if you want to know my overriding fantasy, it involves your mouth and my cock.”

  She sucked in a breath. “You’re a terrible tease, Fletcher Grayson.”

  “So they say.” He didn’t seem worried about it.

  “We’re headed down to the barn to check on your mare and her foal. You know damned well I’ll think about that the whole time we’re down there.”

  “You will? That’s awesome. And bonus, you won’t be called upon to operate any heavy machinery.”

  She grabbed her shirt and stuck her tongue out at him.

  “Wow, a preview. Now I’m really excited.”

  She finished buttoning her shirt and started toward the door. “Not me. I’m cool as a cucumber.”

  “Liar. Even though you’re wearing a bra and a shirt, I can see your nipples poking out.”

  She glanced back at him. “And I can see the bulge in your pants, hotshot. Shall we go, or can you walk?”

  “I can walk just fine.” He winced, but he kept his stride steady as they left the house and stepped outside. The afternoon had been cooled a little by the rain, but some late sunshine had made the air muggy.

  Astrid glanced around as they walked the short distance from the house to the barn, which was three times the size. Fletch had put the bulk of his money there, which made sense because he was only one guy who didn’t need much space, and his future success was tied to the horses he housed in the barn. “Where is everybody?” she asked. “The place seems deserted.”

  “We feed early on Sunday so everyone can take off and have time for personal business.”

  “That’s a nice thing to do for your hands, but I’ll bet you stick around and keep an eye on things.”

  “It’s my ranch.” He said it with pride.

  “Guess I’ll need to come out and visit you on Sundays, then.” That would suit her better, anyway. Better for her to hang out with him than the other way around.

  His glance was quick and intense. “You’ll do that?”

  “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

  His smile took her breath away. “Good.”

  She felt a pang of guilt. No telling where this was going, but she could tell they were both becoming invested very quickly. Maybe eventually she’d be able to tell him about her background, and he’d be okay with it. Maybe her parents would understand that he was not a fortune hunter, and they wouldn’t subject him to the third degree.

  And maybe none of that would work out, and the relationship would crash and burn. But she couldn’t give him up. Not yet. They might tire of each other, and that would solve everything. Fat chance. She was as likely to tire of Fletch Grayson as Janis was likely to win the Kentucky Derby.

  He fished a key out of his pocket and opened the padlock securing the double doors into the barn. He left the doors open so the late-afternoon sun could light their way as they walked back to the foaling stall. Astrid thought of all that had happened since she’d left this barn mere hours before. She couldn’t regret any of it.

  Mother and son lay in a bed of clean straw. Janis was awake and alert, and Buddy was curled against her side, fast asleep. His coat looked good, and his breathing was even.

  “Hey, girl.” Fletch spoke to Janis. “Nice kid you got there.”

  Janis nickered, but she didn’t get up, as if she didn’t want to disturb her sleeping baby.

  “I have the feeling she’s ready to settle in for the night,” Astrid murmured.

  “Me, too.” Fletch slipped his arm around Astrid’s waist and drew her close to his side. “Messing with them now seems wrong. Janis has it under control.”

  “She looks calm. No signs of distress.”

  “That’s what Herman said, but I like seeing for myself. Look at those identical white socks on her
and Buddy. I’m stoked about that.”

  “They’ll be a photogenic pair.” Wrapping her arm around his waist, Astrid snuggled against him and enjoyed the shared moment of contemplating mother and foal. “I’m surprised you haven’t piped rock tunes into the barn.”

  “Don’t laugh. I thought about it. But the hands are into country. I could get away with some crossover tunes, but they’d rather have Johnny Cash than Fats Domino. I decided to scrap the concept for now.”

  “Except you’re the boss. You could pipe in whatever you wanted.”

  “Well, yeah, but what’s the fun in that? It’s tough to get good work out of unhappy ranch hands.”

  “So your goal is to make everyone happy so they’ll perform better?”

  “Yep. Not very complicated. But you have to remember that my parents were both teachers. I grew up on behavior-modification techniques.”

  “It’s a smart approach, Fletch. I predict great things for the Rocking G.”

  He glanced down at her. “That means a lot to me.”

  She met his gaze, and the atmosphere crackled. Maybe one day they wouldn’t look at each other and feel this sexual tension, but that day hadn’t arrived. His lack of inhibition had made her bolder, and she licked her lips. “Hey, there, gorgeous. Any dark corners in this barn?”

  His throat moved in a slow swallow. “Could be.”

  “Care to direct me to one?”

  “I’d be a fool not to.” With his arm securely around her waist, he pulled her away from the foaling stall and guided her down the aisle to an empty stall shrouded in darkness. “Will this do?”

  “Looks perfect.” She reached out and unlatched the stall door. “Come with me, cowboy.”

  Moments later, she knelt in the fresh straw and drew his zipper down. “About those threats . . .”

  His breathing rasped in the silence broken only by the restless movement of horses. “Lady, you’re full of surprises.”

  “Gonna stop me?”

  “Not on your life.”

  Seven