Page 36 of Grissom
Tuesday knew she’d poked the bear and now she had to deal with it. Him. “Are you going to kiss me or what?” she asked breathlessly. “Because if you aren’t—”
She’d no more than finished when his mouth was on hers, and the tip of his tongue was ardently testing the seam of her lips, and…
Yikes.Trembling like the damned virgin she was, Tuesday licked Grissom’s lips the same way he was licking hers. His whiskers rubbing her chin were softer than she’d expected, but those lips of his tasted like wine, only better. Sweeter. Full of dark magic she’d never experienced. With trepidation, she opened her mouth, intending to, at least, act like she knew what she was doing. How hard could it be?
The moment his tongue swept inside her mouth, lightning struck. Her eyes rolled back in her head at the decadent taste of his mouth. Her body tingled. Her toes. Her belly. The suddenly dripping wet place between her legs. While Grissom licked, nibbled, and devoured her, like she had that messy New York hotdog, a fire sprang to wiggling, twisting life inside of Tuesday. With every warm, wet caress of his tongue, the flame leaped higher and burned hotter. Her head buzzed. A muscle deep inside tightened with extraordinary tingles that felt a lot likepain and pleasure combined. Her heart pounded. Her breath came quicker. Before she could control her terribly unexpected, feral response to this man, that inner muscle snapped, unleashing a warm flood.
Grissom pulled her upright, then rolled over until she was straddling his hips, her knees digging into the couch. His hands still cupped her jaws, and he was French kissing the daylights out of her.
She dug her fingers into his bulky shoulders while his impressive erection pressed—right there. Between her spread legs.Oh my, oh my. Grissom, err,itwas no small thing. Her body unleashed another embarrassing flood at the mere thought of what that long, thick organ would feel like inside of her.
“I’m just a man, Tuesday, and men are pigs and…” He growled, his fingers slipping down her ribs.
Lost in the fog of decadent sensations, Tuesday had no idea what he meant. Did he want her to move?
Grissom’s back arched when she tipped away from him. “No, no, no! God, no. Don’t move, Love. Please. Hold still. Give me a minute.” That pained expression was back on his face.
Tuesday stilled, not understanding what he wanted, her to stay or go, but for sure not going to hurt him again. Everything was wrong. Not like in the movies. She’d ruined what could’ve been a romantic evening. Pursing her lips, she bowed her head and tried slowing her breathing and heart rate. When confronted or challenged by wild animals, not moving usually worked. She’d played dead often enough. She knew a few things about surviving in the wild. But she couldn’t very well do that now or here, could she?
“Sorry I frightened you, love,” Grissom whispered hotly against her lips. “I got carried away. I went too far and too fast, too soon. But you’ve never done this before, and I should’ve taken better care of you, and… Shit!” His eyes slammed shutand his body turned to steel beneath hers. His handsome face contorted. His heartbeat hammered beneath her fingertips. The veins up his neck and forehead bulged. He was in pain again.
What have I done?“I don’t know how to do this,” she cried, squeezing her eyes shut tight, so damned embarrassed.‘It’was twitching like a beast between her legs, but he seemed angry and—
“No, no, it’s truly not you, it’s me. I’ve… I’ve…” Shuddering, he raked a hand over his head and whispered throatily, “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.” With that, he gently set her against the back of the couch, and all but ran to the hallway. Maybe he just really had to go?
Tuesday didn’t have much time, not if she’d somehow hurt him. Hurriedly, she shoved into her boots, sans socks. She had no idea where those socks or her blazer were, and she didn’t care. But keys? Them, she needed. Patting her pockets down, she tried to remember where she’d put them after Grissom and Walker had retrieved her rental for her. She had to leave. It had been a long day and her poor brain was scrambled. Would he ever forgive her?
“Where are you going?” Grissom asked, surprising her from the hall.
Man, he was quick.
“Ahh...” Her heart climbed up her throat, as he walked back to where she stood at the opposite end of the couch. There was no easy way out of this.
Grissom held a hand out to her, the features in his face softer and his gaze so darned tender. Just like it had been when he’d dropped to the floor of that ratty hotel room in Puntarenas before his boys had run to him.
Tuesday stayed where she was, not sure what to do. “I have to leave.”
He didn’t grab her, didn’t touch her. Just held out that great big, callused hand of his and cocked his head, as if coaxing her to give him a second chance. Him, when she was the one who’d spoiled what had been an incredible evening.
His beautiful hazel eyes glistened as if his heart were breaking. That couldn’t be right. He was a man. He knew how sex worked. All men did. He’d had a wife, and they’d had two kids together. But Tuesday was still a teenage girl at heart. Didn’t matter how old she was or that she’d been educated in the best schools. She was still dumb to the most important thing in the world, the goings-on between men and women. She never should’ve watched all those stupid Disney movies.
“Please stay,” Grissom said quietly. “I got carried away and I frightened you, I know and I’m sorry. I messed up. I knew you’d never been with a man before, and, God, I can’t believe I’m going to tell you this, but…” He’d gotten too close, and the grip she hadn’t realized he had on her hips gentled. “Trust me, love. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted a woman in my life. Stay. I promise to be the gentle man you deserve. Give me another chance.”
It was hard to relax, especially since she’d been close to bolting and never coming back. “I…” She huffed, needing to admit her mistake, too, but needing more air to do it. “I, umm” —deep breath— “made a mess of things.” There. That said enough, didn’t it?
“Is that why you put your boots on?”
Darn. There was no way out of this disastrous night, so Tuesday plowed through. Again. Like Freddie’d taught her. “Can we just talk?”
Stepping aside, Grissom gestured her to join him on the couch again. “Deal. More wine?”
Falling in love shouldn’t be so hard! But what did she know about it? Nothing. She had no experience, no finesse, and noclue what was happening with her own body. Shaking like a ninny, she settled back onto the couch but kept her boots on. Just in case.
“Sure.”Because I need a drink!
She’d learned about sex in high school biology. Who hadn’t? But after her life fell apart and she’d gone so quickly from being plain Tuesday Smart to the infamous Mrs. Frederick Lamb, she’d set aside any thoughts of physical romance, dating, and sex. Why wouldn’t she? She’d never been in the backseat of a car with a guy. She’d been earnestly into sports, not into jocks like most other girls her age. She hadn’t dated. She’d been competitive, and, long story short, traumatized teenage girls didn’t think about sex. All she’d wanted then was her parents back, and since that wasn’t happening, she’d sunk into a depression that Freddie’d recognized and addressed. She’d seen her share of counselors, but nothing could bring her parents back. Or Freddie. He was just as gone as everyone else she’d ever loved.
Reading about the biology between men and women was one thing. Practicing it? Experimenting? Something else. She’d never, not once, bought a sex toy or practiced pretending. Because why? The only men who’d wanted her since Freddie’s death were con artists and liars. They’d never wanted her, just her for herself. They’d only wanted her money and the notoriety of being seen with Frederick Lamb’s young widow on their arms.
