Page 76 of Fish out of Water
I started to say something else but Grant’s mouth covered mine, smothering it off. Forcing me to face the reality I tried to lighten.
I was in Grant’s bed.
There’d been a few times in my twenty-five years where I knew my life was about to change.
The day I discovered my family was what most people considered weird.
The moment I decided I disagreed with what my parents believed.
The trip from North Dakota to Florida, all by myself in a U-Haul to start my own life on my own terms with my own rules.
And right now.
This minute.
With a man I didn’t seem to know much about.
But I knew the important things.
He was funny. He worked hard. He took care of what was important to him.
He would protect me.
He kissed better than any man I’d kissed up to this point.
And he looked good naked.
Grant grabbed at the fabric of my dress where it was tangled around my legs, yanking in every direction. “This damn dress.” He shifted over me. “I love it as much as I hate it.” He went to his knees, eyes dark as they stared down at me. He gripped the edge of the slit and whipped it open, sending the cool air across my skin. “When all this is over I’m taking you out for a real dinner, Jules.” He worked the line of the skirt up like he had in the closet. “Then I’m going to bring you back here and fuck you while you wear this dress.”
“Isn’t that what you’re going to do now?” I didn’t mean to sound as put out as I did.
But if he sent me to my room again I might snap.
Grant shook his head slowly, the color of his eyes growing impossibly darker. “No.”
It was a good thing he took my shoes from me, because right now I was feeling a little stabby again.
Grant’s fingers went to the buttons of the yellow shirt I picked out to match the toucan pants he managed to make look sexy as hell. “Tonight you’ll be naked when I fuck you.”
I almost choked.
I’d had sex.
I might have been a late bloomer, but I hit my stride pretty quickly, and all my experiences so far made me think men were pretty simple creatures when it came to times like this.
They didn’t care how it happened, just that it did.
Didn’t matter if you’d shaved. Didn’t matter if your panties matched your bra. Didn’t matter if you said the kind of awkward shit I usually did.
They.
Didn’t.
Care.
They were eager little puppies ready to do whatever it took to make sexy shit happen.
But Grant did not look like a puppy right now.
