The Trouble With Tomboys Page 15

  B.J. rolled her eyes. “I never should’ve let that little slime ball touch me.”

  Cooper shrugged. “But you did,” he murmured, “because you felt bad for him.”

  She scowled. “He kept whining about never getting a woman. I just wanted to shut him up.”

  “Uh huh,” Cooper said, knowingly. “So you gave him some sympathy sex. Just like you did Grady.”

  B.J. stopped and opened her mouth as she frowned at Cooper. But no words came out.

  Cooper chuckled. “Don’t you dare tell me you don’t feel bad for him. Hell, everyone in the county feels sorry for Jo Ellen’s brother. He’s been through hell; you only have to look at his face to see that.”

  “You are so wrong, Gerhardt,” she insisted. “I don’t do sympathy sex.”

  Cooper’s return look said otherwise, but he murmured, “If you say so.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Sympathy sex?”

  B.J.’s mouth fell open. She hadn’t been home from Jo Ellen’s but an hour before Grady came knocking. She’d had time to shower and shave her legs and feel refreshed for an evening of lazing around the house and eating a frozen dinner. But Mr. Rawlings had other ideas.

  As soon as she opened the door to him, those two dreaded, accusing words came out. They didn’t exactly register in her brain though. She was too busy staring at him and thinking how absolutely beautiful he was. His father’s visit and sister’s phone call immediately forgotten, all she saw was a man who made her heart pound hard and her breathing turn choppy.

  “You’re into sympathy sex?” he repeated.

  Groaning out a curse, B.J. gritted her teeth. “I’m going to kill Cooper for opening his pie hole.” Then, frowning as Grady pushed past her to enter the living room, she muttered, “Sure. Come on in.”

  “Why Cooper?” he asked, turning to send her a questioning look. “Cooper’s not the one who told me. Jo Ellen is.”

  B.J. gasped. “Oh, my God! Jo Ellen heard us talking?” She lifted her hand to her suddenly aching temple. Damn. There went the only female friend she’d ever had. And she’d been anxious to ask Jo Ellen more pregnancy questions.

  Wincing, she asked, “Is she totally pissed at me?”

  He frowned in confusion. “Why would she be pissed?”

  “Because of what Cooper and I did—” she started to blurt out before she realized Grady obviously hadn’t heard the whole story. “Wait a second,” she said, setting her hands on her hips. “What exactly did she say to you?”

  “She said you only slept with men you felt sorry for. Cooper was not mentioned in that list.” But from the way he closed his eyes and shook his head sadly, he’d already added Gerhardt to the register. “Please, God,” he muttered. “Don’t tell me you slept with my brother-in-law.”

  “No!” she said. “Definitely not.” When he gave her a probing stare, she shifted uncomfortably, crossed her arms over her chest and scowled. “Besides, he wasn’t your brother-in-law at the time.”

  “Oh, my God. You slept with Cooper?”

  “No,” she yelled back. “He stopped before it went too far.”

  Grady paused. “He stopped?” When she gave a miserable nod, he pierced her with a look and set his hands on his hips. “And just how far did you two go before he stopped?”

  B.J. let out a dramatically long sigh and tried to stop blushing. “Not that it’s any of your business because it happened way back when you were still married to Amy, but we barely got our shirts off,” she admitted on a mumble.

  Grady didn’t look happy about thinking of her with a shirtless Cooper. “That’s it?”

  She nodded. “This was right before he and Jo Ellen hooked up. And he was all bummed out because he thought he was never going to see her again. So, he couldn’t go through with it. . .with me.”

  “Ah. So, it was sympathy sex with him too, huh?”

  She glared. “I do not do sympathy sex! I mean, come on. Have you ever seen Cooper Gerhardt shirtless? Pity was the last thing on my mind, I assure you.”

  “Uh huh,” he said, not believing her. “And I’m sure Junkyard Smardo is simply irresistible with his shirt off, isn’t he?”

  B.J. couldn’t help it. She winced. Ick. Ralphie had just been plain scary without his clothes on. She had to be thankful it’d been fairly dark, or his pasty white skin and beer belly would’ve chased her away long before they’d started.

  Clamping her mouth shut, she refused to incriminate herself any further.

  “And what about me?” he asked in a low voice, stepping ominously closer. “What was it about me you were so unable to resist? The way I brooded into my beer throughout supper? Or maybe it was how I ignored you and tried to avoid all conversation.”

  B.J.’s lips parted in surprise.

  He was hurt. She blinked, unable to believe it. He honestly thought she’d only slept with him to ease his miserable life. And, clearly, that didn’t sit well with him. He hadn’t wanted any kind of pity or sympathy. He’d wanted honest-to-goodness lust.

  Not sure how to tell him her pity had gone out the window the second her mouth had touched his, she sighed.

  “You seen a mirror recently, Slim?” she asked. “Because you’re not exactly hurtin’ in the looks department either.”

  Humming in appreciation, she blatantly skimmed her eyes up his trim jeans and tucked-in shirt to his tanned throat and striking face. Oh, yeah, he wasn’t lacking at all.

  “Smell good too,” she added, moving even closer until her nose was only inches from his neck, where she took a big whiff, almost groaning when she inhaled his irresistible male scent.

  The heat coming off his body was intoxicating. B.J. shivered in delight. “I don’t mind the way your hands felt on me either,” she whispered into his ear.

  She lifted her fingers to his hair and was about to tell him she liked the texture when he caught her wrist. She gasped in surprise and met his steely stare.

  “I remember Amy talking about how you used to take in stray dogs and patch them up.” His nostrils flared as he spoke, telling her their proximity affected him even though he held himself back. “I’m not some lame bird with a broken wing, B.J.”

  No, he was a man, a flesh and blood, virile man who wanted something from her besides pity. Well, B.J. decided she could oblige. . .with pleasure.

  “Thank God,” she purred, rubbing against him. “Because right now I want some hard, fast sex, no strings attached, no emotions involved. . .just body to body, mouth to mouth. . .” She murmured the last few words against his lips and didn’t finish the sentiment before his tongue was scraping over her teeth.

  His hands skimmed her body once before he grasped the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head. She stripped off his pants. More articles of clothing followed as they stumbled toward a hallway.

  “Where’s your room?” Grady asked, wrapping his arms around her waist and hauling her off her feet.

  Dazed by the explosion of need roaring through her and the desperation with which she wanted it quenched, she pointed out a door. He pushed it open with his foot and carried her all the way to the bed.

  Sitting her on the mattress, he followed until they were facing each other. As she peeled off his shirt, he focused his attention on her breasts.

  “Are they still tender?”

  She could only nod. He took care removing her bra. When she still winced, he whispered his regret and bent his head to spread a few apologetic kisses over the swollen flesh. B.J. forgave him immediately, especially when he sucked a throbbing bud into his mouth.

  Warm, caressing fingers skimmed down her skin and hovered over her stomach a moment before pressing gently as if greeting the baby inside.

  “Passed out any today?” he asked, glancing up at her with concern.

  B.J. shook her head and lifted her hand to his hair.

  “Vomited?” he wondered.

  Her hand dropped as she sent him an irritated scowl. “No, doctor,” she said impatiently. “I have not passed out or hurled once today. Do you want to take my temperature next?”

  He grinned. “Only if you think you can handle my thermometer?”

  Mouth dropping, B.J. could only gape at him for a moment. Then she sputtered, “Oh, my God. Did I hear wrong, or did the golden boy of Tommy Creek, Texas just make a dirty, suggestive comment?”

  “Golden boy?” he echoed in surprise. Shaking his head, bemused, he leaned over her, causing her to lie back on the bed. “Let me convince you just how wrong you are.”

  Giving her a hard, demanding kiss, he set his hands on her knees and pushed them apart. B.J. was ready. She wanted to feel his thick probing head at her entrance more than she wanted her next breath. And when she did, she breathed out a sigh of relief. Finally. He pushed his way deeper into her.

  But suddenly, he stopped and pulled out. B.J. tightened her thighs around him in protest, but he merely shook his head. “Not yet,” he told her. “I refuse to rush this.”

  “Rushing sounds fine to me,” she argued.

  But he had other ideas.

  Murmuring coaxing words she couldn’t even understand, he slipped his fingers down to toy with her, and his mouth evoked pleasure from her skin. He kissed her throat and breasts, working his way across her stomach. B.J. tensed, expecting and craving the feel of his tongue between her legs. But he didn’t go any further than her belly button.

  After dipping a finger inside to test her moisture, Grady straightened above her, bracing his arms on the mattress at either side of her head. He gazed into her eyes, going frustratingly slow as he started to enter her again as if purposely tormenting her.

  Once he was seated fully, he stroked out once and pushed immediately back in to the hilt. B.J. cursed and dug her nails into his shoulders.

  “You like?” he asked.

  Biting her lip to swallow down a cry of desire, she rasped, “You know I do.”

  He pulled all the way out. “Then marry me,” he whispered against her throat. “And you can have it whenever you want.”

  B.J. jerked in surprise. She couldn’t believe he could think of anything but getting back inside her. It was insulting to realize his mind was still functioning enough to think about his ridiculous plans for marriage. Plus the M-word brought up a picture of his father and all the blackmail and wagering he’d begun mere hours ago. For some reason, that nastiness felt wrong popping into her mind while she was with Grady, poor Grady who was innocent and blissfully unaware of what kind of deals and schemes his family was trying to make on his behalf. No way was she going to let any of that touch him.

  “No,” she heard herself growl.

  Rolling onto her stomach away from him, she crawled across the mattress and grabbed her bra. He came up behind her and caught her wrist, shaking it once until the piece of cloth dropped from her grasp. Then, pinning her hand to the bed, he attempted to push his way inside her from behind.

  “Marry me,” he said again.

  “Damn it, Grady,” she sobbed and tried to crawl off the bed. “Don’t do this right now. I said no strings.”

  “But what if I got depressed in the middle of the night,” he asked, his voice light and teasing, though it carried a hard underlying edge. “I’d need your sympathetic touch.”

  “Will you shut up?” she snapped, trying to close her legs and buck him off. “I didn’t give you a pity fu—”

  He cut her words off with his mouth on the back of her neck and his hand on her breast. She tried to pull away, but he caught her around the waist and entered her completely.

  She gasped and arched her back, forgetting everything but him—moving with him in sync to his rhythm and loving him with everything she had.

  “Later, then,” he growled and grabbed her pelvis, pumping furiously.

  B.J. squirmed and pushed back against him, wanting it harder and faster. Needing more than he could reach from his position, she fumbled a moment and pressed her own fingers against herself, trapping the sensitive bud between her thumb and the base of his pumping penis. In moments, she let out a groan of release, and he followed almost immediately.

  Once the last shudder racked her, she collapsed on her stomach and rested her face in the pillow. He settled his weight on top of her, spooning her into the mattress. She marveled at the feel of his warm flesh matted to hers.

  Unable to keep her deepest, darkest secret inside a moment longer, she whispered, “I can’t believe you’d even suggest I’d ever sleep with you out of pity. I think I wanted to have sex with you since I was twelve and saw you making out with Amy on my living room couch.”

  She closed her eyes and waited for the fallout and accusations. She’d wanted her babysitter’s boyfriend. She’d wanted a married man. She’d wanted Amy’s man. To her, that was grounds for a stoning.

  But Grady merely set his hand on her shoulder and kissed her hair. He didn’t say anything, and she thanked God for that. She wouldn’t have been able to bear it if he had.

  Tears seeped from her lashes because she knew she didn’t deserve his easy forgiveness. Amy had been like a big sister to her, sometimes even a stand-in mother, and B.J. had lusted after her property.

  And now. . .now she was falling for that same woman’s man.

  ****

  B.J. woke in a river of sensuous pleasure. Already boneless from their previous encounter only hours before, she could only lay there as Grady’s rough fingers glided gently down her stomach and across her hip. It wasn’t morning yet, but still late in the night. Grady had yet to go home, and she could only thank her lucky stars as he kissed her shoulder and slowly combed her nether hair with his fingers.

  The lights in the room were still blazing because they had both fallen asleep soon after making love. Yawning, she turned her head and met a pair of vivid blue eyes watching her. Letting out a contented sigh, she arched her hips and felt her thighs spread to allow him more room to explore.

  “Feel nice?” he asked as he nipped her earlobe.

  B.J. couldn’t answer. She could only feel, so she moaned out an affirmative.

  “Then just imagine it,” he said, dotting kisses along her jaw and down her throat. All the while, his fingers played between her thighs, and his bare legs moved restlessly against hers. “If we were married, we could do this all the time. . .anytime.”

  She shook her head from side to side. “Don’t start that again, Grady. Please. We’re not going to. . .”

  She gasped before finishing the words because he pushed his index finger inside her. Then he removed it fully, and she groaned in agony from the loss of his filling presence. Moving on to other areas, he rubbed his slick finger across the nub just above her opening. B.J. hissed out a breath and fisted her hands around a wad of sheets.

  Grady sat up suddenly so he could watch his own handiwork. He stared intently for a second before glancing up.

  “You touched yourself right here earlier,” he said. “When I was inside you.”

  B.J. damn near went cross-eyed as he massaged that very area. “Did I?” she managed to rasp.

  He nodded and licked his lips as he watched his fingers work. “I’d never seen a woman do that before.” Sending her a boyishly fascinated grin, he added, “I liked it.”

  “Is that a hint?” she asked and rolled her eyes. Reaching down, she batted his hand away and took up the task for herself. Her hips arched all the way off the bed when she went straight to the spot wanting the most attention.

  “Holy God,” Grady choked out and grew even more avidly alert. Starting to really get into his voyeuristic venture, he positioned his legs so his feet were stretched out up by her face and propped his elbow on the mattress next to her hip as he leaned in close to see every detail clearly.

  Growing suddenly reticent, B.J. felt her face heat. “Are you just going to watch?”

  He nodded, his eyes glued to the progress of her fingers. “Don’t stop,” he commanded, his voice strained.

  B.J. grinned as he studied her the entire time. He looked so entranced, she got off on the hot gleam in his eyes almost as much as she did from the pressure of her own fingers. When he finally looked up and met her gaze, she climaxed.

  As her heart rate started to settle, he looked ready to pounce, but he merely stared at the notch between her opened thighs.

  “What are you waiting for, Slim?’ she asked, amused. “A handwritten invitation? I don’t get any readier than this.”

  He licked his lips, looking hungry like he wanted to eat her whole. His eyes darted toward hers and then back down. “Can I. . .” He paused as if debating whether or not to ask. Then he cleared his throat and glanced up. “Can I taste you?”

  B.J. honestly hadn’t thought the night could get any more erotic. She’d come hard and long and felt sure she was done till the next full moon. Someone stick a fork in her. But at his seemingly shy question, a pulse of pure desire beat its way up her thighs and fried the nerve endings in every erogenous zone on her body.

  “Well, hell,” she said, opening for him. “If I’d a known you wanted to go down on me, I would’ve let you finish me off.”

  He looked uncertain for a moment, then said, “I probably couldn’t have given you an orgasm anyway. I’ve never. . .you know, done this before.”

  B.J.’s mouth dropped and then she shook her head. “Well, you cheap bastard,” she said and laughed outright. “I bet all the girls you’ve been with don’t miss you at all.”

  He frowned slightly. “Amy would never let me,” he said defensively. “She thought the whole idea was. . .” He shrugged. “Dirty. . .unsanitary. She didn’t think she’d be able to kiss me again if I went anywhere near there.”

  His words fell off as he glanced at that tempting spot on B.J.

  “So, what about the other women?” she couldn’t help but ask.

  He sent her a strange frown. “Other women?”

  The hairs on the back of B.J.’s neck spiked with apprehension. Needing to appease her own unease, she pressed, “You know, the other women you’ve been with.”

  He shook his head. “I started dating Amy when I was fourteen,” he reminded her. “We never once broke up, and. . .well, you already know you’re the only one since she died.”

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