Page 28 of Cowboy of Convenience
"Oh." A hint of disappointment accidentally carried through her tone. "If that's how you're more comfortable." She chewed her lower lip, feeling uncertain about a man for the first time. "But I'm fine if you want to be under the sheets too."
Wasfinethe right word? Probably not, but it was the one she would stick with even though the possibility of being next to such a naked version of Grady was much more thanfine.
But maybe this really was nothing more than a game to him. A fun way to interject a little excitement into his life.
“Evelyn.” Her grandmother barged right into her room without knocking. “Where in the world are you keeping your gin?”
“Umm.” She licked her lips, trying to find a little more moisture as her brain attempted to make the jump from Grady’s abs to cocktails. “I don’t have any.”
Grady’s hand came to slide through the freshly dried pile of her hair, fingers slowly gliding down the long strands. “We’ve got some beer if you want that.”
“Beer?” Her grandmother choked out the word. “All you have isbeer?”
Grady continued petting her, smoothing her hair behind one shoulder in an absent-minded fashion. “Ev’s not much of a drinker, so there’s no reason for us to have anything on hand.”
“Ev.” Her grandmother slowly repeated the nickname Grady absolutely created solely to irk her. “Isn’t much of a drinker?” Her eyes zeroed in on where Grady’s hand was now sliding across the skin of her shoulder. “Interesting.” She pulled in a deep breath, chin lifting on the inhale. “I suppose I will add that to the shopping list for Bernard.” Her lips pursed. “Should I assume you don’t have tonic either?”
Evelyn swallowed hard as Grady’s touch skimmed down her arm, fighting to stay focused. “I would say that’s a safe assumption.”
“Very well.” Her grandmother’s gaze slid over them one more time before she turned away. “Enjoy your evening.”
When the door was closed and her grandmother’s steps faded to nothing, Grady leaned close, his feather light touch continuing. “How many more times do you think she’ll come in here tonight?”
Evelyn’s head fell back against the headboard. “I don’t even want to guess.”
“I bet I can make it zero.” Grady’s eyes sparkled as his free hand gripped the carved wood of the headboard she’d convinced an acquaintance to smuggle out of her loft and ship to Moss Creek. His bicep flexed as he pushed against it, bouncing the edge against the drywall behind their heads in a slow, rhythmic beat.
A beat that she quickly started to feel in troubling places.
Between the familiar way he’d just touched her and now imagining the rate at which he fucked, she was practically squirming in the sheets when his pace started to get faster. She couldn't look away from him. Couldn't take her eyes off the wickedly sexy smirk on Grady’s face as he fake fucked her into the wall. It was confusingly erotic and frustratingly unsatisfying. By the time he ended, punctuating the torturous interlude with four, spaced out hits, she was heavily considering a trip back to the bathroom.
But she was the only one struggling to maintain their composure. Grady was grinning from ear to ear, looking pleased as hell with himself, like he was having every bit of the fun he claimed to want. "It's a shame we’re on the backside of the house so Sasha couldn’t hear that." He pulled his hand from the headboard, dragging the blanket over his body. "Maybe tomorrow we can torture him a little longer during our walk."
Torturing Sasha did sound like fun. Almost as fun as whatever the actual torture would involve.
Hopefully it would be more kissing.
She almost laughed at the ridiculousness of the thought. She was thirty-two freaking years old. Way too old to be getting worked up over a few kisses and a fake fuck.
Grady gave her a conspiratorial wink. “Or we could kick this up a notch.”
Evelyn slumped down on the mattress, resisting the urge to rub her legs together in an effort to find relief. "What do you have in mind?"
Grady tucked one hand behind his head, the angle flexing the thick bulge of his bicep. "We could open the windows and you could put on a little bit of a vocal performance for him."
Was he suggesting— "You want me to fake an orgasm to make Sasha jealous?"
Grady’s eyes were shadowed in the dim light coming from the television, making it impossible to read his expression. "I guess that's up to you."
She might not be able to see his face, but there was an unmissable hint of suggestion in his words.
And she was turned on enough to take the bait. "What are my other options?"
Grady rolled to his side, facing her. "Your options are whatever you want them to be."
That sounded like an offer. An opportunity.
But different from all the opportunities she’d taken before and it left her uncertain.
