She was cold and wet and sent shivers over his entire body.
“You’re cold,” he muttered against her skin.
“Only on the outside.”
When he reached the top of the stairs, Grant stepped over his jacket and paused to drag at her tee, pulling it off over her head. He dropped it in a soggy clump on the floor. She wore a white bra with lace edges. Her breasts were round and plump, and he trailed his fingers over the curve of one, loving the way her puckered nipples stood out against the silk.
“Oh, man, I was so wrong.” He slid his fingers up her chest, her neck and around to her nape again before meeting her eyes. “Fast isn’t going to work with you. I’m definitely going to have to take my time.”
Seven
Faith couldn’t seem to pull in enough air. Or maybe she’d lost the blood supply to her brain. All she knew was her head felt light and dizzy, and she couldn’t think straight with Grant’s erection pressed between her legs. Even with two layers of denim between them, his heat burned through, and she was dying to feel him more intimately.
With one hand supporting the middle of her back, he crossed the sales floor at a snail’s pace, preoccupied with stroking her breasts and teasing her nipples. This wasn’t what she’d expected. Faith had expected a wild flurry of wallbanging, animalistic sex once she’d told him what she wanted. But as she gripped his tee to keep from falling backward, he was focused on her breasts as if they were the Holy Grail or held the secret to the universe or something. And every slide of his finger over her nipple felt like a stroke between her legs, and made her wriggle and moan.
“Sensitive,” he murmured, slipping his finger beneath the clasp between her breasts and flicking it open.
The silk fell aside, exposing her. A sudden sense of vulnerability made her shiver. He hummed with pleasure at the sight and cupped one breast with his whole hand, squeezing and stroking. Brushing her nipple with his thumb. The touch was like lightning through her chest, darted straight between her legs and pushed a whimper from her throat. By the time he reached the door leading to her apartment on the opposite side of the store, Faith thought she might be on the edge of orgasm. All she could think about was the ache between her legs and the way it pulsed as quickly as her heartbeat. Knew how badly she needed to sate the need clawing deep at her core.
But instead of opening her door and taking her upstairs, Grant lifted her to the edge of the shipping counter along the back wall. Shoving tape and scissors and pens aside, he laid her back across the wide, solid wooden surface that had been a fixture at the store as long as she’d been alive. Faith had to prop herself up with her elbows to keep her head from hitting the wall, which rendered her hands useless. And when Grant straightened and stared down at her, raking her with those hot, hungry eyes, she was sure she’d never felt more exposed, more helpless, more excited or more beautiful.
“Take me upstairs,” she told him, her voice breathy with the effort. “The doors unlocked.”
“Not yet.” He put both hands at her waist, slid them up to her breasts and cupped. Molded. Stroked.
“Grant, I want—“
He met her eyes and brushed both nipples with all five fingers of each hand. The shock of pleasure tingled over the flesh of her breasts first, followed a millisecond later by deep, penetrating pleasure. Pleasure that transferred directly between her legs and made her lift her hips to rub against him while a low, hungry sound vibrated in her throat and her eyes fell closed.
“What—exactly—do you want, Faith?” His voice was low, raspy and serious with an edge of darkness. “Because I thought I knew what I wanted when I came. And since I’ve touched you, that’s totally changed.”
She forced her eyes open and pushed up on her hands. “What...do you mean?”
“I came to hookup with a sexy country girl who knows her own mind and doesn’t take any shit.”
His fingertips brushed the opposite direction, zapping another lightning strike of pleasure through her. She whimpered and her head fell back, just missing the wall. “Ah...God...”
A growl rolled from his throat and he closed his hands on her breasts hard, making Faith wince.
“But just getting this tiny a glimpse of your sexy side makes me want all kinds of other things. Things I haven’t wanted in years. Things I may have never wanted. Things that turn me inside out.”
He took one nipple between his fingers, pinched hard, shooting a spike of lust through her chest and sex at the same time. Then rolled it gently, rubbing away the pain and stroking excitement back into her body until all Faith could do was arch and whimper and moan. “Grant.”
He pressed his lips to her temple and kissed h
er. “So tell me what you want, Faith,” he murmured, his rich, husky voice tingling down her neck and over her shoulder. “What you really want. So I know where my boundaries are.”
Boundaries? She didn’t know anything about boundaries in sex.
“I...don’t know what...you mean.” She was panting and aching and she really just wanted to feel him inside her.
He lifted his head, pressed one hand to the table and met her gaze deliberately. “I mean you make me fucking insane,” he said from behind clenched teeth. “I mean that every little flicker of your pleasure is like a hit of my favorite drug and drives me like a fucking addict.” He brushed her nipple, and she shivered. Then he pinched it and she gasped. Rolled it and she moaned. “I want to do whatever it takes to get those sounds out of your mouth. Whatever it takes to keep that drugged look in your eyes. Whatever it takes to get you as addicted to me as I am to you right now.”
“Yes,” she said, breathless, and leaned into one arm to lift the other and wrap it around his head. “Yes, I want that.”
“Even if that means letting me have control? Complete control?” He paused and a shiver rattled through her chest. “Say yes, Faith.”
He made it seem so simple. And she heard herself say, “Yes.”