“This is the morning I have to take my mom to her doctor’s appointment,” she said, capping the tube.
“Mmm, that’s right,” Grant said, something that sounded like disappointment in his tone. He was estranged from his parents and had been for way longer than she’d known him, though he wouldn’t talk about why so she didn’t know what’d happened. But it meant he didn’t really get her relationship with her mother. Mostly, he tolerated it. He settled his chin on her shoulder, and it was possible that the phrase tall, dark, and handsome had been coined just for him. Even just out of bed he was undeniably attractive, with his square jaw, his classical profile, his calculating brown eyes, and his stylishly cut short brown hair. “You came to bed too late.”
“I know,” she said, feeling the sleepy weight of having gone to sleep after two in the morning. “I’m sorry. I was working on my project. A rough draft is due two weeks after the wedding, so I’m trying to get ahead so most of it is done beforehand.”
His hands roamed up to palm her breasts through her shirt. Pressing a kiss against the side of her throat, he said, “I need you.”
Alexa watched him in the mirror, kissing her, grabbing her, rubbing against her. In another moment, it might’ve been sexy, but she didn’t have time to have sex, which he would know if he remembered any of the three times she’d told him that she’d be late to work on Friday morning because of her mother’s appointment. And now he was putting her in the position of turning him down, which he wouldn’t like. Which he never liked.
She leaned into his kiss and put on a smile. “I would like nothing more than to be with you, but I’ll be late.”
He hugged her harder, grinding himself into her rear, and sucked her earlobe into his mouth. “We’ll be quick.” His hands slid down to her skirt and grasped it. Slowly, he worked it up.
“Grant,” she said, her tone full of regret, a niggle of dread stirring in her belly.
He rucked her skirt up around her waist. Pushed her panties down. Slipped his fingers between her thighs.
“Honey, this feels good, but I’m gonna be late,” she said, gently grasping his wrist, trying to still his movements.
“You’ve got time,” he said, twisting his wrist out of her hold. “Her appointment isn’t for an hour and a half.”
So he did remember. “I know, but you know how my mother is.” Her mother had anxiety about all kinds of things, including leaving the house and going to the doctor, which meant she was going to need lots of coaxing and reassuring just to get her out the door. There was no such thing as rushing Alexa’s mother to do anything.
He pressed his fingers more firmly against her core, firm enough that the sensation went from arousing to uncomfortable. “Grant—”
“Fine,” he said, stepping away so abruptly that Alexa stumbled back a step. Without another word, he opened the glass shower door and turned on the water.
Something that felt inexplicably like humiliation rolled through her as she awkwardly pulled her panties into place and smoothed down her skirt. Quickly, she bagged up the last of her makeup, knowing he didn’t like anything out of place. “I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad. It’s just my schedule . . .”
“I know,” he said, not sounding particularly convinced. Or appeased.
She walked to him and kissed his bare shoulder, torn between feeling guilty for upsetting him and feeling upset for having to apologize. “I promise to make it up to you tonight,” she said, making her words upbeat and playful. Flirtatious. Sometimes stroking his ego was enough to make his mood rebound and smooth things over.
He looked at her, one eyebrow arched, his expression fierce, masculine, intense. “Yeah?”
She smiled, wanting so much to make him happy again, needing so much to be enough for him. Just as she was. “Yeah. Okay?”
For a long moment, he just stared at her. Then, in one quick motion, he turned, grasped the back of her neck, and hauled her into him. The kiss was aggressive, claiming, possessive. His hold was tight, his mouth hard, his tongue penetrating. Grant liked to be rough, and she usually found pleasure in it, too. Though lately, that’s all their lovemaking ever was—rough, aggressive, quick. The slow, exploring, sensual sex they’d sometimes had earlier in their relationship had largely disappeared from his repertoire. Not that she’d complained. Because she couldn’t begin to imagine how she’d ask for something different in bed. There was almost no chance he’d take it as anything but criticism.
Alexa barely had time to react to it before Grant released her again. “You better.” The corners of his mouth tilted upward, like he was teasing, but his eyes were dead serious.
She ignored his eyes and kept up with the flirtation. “You know I will.”
He grinned, and it was the smile that had helped win her over to him years before, when he’d pursued her maybe harder than any man ever had. The more she’d held out—worrying over the fact that he owned the company she worked for, then as an administrative assistant for a sales manager several levels down the corporate chain—the more Grant seemed to want her. “I’ll look forward to that, Alexa.” He dropped his boxers and stepped into the shower, his gaze latched onto her.
“Good,” she said, giving him a smile and a sultry look. Playfully, she blew him a kiss. And then she was out of the bathroom and closing the door between them.
And feeling the oddest sensation of . . . relief.
Ugh. It was just the stress of dealing with her mother and knowing it wasn’t going to be easy, on top of being late to work and knowing how that was going to make the rest of her day a scramble to catch up. Nothing more. Besides, no one liked starting out their day in a tiff with their partner. She was just relieved that things seemed okay between them now.
In the foyer mirror, she fixed her lipstick, and then she grabbed her purse and made her way to the garage. The Acura SUV she drove was another of her many gifts from Grant. She’d never minded the old Toyota sedan she’d driven for years—in fact, she’d been proud of the fact that she’d bought it and paid it off entirely with her own money. But a year ago, she’d finally given into Grant’s insistence that she needed something safer and nicer and accepted his gift of a car.
As she backed out of the driveway, her phone dinged an incoming message. She braked and grabbed the cell, then brought the screen to life.
MAVERICK: Can’t stop thinking of you, Al. Want you to be okay.
On a gasp, she did a scan of the neighborhood around her, but didn’t see Maverick’s motorcycle or the old pickup he had. Or anything else that looked out of place in the upscale Slater Estates.