Page 20 of Tempting Her Grumpy Protector
Reminding himself that Sunny could never be his.
13
SUNNY
Sunny was frustrated.
No—scratch that—she was furious.
Greer hadn’t said a word about what had happened between them—about the way he’d touched her, the heat in his eyes, or the fact that he clearly wanted her as badly as she wanted him. He’d just shut down like some big, grumpy steel door and acted as if it had all been… nothing.
Which was ridiculous.
Because it had been something. Sunny had felt it—like fire jumping between them. She’d seen the desire in his pale gray eyes when they went half-lidded with lust. She’d felt it in his touch when he palmed her breasts and teased her nipples…when he’d stroked the heated button of her clit. God—she was still so turned on it was hard to think straight!
But then Greer just shut her down. He wouldn’t talk about anything—most especially not about what they’d done together. It was like he was trying to forget it had ever happened.
Well, Sunny couldn’t forget. Her mind was filled with images…and fantasies where the two of them went further. She thought of his long, thick shaft. He had changed into silky black sleep trousers when they came back to the hut, but she could still see the thick length of his cock lying along the inside of one thigh. Or had been able to see it before he turned over and put his back to her.
So she’d tried rubbing against him, pressing her breasts to his broad back…but there was no response. Either he didn’t want her after all—which she refused to believe—or he had a will of iron, which seemed more likely. But how was she supposed to get him to admit he wanted her when he wouldn’t even acknowledge her presence?
It was maddening!
To make matters worse, she’d barely gotten to see any of the Thropp’ian mating customs before they’d been kicked out in disgrace. She needed this data. Her research was hanging by a thread—and so was her patience. She was here to observe, not sit in a hut all night like a grounded teenager while her Protector brooded in bed.
She sat up and glanced over at Greer now. He was stretched out on the high platform bed, breathing deeply, his face turned away from her. Maybe he really was asleep. Or maybe he was just pretending so he wouldn’t have to talk to her. Either way, she wasn’t going to waste the night.
Sunny moved quietly, grabbing her carry-all cube from where it sat in the corner. She popped the top and rummaged until she found the small woven bag she’d brought along for fieldwork. She dug past a handful of miniaturized clothes and equipment, as well as her trusty vibrating rabbit until she found her Think-me—a delicate circle of golden wire that would fit snugly around her head like a crown. It would let her call for help if she needed it, though she seriously doubted she would. She’d done plenty of unseen observation before—this wasn’t her first rodeo.
She wasn’t planning to interact with anyone. She was just going to watch from the shadows, maybe take a few notes. The Thropp’ians wouldn’t even know she was there.
Sunny slipped the strap of the little bag across her chest and adjusted it so it wouldn’t slide around if she had to crouch or hide.
Greer still didn’t stir.
Good.
She slipped from the bed, down the little set of wooden stairs and onto the floor. Carefully, she crept toward the door, every step silent on the woven reed mats that covered the dirt floor.
As she left the hut behind and melted into the jungle, she told herself this was for science. For the integrity of her mission. For the cultural record.
Not because she was still simmering from the way Greer’s big hands had felt on her skin… or because she wanted to prove to herself she didn’t need her overbearing Protector watching her every second.
Just a little unseen observation trip.
What could possibly go wrong?
14
SUNNY
The Thropp’ian village was quieter now, but not silent. Sunny could still hear the steady murmur of voices, the occasional bright laugh, the rhythmic thump of a drum somewhere deeper in the long Communal hut. She kept to the shadows under the broad, fan-shaped leaves, moving slowly, careful not to step on a twig or rustle a frond.
From this angle, she could see the glow of the main gathering area ahead—a wide space ringed by low firepits, the flicker of flames painting the triple-breasted Thropp’ian women in warm gold and deep shadow as they moved. They were clustered in little knots, talking, eating, drinking from carved mugs.
Some were dancing, moving sensually to the drumbeats, as the men watched, all three of their eyes open and lazy with desire. Sunny crouched behind a tree trunk, adjusting her line of sight so she could observe without being seen. This was definitely some kind of mating dance—the way the women thrust out their breasts and undulated their hips—their hands sliding over their bodies. The men were watching and some were stroking their shafts openly—clearly unashamed at how aroused the women’s dance was making them.
But Sunny had barely had time to start cataloging their body language when a booming voice shattered her cover.
