Page 37 of Grissom
But Grissom was different, and that was a large part of his appeal. He seemed to have no idea how wealthy she was, and he’d only ever seen her as the woman who’d rescued his boys.
Okay then. Feeling a tiny bit more confident, Tuesday lifted her shoulders and sucked in a breath. She was no dummy. She’d faced down bossy male elephant seals, protective mother camels, and a few rowdy bears in her life. Even a pesky African lioness once. She knew what she wanted, and she wanted thetense gentleman sitting by the fire. The man she’d almost run away from.
Sure, Grissom was moody and damaged, but she was, too. Scrubbing her sweaty palms down the sides of her jeans, she prepared to stare down another kind of beast. The horny male she’d turned on. If she did it once, she could do it again.
Chapter Eighteen
“That’s the crux of the debacle I made of tonight,” Grissom explained. “I’ve never truly been in love before, at least not until my boys were born. Them, I love with my whole heart. Always will. Don’t have a clue how not to. Have you ever, umm, been in love?”
He’d stepped over the line with Tuesday the way he’d gone caveman on her before. He’d damned near lost his mind once he’d had her soft, compliant body strapped over his hips. He’d embarrassed himself, like an inexperienced teenage boy after his first wet dream.
There was no excuse. Nothing that happened today was her fault, and he’d never blame her for his lack of control. The problem was all him. His experience with women had always been a contest of wills, of will she or won’t she? Does she or doesn’t she? And honestly, most of them wouldn’t and didn’t. There was always something wrong and it was usually him. Which was why he avoided women, except for the occasional hooker or tag chaser. He’d never been with a genuinely classy lady like Tuesday. Not only was she smart and capable of taking care of herself, she was drop-dead gorgeous, and he was weak. Damned weak.
“Just my dad,” she croaked, licking her lips.
Grissom’s cock noticed those succulent lips, the horny bugger. Strawberries. That was what they were, juicy, sweet strawberries he wanted to taste, lick, and bite. Her lips were slick from her tongue, but bruised from his kisses. It was hard not to stare at the delicate Cupid’s bow of her top lip, perfectly matched against the plump cushion of her swollen bottom lip. One tasteof her was all it took. He was thoroughly, impossibly addicted to this amazing woman.
But Tuesday was tired and nervous, still not making solid eye contact. He wanted to kick his own ass for frightening her, so he turned his head and faced the fire instead. Shoving the heel of one hand against his zipper to adjust himself, he hoped she didn’t notice how tight his pants were.
Tuesday hadn’t a clue what simply licking her lips was doing to him, and that was part of her charm. Inexperienced and innocent American women her age were unheard of these days. She’d seemed more confident before, but that illusion had faded. Now, she sat at the opposite end of the couch. Away from him. He didn’t blame her.
Grissom stayed at his end. “Please, d-d-don’t take this the wrong way, but you’ve got to stop licking your lips,” he told the fireplace. “Because right now, I’m as close to losing it as I was before.”
“Losing what?”
He closed his eyes. That right there—her complete lack of sophistication—killed him. It was unfathomable. Obviously, she didn’t watch much television, not like that was a surprise. Nothing on American TV was family-oriented anymore anyway, and don’t get him started on those trashy reality shows.
“Of losing control.” Grissom turned to face Tuesday, his eyes tracking her reaction. “Every time your tongue sweeps over your bottom lip, I have a vision of you and me mashed together, and” —he raked his fingers over his beard— “you know biology, right? The physical differences between men and women?”
“Sure, I know that. I’m not stupid.”
“I never thought you were. But there are different ways a man shows a woman he loves her, and for a woman to express her love in return... if she wants to, sometimes, mouths and lips and tongues get involved in different places and…” This was aconversation for the records. One Grissom thought he’d have one day in the far, far-off future. With Tanner. Maybe.
He did have Tuesday’s undivided attention, though. The cords in her throat tightened as she swallowed. “You mean, men and women kiss each other… down there?”
“Yes, down there,” he explained, gentling his voice even more. “Love between a man and woman is sacred. Whatever they want to do is no one else’s business. You never watched, um, porn?” He let that question trail away, hoping he wasn’t embarrassing her. Also hoping she wasn’t into porn because it was a far cry from anything sacred. Hoping he’d get to be the man who taught her about sex. Wouldn’t that be a miracle? A loser like him, blessed to love, honor, and protect a treasure like her? To teach her the finer points of marital bliss? Not that he had any experience in the bliss department. He was no virgin. He’d watched his share of porn as a teenager, and God knew what a mess his marriage had been.
Tuesday blinked those big, beautiful green eyes at him. “No, never. Why would I? It didn’t seem smart to play around with something I’d never, umm, have.” Her answer was full of worry as if he’d asked if she’d ever murdered anyone.
And Grissom fell in love with her all over again. What had he ever done to deserve a woman as sweet and pure as Tuesday?
“Play is the perfect word for what should go on between a man and woman if they truly care for each other,” he answered nervously. He’d never actually played during sex, not like he might with Tuesday. Until tonight, he hadn’t thought making love could be anything more than duty, especially after his shotgun marriage withWhat’s-Her-Name. All she’d wanted at the beginning was‘Slam, bam, thank you, ma’am,’and all she got afterward was nothing. She’d tricked him into marriage; he’d never loved her, and she’d sure as shit never liked him. Well,except for that first night. She must’ve liked him enough to keep the condom.
“I’ll be honest,” Grissom continued, thinking carefully how best to speak with this woman without making her feel more insecure. “Us guys get turned on by just about everything the woman we love does, with her hips, her lips, her eyelashes, hell, even if she flips her hair over her shoulder a certain way. By the way she walks and the shape of her lips when she talks. Hell, sometimes all she’s got to do is breathe, and we’re revved up and ready to go. As for me? Well” —he cleared his throat— “it’s been years since any woman turned me on, and for sure, it wasn’t my wife. Because you’re so sweet and, okay, innocent and the most genuine woman I’ve ever met, I lost control before, and I scared you. I’m sorry.”
“You want to… to play with me?” Her eyes narrowed like she was trying to understand.
Grissom nodded, hoping he was making his intentions clear. “Yes, I do. I’ve fallen in love with you at least a dozen times today. And every time, it’s because of how your eyes shine when you looked at me or my sons. How kindly you told Persia you would’ve sliced those apples for her. How you let me kiss you in the kitchen. It’s a hundred little things. You’re something else, Tuesday Smart.”
Lifting her index finger, she scratched her chin. “You love me?”
“Yes. I know it’s too soon, but I can’t hold it in any longer. Honest. If this wild, crazy, bubbly feeling in my gut is love, I want more of it. I want all of it, all of you. Only you. Would you… Would you mind if I… if I… Would you at least let me hold you while we talk?” He hoped so. Grissom extended an open hand, fully expecting rejection.
Tuesday’s head bobbed. “Okay.” Not‘I guess, if I have to.’Not‘Hell, no, never, you creep.’ Just that one sweet little word:‘Okay.’
A chestnut cascade rippled over her shoulders when, at last, she was back in his arms. The moment her body sank against his and her legs stretched across the cushions, the tension in Grissom’s world evaporated. Tuesday snuggled under his chin, as if she hadn’t been planning to leave him only moments earlier. Her poor heart still fluttered like she’d swallowed a butterfly. A big butterfly.
Grissom leaned back into the corner of the couch, taking her with him, keeping her tucked in close. Dipping his nose to the top of her head, he closed his eyes and swallowed a deep breath of roses in-bloom. Maybe she’d feel better if she knew his story. “I was never one of the popular kids in school. My mom…” His chest heaved. “Which is why I married a woman just like her, I guess. Role models and all that crap.”
