Chapter 4 #4
Did she have to move like that? Arched back as she was over the work table, he could see every way her body shifted and twitched. “You shouldn’t play games like this with men.”
Her gaze dropped to his mouth. “Why? Are you afraid I’ll spoil your delusions that I’m still a little girl? Sorry to disappoint, Greyson, but I’m a grown ass woman. Your brothers realize it, why can’t you?”
“I’m aware you’re not a child anymore.”
“Haven’t been in some time.”
“If you want to be recognized as a woman, act like it.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It means, quit it with the games.” The tension coiled tighter as he held her challenging stare.
“No.”
His nostrils flared at the defiant way she whispered that word. He snatched her hand and pressed it to the bulge at his crotch.
“Greyson!” When she tried to pull away, he tightened his grip.
“Is this what you want?” He stepped forward, still holding her hand to his cock.
“You want to play games? Fine, let’s go there.
I could have you against that wall in two seconds flat and fuck you right into next week.
” He flung her hand away and growled. “I don’t like games, and you should know better than to taunt anything twice your size. ”
When he turned, she said, “I’m not the one afraid here, you are.”
“That’s it.” He shoved her into the wall and gripped the back of her neck. The second she gasped, he took her mouth in a hard, punishing kiss, shamelessly grinding his body against hers, showing her exactly what a man like him could do to a tiny little thing like her.
Her fist tightened on his jacket, and she moaned, soft and needy. He backed her into the wall, his feet tripping over the pots and bags of soil on the floor. Something heavy hit the floor with a thud, but he was in too deep to stop himself now.
“Who the fuck taught you how to kiss like this?” he growled against her soft lips.
Her fingers forked into his hair, jerking his head to the side to tease him with the tip of her tongue. “I don’t kiss and tell.”
The thought of anyone else touching her made him rabid. He cupped her jaw, taking back control, and she gave it over to him. Her leg hooked around his, and he lifted her.
His hips flexed as she moaned into his mouth, and he yanked her sweater aside, spreading open-mouthed kisses down her shoulder.
“Grey,” she breathed his name like a plea, and his cock pulsed.
Her shirt drooped low. One little nudge and—
“Fuck.” He paused and panted, his stare fixed on her breasts. The cotton sports bra was the only thing stopping him.
“Greyson?”
“Shut up.”
“Hey.”
“Sorry. I… I need a second to think.”
What were they doing? He was kissing Wren. They didn’t do this. This was dangerous. Too far, and there would be no undoing it. But she felt perfect in his arms, and he had a slab of granite in his pants. He could take her right here, and no one would ever need to know.
No.
He couldn’t.
Not with her.
Panicked, he tried to step back, but she caught him by the shirt.
“Greyson, you can’t leave me like this.”
His gaze snapped from her bra to her face, and his heart jolted. She appeared on the verge of an orgasm, but from what? They’d only kissed.
“Please. Don’t stop. Not yet.”
His cock twitched. He was so screwed. “Wren—”
“Just…pretend it’s not me.”
He frowned. As if that could ever be possible.
Slowly, she reached behind her neck and loosened the clasp of her bra. “Oops.”
What was she doing to him? This was insane.
Her hand dragged slowly between her breasts, pulling the loose cotton lower until the pink crescent of her areola showed. “I want you to do it...”
“Fuck me.” Yanking down the front of her cotton bra, her breasts popped free—nipples tight and stiff. He closed his mouth over one tip and sucked hard.
She arched into him and gasped, scraping her nails over his shoulders. He ground his hips against her, pushing her into the wall.
“Take this off.” One quick move and her arms were free, breasts fully exposed.
Her breathing turned erratic when he cupped her possessively. “Is this what you wanted? To see me lose control?”
“I don’t know.”
“You know.”
“Yes. Maybe.” She gasped when his teeth scraped over the sensitive tip.
“I’m not someone you should taunt.” He sucked her nipples harder, darkening the tips. Part of him wanted to punish her for making him lose control.
His hand shoved into those ridiculous harem pants she wore to teach her yoga classes. Wet heat met his fingers as he parted her folds, sliding into her slit until she made a sound of distress, and he stilled.
“What’s wrong?”
Her confidence vanished and her words came out in a stammer. “N-nothing.”
Suddenly feeling like a monster, he pulled his hand free. “You did this on purpose.”
“No, Greyson—”
“Damn it, Wren!” He dragged a hand through his hair, angry that she would be so reckless. “What were you thinking?”
“Me?”
“Yes, you. I told you there are rules. We don’t do this. Ever.”
“Those are your rules, Greyson. Not mine.”
“What are you trying to prove? You think because you can get a man to fuck you that somehow changes the situation? I told you no and you pushed anyway.”
“I guess you had absolutely nothing to do with this.” She waved a hand at her bare breasts.
“Cover yourself.”
She lifted her chin in defiance. “No. Not until you admit that you liked putting your hands on me.”
What he liked was irrelevant. “We’re done here.”
“Greyson—”
“Wren, we’re done,” he snapped, once again facing her. “This was a mistake.”
She flinched, and tears sprang to her eyes. Her nipples were still wet from his mouth, and her breasts were rosy from the scruff of his beard.
“For the love of God, fix your shirt.”
With shaky hands, she righted her clothes. “You don’t have to be such an asshole.”
“I told you not to push me. Why do you do that?”
“I barely did anything.”
“Bullshit. You followed me in here and purposely provoked me. What did you think would happen?”
Her lips firmed into a flat line, and she narrowed her eyes. “I guess I thought you might be honest for once.”
“I’m always honest.”
“Not with me. Not about your feelings. We’re not little kids anymore, Greyson. I just celebrated my thirtieth birthday.”
“I’m perfectly aware we’re not children and I bought your damn cake candles so I know how old you are.”
“Then act like a man and admit there’s something happening between us.”
The breath in his lungs turned chilled. She’d never actually called him out like that.
When he remained silent, she frowned. “Do you hate me so much?”
“Hate you?”
“When you like someone you don’t punish them this much.”
Is that what she thought? “I’ve only ever wanted to protect you.”
“From what? We live in one of the safest towns on the planet. I don’t need protection. I need affection. Are you honestly going to act like you don’t want the same?”
Of course, he wanted it, but not with Wren.
If they crossed that line, they’d never be able to uncross it.
He’d inevitably screw it up and then she’d hate him for disappointing her.
“Sometimes, it doesn’t matter what we want.
It only matters that we know what’s right and what’s wrong and choose correctly. ”
She gaped at him. “Was it right for you to chase away every guy who ever showed interest in me?” She shoved his chest. “Was it?” Her brows pinched. “Answer me.”
“Wren...” He was speechless. “I’m not...” Words evaded him. He checked his motives, but quickly grew frustrated with all that deep reflection. “You’re the one who followed me in here!”
She scoffed and looked away. “You should go.”
“Don’t get upset.”
“What do you care anyway if I’m upset?”
“I care.”
She scooted around him and adjusted her clothes. Her voice contracted as if she were holding back tears. “No, you don’t.”
“Wren...” He reached for her, but she drew back and knocked into the trash can full of rakes and shovels.
“Ouch!”
“Shit.” He shoved the falling tools, but not before more crashed into her and clattered loudly to the floor.
She cupped her shoulder protectively.
“Let me see.”
“Don’t.” She curled away as he tried to move her hand.
“Knock it off. Let me look at it.” He pulled her fingers away, revealing a surface scratch. “It’s just a graze.” Nothing that would scar, but it probably stung like a son of a bitch. He scowled at the spilled trash can. “Bodhi needs a better system. You’re lucky it didn’t leave a gash.”
She glanced over her shoulder and met his stare. They were too close.
Stepping back, he said, “You should still clean it out.”
She pointed to a small metal box hanging on the wall by the door. “There’s disinfectant in there.”
He looked at the little vintage box and frowned. It looked like a prop from MASH. “Do you have anything from this century?”
She rolled her eyes. “I keep it stocked with up-to-date supplies.”
He pulled down the box and sorted through the gauze and tapes until he found alcohol wipes. “This should work. Sit here.” He cleared an empty stack of flower pots off the work table and lifted her onto the surface.
She turned her shoulder and lowered her shirt. There was something so elegant and feminine about her body. Every inch of muscle seemed honed to perfection, like a natural work of art.
She gasped when he touched the alcohol-soaked towel to the cut.
“Sorry. Does it sting?”
“It’s cold.” She shivered.
“There. Good as new.” He pulled her shirt and sweater into place and stood silently for a moment. “About what happened—”
“It’s fine. We don’t have to dissect it.”
“I should have had more control.”
“Greyson, I said it’s fine. Besides, you were right. I started it.”
He still felt guilty. He didn’t want her to feel embarrassed. “It’s my fault. It’s been a long time since I...” He cleared his throat. “You know. Not that that’s an excuse. But I’m usually not so...”
She laughed. “No matter how long it’s been for you, I’m sure I’ve got you beat.”