by Monroe, Lucy
A desire that did not die after four years of suppression was not born of lust. He shied away from identifying what had given it birth. It was enough to know that this was something special.
Zoe could not believe that her body was once again responding to the sight of Grant’s arousal. The way he’d brought her to multiple orgasms with his mouth had totally exhausted her—or so she’d thought. Now she felt the stirrings of renewed need, as well as a deep longing to satisfy her lover every bit as thoroughly as he had satisfied her.
She didn’t doubt she could do it, even if she’d never had a lover before. She’d read books—and not just erotic romance either. She’d read sex manuals when she’d been trying to find a way to want a man besides her best friend. But now that problem was solved. It was Grant standing so sexily above her, so obviously ready to join his body with her own.
How could she help but satisfy him? She longed to give him every bit of pleasure her body was capable of providing.
She smiled in welcome as Grant lowered himself over her, pressing the head of his erection against the sensitized flesh of her femininity. Her legs widened of their own accord to make a place for him.
“I want you.”
“I’m glad, querida.” His voice sounded strained.
She arched her hips against him and the head of his shaft slipped inside. He groaned and pressed into her, but she was tight and he was big. Bigger than she’d expected. She bit her lip and did a little shimmy with her hips, which allowed him another inch of access.
She tried to relax, but she felt so stretched. Yet the sensation of his invading manhood felt so right that she vacillated between wanting all of him and fearing that she couldn’t take it. She could only say a prayer of thanks that she’d been riding horses since she was three. There was no fleshly barrier that had to be torn for him to gain entrance, no source of pain to mitigate the pleasure of their joining.
He rocked against her, pressing inexorably closer, and her swollen tissues gave all at once, allowing him to seat to the hilt. She moaned. The sensation of his hard shaft inside of her and the press of his pelvic bone against her splintered her thoughts and tormented her senses.
“Oh, Grant.”
“I know, Zoe. I know.”
She didn’t know if she could stand it if he moved, but she wanted it. Oh, man, she wanted it. “Grant.”
He seemed to read her mind, because he pulled back and rocked forward in a withdraw-and-plunge move that rasped every nerve-ending in her feminine core. Pushing her legs together and settling his outside, he forced his hardness against her clitoris with every thrust. She felt the excitement building again, even more shattering than when his mouth had been on her.
She tried to move under him, and succeeded in small pelvic thrusts that seemed to drive him wild. Grant’s movements became more forceful, until he was driving into her like a jackhammer. Her body tightened like a bow, pushing against his muscular length, forcing him to fight her for the embrace. Which he did, with amazing success, pushing her closer and closer to a mindless pleasure unlike anything she’d ever known.
“Zoe, baby, come! Come for me. Now!”
And she did, feeling him bucking with his own release as she felt all the wonder of the universe coalesce in her mind and body for one timeless moment.
Afterward, she lay under him, completely undone.
Zoe woke to the delicious sensation of Grant’s warmth surrounding her. She snuggled closer, enjoying the feeling of rightness being in his arms engendered. He was sleeping soundly. Poor man. She had worn him out. She smiled with satisfaction. She had never felt this intimate with anyone before.
The only thing that marred her perfect happiness this morning was the realization that she and Grant had started an affair last night, not a forever. A small voice that would not be silenced taunted her with the idea that a future together was not such an impossible scenario. She wasn’t supposed to want that. She’d meant this to be about sex.
But after what they had shared she could no longer deny that, far from being a clinical satiation of her sexual drive, last night had been the culmination of nearly a lifetime of loving. She was one hundred percent, head over heels in love with Grant. But she still wasn’t sure she could trust him with her heart. He’d explained The Night. He’d even explained why he’d asked Carlene out, and both explanations had made sense.
If Grant didn’t love her, if his desire for her was the physical thing she’d tried to convince herself hers had been, then it would make sense that he’d wanted to protect her from his “evil lust”, as he’d put it. He wouldn’t have wanted to hurt her by making love to her and eventually moving on, but she’d made it clear she was open to a physical relationship with him and, like he’d said, he hadn’t been able to help himself any longer.
She didn’t know what he felt about the future and, like an ostrich with her head buried in the sand, did not want to ask. What if she were right and he only wanted a friendly passion between the two of them? She’d rather deal with a broken heart down the road than now. If she waited to find out, she could enjoy the time they shared now, and maybe, just maybe, that time would bring Grant to a realization that he was as deeply in love with her as she was with him.
Their giving into the attraction between them had happened so abruptly that she still felt like she was in the aftermath of a tailwind. She definitely wasn’t prepared to force a “relationship discussion” with Grant.
She slid reluctantly from the bed. She would like nothing better than to stay in bed with him for the rest of the day, but they needed to get his house cleaned up before his parents arrived from Portland. She also wasn’t sure she had the savoir-faire to handle a naked-between-the-sheets morning after. She tiptoed to the closet and pulled out jeans, T-shirt and an oversized flannel shirt she had pilfered from Grant’s closet sometime last summer.
She took a quick shower, not wanting to use up all the hot water. Grant would have to shower, and they needed to get a move on.
She smiled when she thought of the Cortezes’ arrival. Having them around for Christmas would help make up for her own parents’ defection. She dried her hair and pulled it back in her typical French braid, leaving some wisps to frame her face. After making coffee, she padded back to the bedroom in bare feet, carrying a mug of the steaming brew for Grant.
He was sitting on the side of the bed when she walked in. He grabbed the sheet and yanked it across his lap. She smiled at his modesty, even though she was sure she would have done the same thing herself. “A little late for that, isn’t it?”
The smile he gave her in return looked a little forced. “Maybe.”
If he was already regretting giving in to his desire for her she was going to scream—and not with pleasure like she had last night.
“I’ll leave you alone to shower.” She set the coffee on the table next to the bed. “This will help you wake up.”
“Thanks.”
She couldn’t resist. She leaned forward to kiss him lightly on the lips before leaving the room. He averted his face and she ended up kissing the stubble on his chin instead. Zoe’s insides froze. Last night had been a mistake. She could see it in the wary way he watched her.
She straightened and moved away from him. “I left you plenty of hot water, but you might want to make your shower quick. The faster we get to your house, the sooner we’ll have everything cleaned up and ready for your parents.”
She turned around and started from the room, ignoring him when he called her name. No tears came. Nothing. Just frozen pain. The way she’d felt when her dad had told her he’d sold the ranch and her parents were moving to Arizona to retire. Ranchers did not retire. But men who had lost their only son and heir, who saw their daughter as a complete write-off, did.
Grant’s grip on her arms was the first inkling she had that he had followed her out of the bedroom. He spun her around to face him, every glorious naked inch of him. “What is going on?” Fury laced his words.
&
nbsp; She felt the pain building. “You tell me.”
“This is not a game, Zoe. Last night you went wild in my arms, and now you’re walking away from me like I’m a cow pie on your boot.”
“You promised.” She glared at him, fighting the urge to cry. “You don’t even remember, do you? You were just so hot, you said whatever you had to say so I wouldn’t stop.”
The dull red on his cheeks confirmed her suspicion like nothing else could. She struggled for release. “Let me go.”
“No. Explain what you mean by my promise.”
“You promised you would not regret what we did last night.”
“You think I regret it?” She searched his face, her conviction wavering. “Are you trying to tell me you don’t?”
“Hell, no.” His thumbs started a slow circling on her upper arms and she had to concentrate hard to remember what they were arguing about.
“But you turned your head when I tried to kiss you.”
He closed his eyes and she had the distinct impression he was counting to ten. “Why weren’t you in bed with me when I woke up this morning?”
She felt her face grow warm. “We need to get over to your house to get the place cleaned up before your parents arrive.”
“Actually, we don’t. I called an electrician and a cleaning crew out last night before I left to come here. But what has that got to do with you leaving the bed without waking me?”
“I thought if I took a shower first, we could get back to your place all that much faster.” That hadn’t been the only reason, and it must have shown on her face because he looked skeptical.
“And?”
She swallowed. “And I’ve never woken up naked with a man before. I didn’t know how it was done.”
“I’m not just any man, Zoe. I’m your best friend, and now I’m also your lover.”
She craned her neck to meet his blue-eyed gaze. It was better than staring at his totally tantalizing naked body. “It’s the lover part that I find a little disconcerting.”
He reached out and held her shoulders, his expression grim. “Are you regretting last night?”
“No.”
He leaned down and kissed her. “Good.”
“So we both don’t regret it?”
He kissed her again, this time with a little more passion. “Right.”
“So why didn’t you kiss me earlier?”
It was his turn to look chagrined. “I was mad when I woke up alone, and I thought you might be looking for a way to tell me last night was a mistake.”
She laughed, and felt warmth cascade through her. He really did not regret making love to her. “I was just trying to be conscientious about getting back to your place before your parents got there.”
“And shy.”
She grinned in acknowledgement of his astute observation. “And a little shy.”
He smiled and released her. “I’m going to take a shower. Why don’t you pack while I’m at it?”
“Why?” She let her gaze roam down his naked body and felt the air leave her lungs in one big whoosh. His entire body was taut and hard.
“We might as well take your stuff to the ranch this morning.” He talked as if standing around conversing naked, and with an obvious erection, was nothing out of the ordinary for him.
Heck, it probably wasn’t. “What do you mean?”
“There’s no point in you staying here, honey.”
She bit her lip. “I can’t move in with you, Grant.”
He smiled again, this time with a definite glint in his eye. “My parents will be there. That’s sufficient chaperonage in anybody’s books.”
“I don’t want to flaunt an affair in your parents’ faces.”
“Affair?” His eyes darkened dangerously and he moved toward her, resolve written in every feature of his face.
Evidently he had a problem with the word affair. Maybe the word sounded too cheap to him. “Relationship. Whatever. I don’t want your mom and dad thinking badly of me.”
He stopped, his bare body inches from her. He didn’t seem the least bit embarrassed by the fact his rather impressive male flesh brushed her stomach. “They’re not going to think badly of you.”
“They will if they find out we’re sleeping together, and they’ll want to know when the wedding is.”
They would also tell her parents, who would then do one of two things. Demand to know when the wedding was to take place as well, or express their disappointment in a daughter who would make love to a man without the benefit of marriage. Maybe even both.
She didn’t want to deal with either scenario. She also didn’t want Grant put under that kind of pressure. If he decided they had a future together, it would be because he couldn’t imagine his life without her—not because his parents and hers had guilted him into it.
“And we aren’t planning on a wedding, right?” His voice was laced with an indefinable emotion. It sounded almost as if he were angry, but he had no reason to be.
She touched his arm in a conciliatory gesture. “Right.”
His expression was serious and a little frightening as he bent and hooked one arm under her knees while using the other to support her shoulders.
She was airborne before she could gather her wits enough to demand, “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Giving in to my instincts.”
That was it. That was all he said as he carried her into the bedroom. He didn’t talk again. Not while he kissed her senseless as he stripped her clothes from her body; not while he aroused her in ways he hadn’t even done the night before. He said nothing as he brought her to one shattering climax after another, but she said plenty. A lot of pleases, Grants, and even swearwords and demands she’d blush about later.
They didn’t make it to his house for another three hours.
Chapter 12
“Eudora givens evicted you this close to Christmas?” Roy Cortez’s voice boomed with a condemnation that for some reason Zoe could not fathom rang a little false.
She watched him, trying to figure out why his eyes expressed something that looked like satisfaction while his mouth voiced censure. He and Lottie had arrived from Portland an hour after Grant and Zoe had made it back to the Double C, and Grant had just finished telling them about her eviction.
“I can’t believe it.”
Zoe smiled at Lottie’s words. “Large dogs intimidate her, and she positively hates rodents. She freaked out when she found Bud in the bathroom.”
“Bud?” Roy’s angular face, so like his son’s, creased in amusement. “You say he’s a hamster?”
“That Grant gave you?” Lottie wasn’t looking at Zoe.
Her entire attention and disapproving frown was settled on her stepson. An inch shorter than Zoe, the older woman’s regard still managed to bring a sting of red up Grant’s throat and into his cheeks.
“Yes.” The word carried a wealth of guilt, which stung Zoe’s own conscience.
“The hamster wouldn’t have been such a big deal if I wasn’t already four pets over my one pet quota.”
“You wouldn’t have any fool quota for your pets if you’d let Grant rent your old house to you.” Roy shook his head as he shifted his tall frame on Grant’s living room couch, moving infinitesimally closer to Lottie.
Zoe took a sip of the Christmas blend coffee Lottie had brought with her and insisted on making when they arrived. The subtle cinnamon flavor teased her tastebuds as she prepared to defend her decision not to rent her old home from Grant yet again. She wasn’t taking charity from Grant and that was that. “I can’t afford the rent a house like that would command.”
Roy glared at her, his expression so like his son’s Zoe couldn’t help an internal smile. “Grant wouldn’t have charged you more than you could afford. He’d have been happier if you would have taken the house as a gift, like he wanted you to in the first place.”
Zoe grimaced, but held onto her temper. It wasn’t Roy Cortez’s fault he saw the world thro
ugh the eyes of independent wealth. “Bottles of expensive perfume are gifts. Houses are not.”
Grant frowned at his father. “Zoe didn’t want the house.”
Zoe stifled an urge to sigh. Grant was wrong. She had wanted the house, and the security it represented, but she’d had to prove she could make it on her own. If her own parents could cut her loose, she couldn’t rely on the Cortezes to take care of her.
“That’s right, Roy. Leave the poor girl alone. She’s independent, and we wouldn’t want you any other way,” Lottie said as she smiled gently at Zoe.
Roy shrugged. “Stubborn too, but I still say Grant would have felt a whole lot better if Zoe’d taken the house. He felt pretty bad, advising Jensen to sell.”
Zoe felt as if everything inside her had gone still. She turned to meet Grant’s wary blue gaze. “You told my dad to sell the ranch?”
He’d never said. Neither had her dad. Not that that surprised her.
“Yes.”
“Did you also advise him to sell it without telling me first? Without giving me a chance to talk to him about it?”
It was Grant’s turn to grimace, his gorgeous blue eyes reflecting frustration. “No. I didn’t tell him to make the sale without talking to you first. But what would you have said, niña? You couldn’t run it.”
Ignoring Roy’s interested gaze, and Lottie’s sympathetic one, Zoe demanded, “How do you know?”
Grant’s expression said it all. He knew—just like her dad had known. “Come on, Zoe. You never wanted to be a rancher. You’re a kindergarten teacher and you love it.” He leaned forward in his chair, tension vibrating off him. “Can you honestly say you would be happier trying to run the ranch?”
Of course not. But that wasn’t the point. “If my brother had lived, you can bet my dad wouldn’t have sold off the land and house without talking it over with him first.”