“Later,” I say.
He laughs and I grin at the sound.
“It’s already later,” he says, pointing at the clock. “Like, really fucking later.”
I look at the clock face. It’s half in darkness, so I can’t quite make out the hands. I shrug. I’ll take Grant’s word for it that’s it’s late. It does feel like I’ve been sitting here with Grant for quite some time now. Just how much time has passed? Is Allison waiting to hear from me?
“Where’s Owen?” Grant asks suddenly.
I try to remember if I’ve already told him. I honestly don’t know.
“Hazel has him,” I tell him. “I needed a break. Except, then I decided to run here, so that wasn’t much of a break.”
“This is a break,” Grant says, gesturing to his beer. “Are you warm enough?”
“This blanket is warm,” I tell him.
Didn’t I already say that? I rub my forehead. Maybe I shouldn’t have had so much to drink. Still, it’s worth it for the content, relaxed feeling that’s currently taking over me.
“Maybe we can put a movie on?” Grant suggests.
A movie means staying later. Well, I have no way to get home, anyway, and it isn’t like Owen will be waiting for me there.
“Sounds good,” I say.
Grant reaches over to grab the remote, scooting closer to do so. He doesn’t move back as he turns the television on, and I feel the warmth of his body through the thick blanket. Suddenly, a movie is the last thing on my mind.
No, the rational part of me tries to say sternly. Haven’t I already been down this path more than once? It never ends well. Grant has already told me he doesn’t want a physical or emotional relationship with me. We’re going to try to be friends. I need to be satisfied with that.
I try to shift away. But the blanket falls off my knee and Grant’s hand brushes against my bare skin at that moment as he lowers the remote. It sends a jolt through my body and I gasp. Grant’s entire body locks up.
“No,” I say out loud. “I’m not being stupid again.”
I look up at Grant. He’s staring at me. There’s desire in his eyes, and it sends a flush of heat straight through me. His hands are clenched on his own knees. He wants me, but he doesn’t want to make the first move.
“We can’t be stupid,” I remind him.
“Yeah,” he says.
He turns away. His clothed leg brushes against my bare one.
I don’t know, exactly, who moved first. I think it might have been me. I’m sitting next to Grant one second, and then, before either of us know what’s happening, I’m pushing him back and swinging a leg over his lap so I can straddle him. I half expect to be pushed away, but his hands land on my hips and dig into the skin, his actions keeping me in place.
Shit, the feeling of his hands, the way he’s touching me, the sound of his panting breaths, it’s all almost too much all of a sudden. My mind floods me with images, of sucking Grant’s penis into my mouth, of thrusting against him frantically as I ride him, of crashing into the bar’s break room and having sex right there on the couch. Having sex with him twice hasn’t cured me of this obsession with his touch. It’s just made me more addicted.
“Fuck, you’re so hot,” Grant says, his voice ragged.
God, we’re definitely going to regret this in the morning. I’m going to regret jumping the poor man once more. Grant is going to regret wanting me. We’re both going to just be one big ball of regret, though at least we’ll be together in it, this time.
Or maybe we can stop this now, before we can get too far. I open my mouth.
“I want you so bad,” I tell him. “Shit, Grant, fuck me now. I want to feel you all over.”
No, damn it, that’s not what was I meant to say. I need to get off Grant’s lap. I need to do the smart thing and get my clothes and get out of here before this goes any further.
I wriggle slightly on Grant’s lap. He groans deeply beneath me, his head falling backward as I brush against the erection straining against his pants. I suddenly realize that the blanket is starting to fall, and I clutch at the corners as it slides down and reveals my shoulders. I’m completely bare underneath, because even my underwear had been soaked through.
Then Grant’s hand comes up and runs over the smooth skin of my shoulder, his eyes dark with desire.