Home > The Expert's Guide to Driving a Man Wild (Bluebonnet #3)(41)

The Expert's Guide to Driving a Man Wild (Bluebonnet #3)(41)
Author: Jessica Clare

“You seem to be thriving on it, too.”

Maybe he was. But now he was curious if there was something ugly about Brenna that he needed to know about before losing his heart to her entirely. Because the sex was incredible. When they were together? It felt right. She was smart and funny and quirky, and she constantly kept him guessing. She never bored him. She was sexy and wild in bed.

And every time he saw her, he could see himself with her for the long term.

Just as soon as he found out what her secrets were. The next time he got into a relationship? He didn’t want any surprises.

• • •

The next day, despite his confident words to his sister, Grant found himself wondering about Brenna.

Not that he thought she was after him for his money. She’d never mentioned it and money seemed to be the last thing on her mind. But she had this weird hang-up about stealing things. He’d woken up that morning after a night of wild lovemaking to find out she’d borrowed another T-shirt from him and was drinking out of his favorite coffee mug when he’d gone into the main lodge.

He’d almost think she was a klepto, except she never seemed to notice when he took things back. That, and she didn’t seem to own anything of her own. Was that normal kleptomaniac behavior?

So he’d decided to test a few theories. She liked his coffee mug so much? He’d buy her one. He’d driven his family into Houston that day to meet up with friends, and had gone shopping. By the end of the day, he had a personalized purple mug with her name on it, a multi-colored bead bracelet that had been so garishly ugly that he knew she’d like it, and a few pairs of sexy panties that would cling to her cute little ass and drive him crazy.

When he’d driven back to Bluebonnet that night, she’d been the only one still working in the office, a pencil stuck through her messy bun of hair and pretending to type, even though he knew she was just watching videos on YouTube. He’d given her the bags of presents and watched her reaction.

He was pretty sure most women liked presents. His first wife, Heather, had loved to get gifts. She’d laughingly insisted on being “surprised” with presents for every holiday she could think of, and back then, he was wild enough about her to do so, not caring about how much money it cost them. Money had never mattered to him.

But Brenna? She’d acted like he’d dropped a snake on her desk. She recoiled visibly, then looked up at him in horror. “What’s this?”

“A couple of presents,” he’d told her.

She reached for the bag with a look of revulsion on her face. She’d softened for a moment at the mug and the bracelet, as if she’d been somehow pleased—despite herself—in the gifts. The lingerie had brought a knowing smirk to her face. “Presents for me, huh?”

“Mostly for you.”

And then she’d dragged him back to his cabin and showed him her thanks—predominantly by straddling him and riding him like a cowgirl for most of the night. She’d said such filthy, wild things that he was pretty sure he’d been blushing at some point . . . and had never been more aroused. She’d seemed happy about the gifts.

But the next day? He’d found Colt drinking coffee out of the purple Brenna mug and Miranda had shown up wearing that godawful ugly bracelet.

He’d asked about the mug. Turned out that Colt had rescued it just as Brenna was about to throw it away. The bracelet? Miranda said Brenna had seen her this morning and offered it to her first thing, because she was “going to toss it out.”

There was no sign of the panties he’d bought her. She’d gone commando that day, too.

Which was downright weird.

So he’d gone through the duffel bag of clothing she’d brought with her . . . and had been surprised.

One bra.

One pair of panties.

One pair of jeans.

One sweater.

One T-shirt.

One towel.

That was it. Necessities, but no more than that.

And Grant was pretty much flummoxed. Brenna wore different bizarre outfits every time he saw her. Then again, most of them did seem to be from castoffs and piecemeal junk that most people would only wear on laundry day.

He wondered how much of it was borrowed. And then he wondered where the rest of Brenna’s stuff was. Something about all of this just wasn’t right. What kind of person went around with no possessions, no clothing, and gave away her home?

• • •

That night, when she came to bed, yawning and stripping her clothes off, he didn’t pull her to him and begin to kiss her. Instead, he watched her, waiting for her to say something. But when her hands went to the waistband of her pants and she pushed them down, he wasn’t surprised to see that she was na**d underneath.

And instead of turning him on, it infuriated him. “Not wearing the panties I got you?”

She snorted, as if the idea was ridiculous. “I can pick out my own clothes, thank you very much.”

“So you’d rather go around with no panties than wear something I bought you?”

“You called it. I didn’t ask you to buy me anything.” She kept her voice a silky, playful purr and moved forward to trace a finger along his jaw. “Besides, don’t you prefer me all na**d and quivering?”

Grant sighed. “Fine. I give up. Just give them back to me and I’ll take them back to the store.”

That made her pause. “Well, now, I can’t really do that.”

“You wore them?”

“Not exactly. I threw them away.”

He grabbed her hand before she could run her thumb along his lower lip, seemingly unconcerned that she’d just tossed aside his gifts. “You what?”

“Threw them out? I didn’t want them.”

He eyed her suspiciously. “I saw Miranda wearing the bracelet I gave you.”

“Didn’t want that, either.” But she had a wistful look in her eyes for a flash, as if she regretted it.

And now he really, really didn’t understand her.

“What the f**k, Brenna?” He pushed off the edge of the bed, ha**ng s*x the last thing on his mind at the moment. “Are you doing this just to mess with my head? Is this your newest game?”

She gave him a puzzled look, as if she couldn’t figure out why he was angry. “Doing what?”

“Throwing away the things I give you. Acting like none of this matters.”

Brenna’s eyes narrowed and she put her hands on her hips, unconcerned that she stood in front of him in her bra and nothing else. “What exactly about this ‘matters’, Grant? I volunteered to be your pretend girlfriend to get your parents off your back, because I didn’t like how they were harassing you. We just happen to be having some really great sex on the side. I didn’t ask you to buy me gifts, and I’m not moving in with you. I thought I’d made that pretty clear. If you want to have just sex, I’m fine with that. What I’m not fine with is all this weird possessive crap you’re pulling.”

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