The Expert's Guide to Driving a Man Wild Page 7

  He moved to the fridge and shut the door. Could she not pay attention for five minutes? “You and I had sex last night. We slept together.”

  “Yes, we did.” She looked unconcerned.

  “So what was that, then?”

  “Fun?”

  “Fun? That’s all it was to you?” It was the first time he’d had sex with someone since Heather died. Not that there hadn’t been offers—he just hadn’t been interested. This was big for him. Momentous. A changing point in his life. And she thought it was just . . . fun?

  She shrugged. “I mean, it was really good and all, but what do you want me to do, Grant? Move in or something?”

  He was actually thinking of something like that. “If you wanted.”

  Brenna blanched, looking ill at the thought. “I’ll pass.”

  “You’ll . . . pass?”

  “Yep, I’ll pass.” She patted his chest. “You’re nice and all, Grant, but I’m not interested in something permanent. I thought we were just having fun.”

  He stared at her. “Fun,” he repeated in a flat voice.

  “Yes, fun. With a side benefit of being really, really convincing.” She grinned and headed to the front door. “I’m going to grab some pants and then head in for work. Shower’s all yours.”

  And she waved at him and slipped out the front door.

  He stood in his kitchen, staring at the door and trying to register what had just happened. She’d turned him down. Flinched away from his casual affection. All she’d wanted was a nice bit of fun last night? Seriously? That was all it was to her?

  Last night had been amazing. He’d never had such incredibly intense sex with anyone, not even his wife. And she’d seemed to be as in to him as he was to her. What the hell had changed? His eyes narrowed at the door, as if imagining her still standing there.

  He felt . . . used. Which was stupid, but there it was.

  • • •

  Well now, that had been uncomfortable. Brenna trotted down the steps, heading across the grass to her own cabin a short distance away.

  Stupid Grant. Why couldn’t he just enjoy a night of sex and not think anything about it? Why’d he have to start attaching feelings and commitment to things like that? When had sex ever meant you must move in tomorrow? What the fuck? It made her angry—angry that she couldn’t just enjoy him without him trying to turn it into something more.

  Sex didn’t have to mean a relationship. It didn’t have to mean moving in together and for better or for worse. In her eyes, those sorts of things only brought more pain. Permanence was a cosmic joke. Nothing ever lasted, not really. You enjoyed what you had for the day and forgot about it the next. That was the best way to live life. Anything else and you were just setting yourself up for failure.

  She slipped into her own stripped-down cabin, eyeing the bare walls and spartan furnishings with relief. No artsy clutter here. One lamp, one table, one chair, one twin-size bed. The necessities. In her kitchen, she had one plate, one set of utensils, and one glass. That was all she needed for a home. Just enough to get by. Grant’s cabin had been clean, but there had been enough artful decor—a rug, a statue, a wall hanging, a shelf of books—to make her anxious, the pit of her stomach clenching at the sight. Things like that could easily turn into mountains of useless junk.

  And she just couldn’t live like that.

  Brenna pulled out a pair of jeans from her small pile of clean laundry and slid them on, adding a pair of ballet flats and then pulling her hair back into a messy topknot with a rubber band. She was presentable now and feeling more like herself after seeing her own refreshingly spare cabin.

  They still had to work together. Sex wouldn’t change that. But she could act like nothing had changed between them, of course. Nothing really had, except that now she knew that he was fun in bed and had a nice, hard stomach that sucked in when she kissed it, and hair that was perfect for knotting her fingers in, and a tongue that knew just how to work her piercing . . .

  She sighed. Why did he have to be so stupid about sex?

  • • •

  Elise rolled over on the leather couch and nuzzled deeper into her pillow, her eyes closed. She was in that lovely period of awake-but-not-ready-to-get-up-just-yet and no one had come to retrieve her, so she might as well sleep a little longer. She tugged the blanket closer and snuggled into the pillow, ready to get back to her dream.

  A shadow fell over her face and, after a moment, it registered in her sleepy mind and she opened her eyes.

  And gasped, sitting upright and scooting backward in surprise, clutching the blanket to her.

  A man—a stranger—loomed over the couch. He was tall, but not ridiculously so. Brawny. Big, muscular shoulders and corded arms bulging with strength. Barrel chest. It was the kind of build a bruiser would have, and it seemed at odds with his face, which was almost model pretty. Angular, with a square, perfect jaw and strong, firm nose, his eyes were vivid blue and surrounded by thick black lashes. His hair was cropped in a close trim against his skull.

  And he was pierced and tattooed everywhere. She saw a piercing through his nose. He had spacer rings in his ears, and a ring on the left side of his lower lip. His arms were covered in sleeves of tattoos. He was dressed in black, too. All of it combined to make him look menacing and unapproachable, if it weren’t for those inhumanly beautiful eyes. He was gorgeous and utterly wicked-looking, and yet so appealing to her.

  He was staring down at her, too, as if fascinated. Really staring, as if he saw her.

  And she wanted to touch her cheek and turn her face away, ashamed. What if he saw . . . it? Her fingers twitched with the need to pull her long hair in front of her face and hide as much of her as she could, but she couldn’t seem to move.

  “Sorry,” he said in a low, gruff voice. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I was looking for the person who placed this ad.” He raised the paper to show her. “I’m here to apply.”

  Elise stared at the paper, her gaze moving back to him. Her mouth worked wordlessly, the only thing coming out of her throat a soft squeak of distress. “I . . .”

  His mouth curved into a smile, and she was stunned by how gorgeous he was. Dark, tanned skin, those piercings, all those tattoos, and those heavenly eyes. He was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. And he was looking at her with interest, his gaze moving over her long, tangled hair and her face.

  As if she were appealing and not gross-looking.

  “I’m Rome,” he told her, his smile widening, and he extended his hand toward her to shake.

  She just stared at him.

  Those blue eyes studied her for a moment longer and then hardened. He pulled his hand back. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m just here to apply for the job.”

  Hurt her? Did he think she was scared? She should say something. Move. Something. Brenna would laugh about how ridiculous it all was, and then chatter at him in a friendly manner. Elise had only known her for a few hours, but she adored her already for being everything that Elise wasn’t. She wasn’t incredibly shy around men, wasn’t terrified of her own shadow. She wasn’t a hideous creature that everyone stared at or mocked. Elise swallowed and tried again. “I . . .”

  But her voice trembled and the words wouldn’t come out. I’m not scared of you, she wanted to say. But it was like her body refused to obey as long as he kept staring at her.

  His mouth thinned into an unhappy line, and she watched that fascinating lip ring move with it.

  The back door banged and Elise heard steps in the kitchen. “Hey, Elise,” Brenna sing-songed out from the other room. “You want breakfast or something? I can whip up a mean Pop-Tart.”

  Elise stared at the man, then back at the kitchen door. She should call out to Brenna. But her throat wasn’t working. It was knotted with tension, the presence of the beautiful stranger making her tongue-tied and stupid. She cleare
d her throat and tried again, her mouth working for a minute. And another garbled squeak came out, and she flushed.

  Dear Lord. He would think she was so incredibly stupid. Her head hung forward and she let the hair cover her face, ashamed.

  The man watched her, fascinated by her movements. She wanted to crawl under the blanket and hide until he left.

  “Elise?” Brenna called, and then stepped through the swinging door that blocked the way to the kitchen. Brenna paused at the sight of Elise and Rome standing over the couch. She blinked at both of them in surprise, her purple bangs flat and hanging over her eyes, dressed in a pair of Grant’s boxers and an old T-shirt. “Oh, hi. I didn’t realize we had company.”

  He gave one last look at Elise and then moved toward Brenna, extending his hand for her to shake. “My name is Rome. I’ve come to apply for the wilderness survival instructor job.”

  “Oh!” Brenna looked pleased. “You’re our first applicant, then. And my. Look at you. Just delicious.” She glanced over at Elise and gave her a knowing wink. “I bet you tried to climb this one like a tree, huh?”

  Oh God. Elise’s cheeks burned with humiliation and she ducked her head, averting her eyes as Rome turned back around to look at her. Truth was, she did kind of want to climb him like a tree, but he’d never look twice at a girl like her. He was gorgeous enough to get anyone.

  Rome cleared his throat. “Here’s my résumé. I’d love to answer any questions you might have.” He sounded amused, and Elise wondered if it was because of Brenna’s vibrant personality or something else. She peeked up at him and was relieved to see his back turned to her. It allowed her to study him without embarrassment, admiring the wide spread of his shoulders and the tattoo across the back of his neck.

  He was like no one she knew. Elise’s circle of friends was very small and conservative. But she found him fascinating. Completely and utterly transfixing. She couldn’t take her eyes off him.

  Brenna moved to the far side of her desk, gesturing for Rome to sit down on the opposite side. He did, and Brenna cleared off a stack of papers, shoving them to one side and then wrinkling her nose at Rome’s résumé. “Blah, blah, blah. I hate these things.” She put it down and smiled at him. “So you know how to survive in the wilderness?”

  Rome nodded. “I’ve taken several classes and read many books on the subject.”

  “Great! Sounds like you’re qualified to me. Can I feel your muscles?”

  “Can you . . . huh?” Rome’s eyebrows furrowed. “My muscles?”

  “Just to check them.”

  “I . . . guess?”

  She leaned forward, and gave one arm a squeeze, then shivered as if with delight. “That’s really firm. Come feel, Elise.”

  “I . . . I’m okay,” Elise breathed, the words so quiet they were barely audible.

  “Party pooper.” Brenna sat back and put her chin on her hands, studying Rome. “So where are you from, Rome?”

  He hesitated a moment before answering. “Nowhere in particular. I tend to wander. I’m not much one for putting down roots.”

  Brenna seemed unbothered by his hesitation. “Me, too. Are you good with people?”

  “I like to think so. Please don’t let my tattoos frighten you off. I’m a very hard worker and a quick learner.”

  She waved a hand idly at him, dismissing his concerns. “You’re talking to a tattooed woman with purple bangs. I’m not holding anything against you.”

  From her viewpoint, Elise could see the edges of his smile, could see his shoulders relax. She felt a pang of jealousy. He liked Brenna and felt comfortable in front of her. She wished it was her.

  Brenna continued, pulling out a Post-it note and a pencil and scribbling something down. “We work odd hours and there’s a lot of overnight campouts. Sometimes the guys go into the woods for almost a week at a time. That going to be a problem for you?”

  “No, ma’am. I don’t have family here. It’s just me, and I don’t mind long hours. I just need work. It’s hard to find a job in a small town when you look like I do.”

  “Well, it’s a good thing you’re qualified, right?”

  He said nothing.

  “I’m afraid we don’t pay much starting out. We’re a newer business and still getting our feet off the ground. In addition to training exercises, we’re opening up a paintball course on a section of the land and you’ll be responsible for helping Pop run that.”

  “Pop?”

  “Pop is Colt’s dad. Colt’s one of the other guys who works here. Pop’s kind of our handyman and fix-it guy. Which reminds me.” She tapped her pencil on the corner of her mouth and leaned over to look at Elise. “Could you do me a favor?”

  Elise sat straighter, clutching the blanket to her pajamas. But she managed a brief nod.

  “Super. Could you go flush a tampon down the toilet?”

  “Um,” Elise said quietly, a bit confused.

  “Pardon me,” Rome said politely. “But I think that will clog the toilet.”

  “I know. That’s my point. I figure we’ll give it an hour and then we’ll call Pop in to take a look at it.”

  Rome stared at Brenna.

  She reached out and patted one of his tattooed hands. “We like for Pop to feel needed. Now, let me tell you about the job salary. Like I said, we’re a startup so don’t think we’ll be showering you with crazy money. We do, however, have cabins on site that all employees live in, so room and board is considered to be part of the salary. It’s a nice perk.”

  As Brenna continued to chatter on, Elise slowly got up and crossed the room, moving down the hall to the bathroom. It was an odd request, but she’d been asked, so she’d do it. She felt a prickle on the back of her neck, as if she were being watched, and wondered if Rome was looking at her. God, she was in her frumpy flannel pajamas and she was sure her hair was a mess.

  Sure enough, when she got to the bathroom, she stifled a gasp of horror at the sight of drool tracks at the corner of her mouth and the rings under her eyes. She hurriedly washed her face and then began to brush her hair quickly, trying to look as presentable as possible. Dear Lord. It was so unfair that such a good-looking man had seen her looking her worst. After she looked decent enough, Elise dug through the boxes under the counter until she found a package of tampons, took one out of its plastic applicator, and flushed it, wincing the entire time at the thought of the damage it’d create.

  Calming herself, she smoothed a hand down the front of her modest flannel pajamas and headed back out to the main room of the lodge.

  Brenna and Rome stood by the door, and she was shaking his hand. He was smiling down at Brenna, and Elise felt another pang of jealousy. She wished he’d looked at her like he did Brenna, that pleased expression on his face, gaze slightly flirty.

  “I guess we’ll see you tomorrow,” Brenna said cheerfully. “You can meet the guys then, and we’ll figure out rooming arrangements.”

  “Thank you,” he said. “I sincerely appreciate the opportunity. You won’t be disappointed.”

  “I know,” Brenna said. “Plus, you’re a total stud with all that inkwork. You’ll look amazing in Elise’s photo shoot.”

  His brow wrinkled a little, the piercing there bobbing. “Photo shoot?”

  “Oh! Yes.” Brenna caught sight of Elise and crossed the room quickly, moving toward her and looping an arm over Elise’s shoulders as if to show her off. “Elise here is in town for the next few weeks and is going to be doing a pictorial spread of our instructors for a women’s magazine. We’re going to doll up the instructors and make them look hot and it should bring in some serious business. Isn’t that right, Elise?”

  That blue-eyed, dark-lashed gaze focused back on Elise again, and she panicked, her heart thumping.

  Behind him, Brenna made a lathering motion, as if dirtying up Rome’s abs.

  Elise fro
ze. She wanted to fall through the floor. Her mouth opened and closed as she tried to think of something clever to say. Something casual and funny. Heck, just something boring.

  Nothing came out. She settled for a quick, jerky nod.

  His mouth curved into a sexy half smile. “I’ll be on my best behavior for the photos, then.” He nodded at the two of them. “It was nice to see you, ladies. Brenna, if you need any further information from me, please give me a call.”

  “Will do. See you soon, Rome.” She wiggled her fingers at him as he closed the front door behind him and Elise stood there like a mute statue. As soon as the door was shut, she turned and gave Elise a speculative look. “That man was sex on a stick, wasn’t he?”

  The breath she’d been holding exploded out of her lungs. “I . . . yes.” Her cheeks went red. “He was very unusual-looking.”

  And already, she was picturing how she’d photograph him, her face hot at the thought.

  FIVE

  Brenna surfed the Web on her computer and yawned, waiting for Grant’s inevitable return to their small office. She was alone, since Pop had arrived a short time ago and volunteered to give Elise a few lessons on driving the four-wheeler ATVs so she could tour the land. Elise hadn’t looked thrilled, but she hadn’t wanted to disappoint Pop, either, and so she’d gone.

  That left Brenna waiting on Grant. For some reason, she was slightly tense. Maybe it was because they’d had sex and their relationship was bound to change in some way. Maybe it was because he’d oh-so-awkwardly tried to get her to move in with him after a single night of sex. She was starting to guess that Grant didn’t do casual anything. The man had a pike up his ass the size of a flagpole.

  And then again, maybe she was nervous because she’d just hired him a new instructor without bothering to check with anyone. But hey, he’d told her to handle the employee thing and she did. And Rome was fit and seemed like a decent guy. She suspected he wasn’t qualified in the slightest but she didn’t care about that. A big tattooed distraction was what this place needed to get the focus off her and Grant, and Rome fit that to a tee.