“I want you so bad,” he groaned. Hungry, desperate, his hands moved lower and pulled her dress up to her waist and clutched her spectacular ass.
She hooked her curious fingers into the waistband of his jeans, grazing along his skin in sensual torture, driving him out of his mind as she hinted at more, his cock twitching as her fingers teased inches away.
Driven by her response, he slid his hand along her thigh and down the front of her panties. A rich sigh escaped her lips, and she pressed against his hand, urging him on. Quickly, he found her sensitive core and rubbed and caressed until her breaths came faster and higher and she came against his hand with a honeyed moan.
Dammit, as the orgasm rocked through her, he remembered exactly who she was. Who he was. What they were to each other.
He pressed his forehead against hers. “Claire, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m not, we can’t—”
Furious with himself for behaving like his asshole of a brother, he stormed out of the room without a backward glance.
12
P-E-N-A-L-T-Y-B-O-X
Claire awoke to the bright, perky sunshine infiltrating her bedroom. She rolled to her side and yanked the pillow over her head. She’d acted like a complete hussy.
Grady was a decent guy and must have been horrified by her behavior. Walking in with that marketing-schmoozer outfit, taunting him like that. If only she’d indulged in those drinks that the vodka guy had offered, then she’d have an excuse for her behavior. Instead, she couldn’t blame anything but lust. He’d been so disgusted, he’d left her standing there, completely aroused and then totally cold and alone.
Perhaps moving to Foothills wasn’t such a good idea. There were plenty of small towns like this. Probably. It would be hard enough seeing Grady over the next few days. Maybe she could avoid him at least until the gala, if she played her cards right.
There was that stupid ache in her chest again. She wasn’t foolish enough to ignore it, but what the hell? It had been only a few days since she’d first laid eyes on Grady. Things didn’t move this quickly. Emotions shouldn’t build this easily.
That afternoon skating had been the best date she’d ever been on. She’d never laughed so hard, nor had anyone laugh so hard with her. Ryder would have thought she was nuts, sitting on the ice and not feeling at all embarrassed by her own ineptitude.
And she’d completely blown it. Over the past few years, she’d worked so hard in school that her social life was nil. No friends to speak of. Ryder was the closest thing she had to a confidante; an embarrassing statement as to her current situation. She wanted to call her parents or her brothers more than anything, but she really didn’t want to tell any of them how she’d acted like such a slut and driven away Grady.
A knock at the door interrupted her pity party. Ryder poked his head in. “Babe, your interview is in two hours. I wrote down the address so you can take the rental and, if you want to explore town after, go for it. Your resumé is on the table out here.”
Couldn’t he call her by her actual name? She was a grown woman. Albeit a stupid, slutty one, apparently.
He looked down at her sprawled across the bed, only her head poking out from under the covers at the side of the bed. “You ok?”
“I’m fine.” She wiped away the stupid tear that threatened to fall from her brine-blurred eyes.
He lowered to the edge of the bed and patted her foot through the blankets. “Okay. If don’t you want to talk about it, I get it. But I’d like to stay friends.” He paused, then tried again. “Did something happen last night? You were in a great mood when I went to bed.”
