Just That Easy (12 page)

“Okay, so we have physical attraction, two intelligent,
educated, thoughtful people who know what they think and what they like, and
can probably make a decision in about ten minutes whether or not they would
pursue a friendship with someone they meet on a street corner. So why exactly,
after even just a few days of intimately exploring every crevice of each other’s
bodies and talking for hours in between, can’t we get to the point where you’d
accept ‘we like each other’?” His voice was low, even. It had taken on a
forceful tone. Not angry but no longer relaxed, either.

“I didn’t say we didn’t like each other, Grant. I said we
haven’t gotten past the sex.”

“So you say. You
want
to believe different. I want to
do something to make that happen. I want you to let me take you on a little
tour.”

“Tour of what?”

“What you really want. Who you really want to be. Your
secret desire for totally hot sex, total freedom and true love. Your innermost
secret desires.”

“How do you know my secret desires?” The eyebrow went up to
the max curve on that one.

“You wrote them down.”

Her entire body felt rigid, the echo of his words rang through
her even while she kept a bored, half interested tone to her voice. “I’m lost.
Where did I write this down?”

“Your books.” He gave her shoulder another little squeeze,
the small gesture letting her know he wasn’t fooled for a second by her façade.

“Oh shit,” she sighed, closed her eyes and waited.

He turned her face to his again. The time the smile was
gentle, he tried to hide the triumph in his gaze but she saw straight through
it. “Oh yeah.”

“You couldn’t possibly have read all my books already,” she
grumbled, turning her face back to his chest, inhaling his scent in an
involuntary search for comfort.

“No, I skimmed some, I admit it. But I’m a speed reader, so
I got most of it. There’s some pretty good stuff in there. You were right, now
I know why women are addicted to them. Holy crap these people fuck a lot.” His
hips shifted in an unconscious move that almost made her laugh.

“Uh, thanks?”

His tone grew serious again. “And that’s exactly my point.
Your characters connect through sex but always find a way to make that
connection bridge to another one, right? So even if you don’t buy it for
yourself, you would like to believe it’s possible. It’s all about learning to
let go. Anyway, I made this list. A few select scenes.”

“Your favorite scenes?”

“No. Yours.”

Her breath caught for a second. “Now how do you know that?”

“Well, I don’t. I just guessed. Okay, so maybe they were
mine,” he chuckled. “Whatever. Point is I have an idea. I want you to agree to
give it a shot.”

“Uh-oh.” Uh-oh didn’t even come close. The creeping feeling
of not only her words being proven wrong, but being completely caught in a trap
that may threaten her ability to keep him at a distance twisted her belly into
a knot.

“See, there you go. You always want to shy away from
everything before you even know what it is, but in your books you don’t shy
away from anything. And you sure as hell don’t shy away when I’ve got you naked
and wrapped all around me.” His hands on her shoulders, pulling her up again to
face him, reminded her of not only his physical power over her, but the lure of
wanting to let his words take her as well.

She shrugged off the urge to let herself be convinced so
easily. “Because there are no strings attached in my books, none of those
people exist. I mean, nothing is that good in real life.”

“Really?” His gaze was intense. “You don’t think what we’re
doing has been
that
good? Shit, I do.” His eyes turned away, he looked
disappointed.

“Okay, yes, it is that good. Actually, better. You know what
I meant,” she grumbled. It burned a little how much she needed to amend the
lie, to wipe the discouraged look off his face.

The renewed enthusiasm as he turned back to her made her
smile whether or not she wanted to admit that making him happy mattered so
much.

He lifted a hand to her hair, stroking a long piece between
his fingers, his eyes burning deep indigo. The color she’d learned to associate
with his passion, and now realized reflected any deep emotion he felt. That,
though, sent a terrified shot of adrenaline through her.

“Whether or not you believe what I tell you,” he said as he
leaned in to kiss her forehead softly, “maybe you’ll believe what you feel if
you take a little walk on the wild side with me.”

Her body tightened further. “As in?”

“As in I want to help you live some of those little
fantasies. One by one. Pull you out of that safe little shell you like to hide
in. Help you learn to trust yourself, so you can trust that what you feel isn’t
going to sit up and bite you in the ass.”

“What’s this plan, then?” Her alarm lessened only slightly.
He seemed to be talking more physical than emotional. She hoped.

“Just let me take care of that. Trust me, and promise me
you’ll give it a shot, that you’ll go along with it.”

The trap closed. Fear burned in her belly that this would be
far more than just living out a few fantasies in bed as surely as the fact that
his confident lack of detail and demand for her to trust him wasn’t enough to
make her refuse. His dominance prevailed, and he damn well knew it.

She sighed in both defeat and anticipation, the promise of
what he offered too much to resist even when the danger of losing her heart to
him loomed in the distance. Regardless of her inner submission she kept her
words guarded. “So far, I can’t say no to a damn thing you ask. I’m in. Nothing
weird though, right?”

“Depends on what you think is weird.”

She giggled. “Uh, creepy fetishes. Food, bodily functions,
animals, toes.”

“Hey, toes can be sexy. But, no, no problem there. I’m
pretty sure you didn’t write any of those, anyway. Anything else?”

A surge of courage gripped her as she let herself fall into
the idea. “Surprise me.”

“Oh, I intend to do just that,” he said in the low, husky
near growl she loved in his voice. Her body automatically softened into him as
he cupped her face and kissed her.

When he pulled back to look in her eyes, she yawned
involuntarily. The nonstop sex was getting to her. She could see dark circles
under his eyes too as he laughed softly. “I think we should get some sleep,
we’ve got a busy day tomorrow. You promised to work out with me.”

“I remember,” she nodded, thinking that the idea had sounded
delicious, watching all that hard muscle at work.

He tilted his head, looking at her again. His deep blue eyes
were contemplative this time, and something else she couldn’t quite figure out.
“Okay then. Well I guess I should get going.”

His words hit her like a gut punch. They hadn’t not spent
the night together since they met, even if it was only four days ago. But every
other time they’d collapsed against each other in exhaustion already in her bed
and slept like babies.

This time, the sex was long done hours ago and the only
thing she could feel between them was the loud empty silence of “now what?”.
The idea of him being gone from her for an endless night was too much. His
point was driving home already and he knew it. The exact one he’d just promised
not to push. Except he wasn’t pushing it. Instead, in that masterful way he
had, he let her own need make it obvious that she couldn’t deny how she felt on
this any more than he could.

One small cave to him wouldn’t kill her.

“Stay with me,” she whispered into his chest, unable to meet
his eyes. “As if you think I didn’t want you to.”

“I thought you were never going to ask me.” He exhaled. “But
no more sex, you’re going to kill me.”

“Me? Give me a break, who’s the ringleader in this circus?
Not me…” She laughed loudly, relief at the intense exchange being over for the
moment, anxiety at what was to come looming just at the edge of her thoughts.

“True, true.” He chuckled the comforting laugh that always
ran straight through her body and it eased her even more. “Okay, I’ll own that
one. Just take me to your damn bed, will you? I promise to fall asleep like a
good little boy.” He shifted and stood, pulling her up into his arms
effortlessly and reminding her of his physical power over her once again. “I’m
not makin’ any promises for what happens when I wake up,” he growled, placing a
possessive nip on her neck as he strode for the bedroom. She relaxed, giving in
to him in more ways than one.

What happened when they woke up was Grant kissing her
lightly on the nose, putting on a pair of body-hugging lycra shorts, and
looking down at her still sprawled on the bed.

“I’m so tired,” she groaned into her pillow. “Tell me you
are not ready to go to the gym at 7:15.”

“Nope. Going for a run.”

“You’re that energetic?” She turned her head just far enough
to throw him a suspicious glance.

“Mmm hmm, your fault. You got me cranking out testosterone
like a faucet.”

“Right. My fault. When you are going to go running in that.”
She waved toward his shorts, taking a moment to crack her eyes open farther and
appreciate the spectacular view.

“These?” He looked down at his shorts. “What, they show me
off?” He grinned ear to ear at her appreciation.

“Just a little.”

“Good thing I have these then.” He put a on pair of loose
shorts over the skintight lycra. “Those are so I don’t chafe, don’t want to be
all raw and sore, you wouldn’t like me like that.” Pulling on a thin running
shirt, he did a little turn for her perusal. “Better?”

“Not for me, but for the poor women driving by you when you
run, yeah, save them from crashing.”

“Now who’s the sweet talker?” he said, still smiling as he
bent to put on his running shoes.

“I’m just telling it like it is, hot stuff.” Snuggling
farther back into the blankets she watched him finish dressing, feeling sleepy
but unwilling to give in to it when the vision in front of her made it worth
staying awake.

“Uh huh.” He leaned down and kissed her shoulder. “Well,
long as you think so that’s all that matters. I’ll be back in a while. We can
go work out whenever you’re ready. Since I have the day off, we can do whatever
the hell we want.”

She liked the sound of that. Whatever we want. With him it
seemed as if the possibilities were endless.

“Cool. ‘Kay. Be safe. I’m not moving.” She yawned, finally
letting her eyes slide closed.

“Good girl, rest up.” He patted her hip and left her alone
in her bed.

It felt odd. Lying there, too many thoughts began bubbling
to the surface. She opened her eyes and looked around her room. Her space. Now
jointly occupied by Grant, there was more of him here in her bedroom than she’d
seen in his own apartment. His blazer still hung over the back of the chair by
the bed from two nights ago. Another small pile of clothes sat on the dresser,
he’d had to keep bringing more and more since he’d been leaving for work from
here for the last few days. The huge leather bag he carried with a whole weird
assortment of books, training gear, and god knew what, lay on the floor next to
the nightstand. She had no desire to look in it. As much as he was still a bit
of a mystery to her, she hated jealousy, hated sneaking around behind someone’s
back. It was such a waste of time and energy, people were going to do what they
were going to do, and trying to manipulate to stay ahead of them, playing a
game to be on top… It wasn’t true, wasn’t real.

What a freak I am
. Loving his things being all over
the place in her house, but not wanting him to own a spot in her heart.

May as well get up
.
Once her mind started working,
tired or not, there was no more sleeping.

Once she had coffee in her, her energy level approached
normal, but her desire to do any work didn’t. Time to do some menial jobs—it
always helped her stop thinking so much. Moving to take the trash bag out of
the basket, she accidentally tripped over the leg of one of the kitchen chairs,
still askew from last night.

“Dammit!”

Nursing her toe she started picking up the stuff that had
spilled over the top of the bag when she tipped it trying not to fall. It was
the price tag that caught her eye. A tiny little sticker on the top of the
shiny burgundy foil that must have come off the wine. A dollar and twenty-five
cents.

It struck her funny. No wonder it tasted so damn good, cheap
wine always was…

Until she realized it wasn’t a dollar twenty-five. It was
one hundred and twenty-five.

No. Fucking. Way
. Alarm bells rang in her head, but
she couldn’t manage to put a logical reason to why. Other than the fact that
the man who was a part-time librarian with almost nothing in his apartment, and
did nothing but work and train, living outside for half the damn year for god’s
sake, had bought one hundred and twenty-five dollar bottle of wine. Just for
dinner.

“What the hell?” Her voice echoed in the room.

It wasn’t to impress her—he’d thrown the foil with the price
on it in the trash before she saw. It was just to have a good bottle of wine,
pure and simple. How the hell did he even know which bottle of expensive wine
would taste good? And he had known, no mistake on that. Expensive wine was just
as temperamental as cheap and could be just as disgusting, or great. A year
ago, some small winery had gone to the top of the vintner’s list by having a
two-dollar bottle of wine be rated the best in the country. What did that tell
her? What did that say about him?

French chocolate. Cappuccino machine in an almost empty
apartment. That wool blazer she knew was not off the rack at Macy’s, and now a
one-hundred and twenty-five dollar bottle of wine. Again with the weird. Weird
that they were just things he already had, or obviously knew about before he
met her. Odd juxtapositions with the sweet, athletic, easygoing Grant who
didn’t seem to care where he was, or what kind of environment, as long as he
was pursuing something that made him happy.

The door jolted her out of her thoughts, and she quickly
shoved the wine wrapper back in the trash with everything else.

Grant strode in, grinning cheerfully at her. “Hey, you.
Cleaning? Thought you were going to sleep in?”

“Couldn’t sleep, brain woke up.” Turning away, she busied
herself with the bag, trying to collect herself. He read her so well she could
barely hide anything and she had no desire to deal with this. She didn’t even
know what any of it meant.

“Hate it when that happens.” He nodded, taking the bag from
her hand and dropping it to the floor.

“Short run?”

“Kind of, just a warm up. Wanted to come back and see you.”
He slid in front of her and wrapped her in kisses, and him.

The tension started to melt, even with the nagging thought
that something wasn’t quite what it seemed, he was so without any kind of
deceit it almost didn’t seem worth worrying about. Except that’s what she did,
chew on things. But not right now.

“You’re sweaty,” she said, more appreciating his spicy male
scent and warmth than turned off by it.

He leaned back, looking at her. “Mind?”

“Actually, no,” she smiled up at him. “It’s kind of sexy.
Since you don’t smell, that is.”

“Lucky me.” He picked her up and hefted her half over his
shoulder.

“Hey!” she protested, laughing.

“What? You shouldn’t be hanging around in the kitchen in
just one of my T-shirts and panties if you don’t want me to carry you off to
bed.”

“I thought we were going to go work out? And I love your
T-shirts.”

“Oh I have a workout planned, all right. I love my T-shirts
on you.”

Settling her onto the bed, he slid in next to her, stripped
down to just his Lycra shorts.

“On your belly, girl,” he growled, palming her hip in his
big hand.

Stopping half into automatically obeying his command, she
turned her head to look back at him. The grin on his face spread warmth
straight through her. “Should I be scared?”

“Nope.” He shook his head, giving her butt a little smack to
get her moving again.

She lay on her belly, stretching her arms and legs out.
Expecting him to treat her to some kind of delightful new touch, she wasn’t
disappointed. Grant gave her the most luxurious body rub she’d had in her
entire life.

When he was done, he almost had to wake her up.

“Teryn?” His husky voice was a bare whisper, his breath warm
on the shell of her ear.

“Hmm.”

“Better?”

“Than what?” she mumbled, floating in the haze of total
bliss.

“How tense you were when I came back from my run.” He sat
next to her on the bed, still stroking the skin of her lower back lightly.

Oh. That. “Much. Don’t tell me you are a masseur, too.”

“No. I just like a good massage, figured it was only fair if
I could give one too.”

“Then you’ll have to teach me how to do that, because you
can’t massage yourself.”

“Ha. So you say.” He chuckled.

“Pervert.” She laughed back, thinking the image of that
might be pretty appealing.

“You know it, baby. Think you can pry yourself off that
mattress to go work out now?” He laughed, smacking her butt.

“Do I have to?”

“Yes.”

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “You do realize that before I
met you I never took orders from anyone. Rejected all authority. Always. Simply
on the grounds that someone was in charge.”

“Anarchist.”

“Absolutely. What does that make you?”

“Deliriously happy?”

* * * * *

“See, now you have to explain the attraction of that to me,
I don’t get it.”

“Of what?” His face was genuinely confused.

“The girl who walked by, the cardio bunny.”

“Huh?” His head swiveled around, trying to figure out who
she meant.

“The one whose ass you just looked at?” She laughed, nodding
her head toward the retreating backside.

“I did?” he asked, sounding naively innocent, while he
turned to watch it again.

“Yeah, hello. Even I looked at it.” She laughed.

His head shot back around to her. “You did? I mean, does
that bother you? I didn’t know I did.”

“Well of course you didn’t, you’re a man. No. It doesn’t
bother me. What bothers me is she’s trolling. Makeup on, outfit for working out
like she’s going to a bar, what the hell is up with that?”

“Well, there is a certain kind of woman…” His face taking on
a flat expression. “Trolling is exactly what they are doing. Do you think it
would be better to pick up someone in a bar, or a gym?”

“I come here to work out.” Her voice serious, she went back
to adjusting the plates on the lat machine for her next set of repetitions.

“Yeah, but you already have me.” His grin was infectious.

“What about before I met you?”

“You never checked a guy out while he was working out? Testosterone
pouring out like a flood and you’re telling me,
you
, of all people,
never noticed?” He shook his head at her, still grinning.

She couldn’t help but give in. “Oh, I notice. I notice that
they are hot, that they love themselves too much, that they notice the cardio
bunnies a lot more than me.” She sighed, sitting down on the bench, facing him.
He had taken his turn and now he was spotting her on hers. Sort of. Mostly he
was watching, appreciatively. “Look, I will never be like them, much as I love you
looking at me like that, I am never going to have that…that, whatever. I’m not
a bubbly blonde stick girl, and why do men fall all over that? Why I would even
want to be a little like that I have no clue.”

Standing up to let him have his turn, she pushed the edge of
insecurity out of her mind. Why the hell did it bother her that she wasn’t one
of the cute little things men looked at? It wasn’t as if she was unattractive,
but she wasn’t the typical type of straw-thin giggly waif men drooled over
either.

“Wow, this whole thing gets you worked up, doesn’t it? Not a
cheerleader, I take it?”

“Hell no!” Regretting the dead giveaway of her tone, she
clenched her teeth.

“Teryn, they aren’t here to get healthy, and men are
attracted to them because they advertise sex, what else? That’s all there is,
the only way they know how to get a man. Men can’t help themselves, well, those
dumbasses, anyway. Know what else men are attracted to? Smart men, anyway.”

“Hmm?” She affected a tone that hopefully conveyed she was
bored with this. Over it, whether true or not.

He put his hand on her thigh, stroking it lightly while she
tried to concentrate on counting. “Ever read a comic book?”

“Well, yeah.”

He kept up the light stroking of her thigh. “Know why guys
read those things? I mean, superheroes and violence, yeah. But, the women in
them, especially the female superheroes. Ever see one with little stick arms
and a skinny butt?”

The obvious direction of his point warmed her a little.
“Umm, no?”

“No.” This time he slid both his hands up her thighs, from
her knee to her hip, slipping easily over the thin shorts she was wearing. She
knew even he could feel her shiver slightly beneath them.

“Some men follow the obvious. It’s easy. Don’t have to
think, blink a neon chick in front of them and they’re gone. Then there are
other men, men like me, who think a little more than that. We require a little
more too.”

His hands smoothed higher up her body. She was having a lot
of trouble remembering what rep she was on. “You sure as hell do.” It was all
she could get out.

“So do you, sweet thing, so do you.”

“Okay! I get it, if you grab me in the middle of the gym—”

“You’ll what?” His eyes were laughing, taking the challenge.
He slid his hand in, up and over the full curve of her left breast as he stood
to move in close in front of her and reached up to grab the bar and spot her as
she slowly released it. His body wasn’t a hair’s width from hers, she could
feel the heat coming off him. Her senses filled with that now-familiar drug,
the smell of his warm skin.

His face stopped nose to nose with hers. Those blue eyes
were deep, serious. “Teryn, you are nothing to be overlooked. Believe me when I
tell you these guys don’t ever, ever miss what you are. What they do is tuck
their sorry ass little dicks between their legs and chase something easy
because, baby, you scare them. That little gleam in your eye, all that power
racing through you that you don’t even know you have. You know when you walk in
a room and that evolutionary DNA just kicks in and you zero in on that one guy,
and you know he’s the one, the one with the power to choose what he wants, and
make it his?”