The Trouble With Attraction Page 4
* * *
Gracie stomped back towards The Local Bean’s booth, cursing under her breath. How could she have kissed him back like that? After everything that had gone on between them; the fighting, the anger and insults. She had vowed to stay away from him after last night, but then he’d shown up, demanding a kiss…
And completely rocked her world.
Something had to be done. Whatever this attraction was, she needed to exorcise it. If that meant jumping Eric Henderson’s bones once and for all, then she was just going to have to go or it.
Although, that might take a bit of liquid courage first.
Chapter Seven
Several Weeks Later
The night of Ryan’s bachelorette party was wild, with the shots starting early. Operation get Chase to Buck’s Shot Bar was already in motion, as Katie had called Chase about ten minutes ago.
“Go dance on the bar,” Gracie said.
Katie blinked at her. “What?”
“If you’re up on that bar in that skirt when Chase shows up, he is going to lose his shit in the best way possible. He’ll probably carry you out of here like a caveman to make sweet, passionate love to you.”
“She’s probably not wrong,” Gemma agreed.
Gracie held up her shot and tossed it back. As the air hissed out between her teeth, she set the glass down on the table. “Damn straight.”
Katie hesitated, and then finally downed her shot. “What the hell.”
The table cheered as she made her way to the front of Bucks and climbed up onto the bar. They whistled and squealed, drawing the attention of several men who gathered under Katie to watch.
The trap was set.
When Chase walked in, his eyes blazed. Gracie would have swooned if a man had come at her looking like that. He said something to Eric, who pointed at them, and Chase gave them a dangerous scowl.
“Uh oh, I think we’re in trouble,” Ryan said.
“No one gives a shit,” said Stephanie Brown.
Although they couldn’t really hear the exchange over the music and the crowd, when Chase finally kissed Katie, Gracie experienced a twinge of jealousy. It wasn’t as though men were making sweeping declarations for her, or carrying her out of bars for hot naked awesome time.
Like Chase was currently doing with Katie.
As the two disappeared, Gracie picked up another shot. “Mission accomplished. Now, let’s get drunk.”
There were lots of whoos surrounding her, but for some reason, Gracie found herself stone cold sober despite the four shots she’d already had. All the excitement and elation had drained out of her watching Katie and Chase reconcile.
She wanted to find that. She wanted a boyfriend, not just a date or a hook up. Yet she just couldn’t seem to find the right fit. It was beyond frustrating and she was over searching high and low for Mr. Right.
Gracie’s gaze flicked to Eric, who was too busy serving drinks to notice her stare. Maybe she could get the bartender out of her system and fill a void at the same time. Take a break from the constant dating and have a little enemies with benefits thing.
Then, maybe, her luck would start to change.
* * *
Eric had been keeping an eye on Gracie most of the night and it was official. She was smashed. Things had slowed down by midnight, and most of the rest of the bachelorette party had already gotten rides home, except Gracie. She was too busy dancing to notice she’d captivated the rest of the patron’s attention.
Eric made his way over to her, and when she noticed him, she laughed. “Come to dance?”
“No, Gracie, I think I should give you a ride home.”
“Oh, yeah? You’re gonna take care of me, Erickson?”
Her voice was like a velvet purr and even though he knew she had zero interest in him, his dick thought she was teasing him.
“Yeah, okay, come on dancing queen.” He wrapped his arm around her waist, and as he led her out the door, he nodded to Grant. “You got the close?”
“Yeah, we’re good,” his brother said.
Gracie’s feet were practically dragging the ground. “Can’t you walk?”
“Doesn’t look like it. You might have to carry me.”
Eric almost rolled his eyes, but lifted her up with a grunt.
“What was that noise?” she asked.
“What?”
“You acted like I was so heavy.”
“It’s not like you’re a feather, Gracie Lou.”
“I’m not worth some back-breaking grunt either.”
Eric chuckled, and looked down into her disgruntled face. “Aw, did I hurt your feelings, princess?”
Her green eyes narrowed in the parking lot light. “I really don’t like you.”
Eric shrugged. He’d already gotten that memo, over and over again. When they reached his ‘67 black Chevy Impala, Eric set her on her feet to get the door. “You not liking me isn’t going to break my heart, baby.”
She climbed in without saying anything else, which he figured meant she was too drunk to find an insult in the fog.
He shut the door and strode around the front of the car to the drive side. The two of them had hardly spoken since their kiss on the fourth, and yet here they were, still needling and torturing each other.
He didn’t say much on the drive to her place. But when he finally pulled into her drive, she surprised the hell out of him.
“Will you help me inside?”
He glanced over at her, that little halter she was wearing showing off too damn much skin.
“I think you can probably get in on your own.”
She pushed out her bottom lip as a single strand of blonde hair fell over her right eye. “Please?”
Heaven help him, what was it about this girl? She could completely disarm him and make every rational thought fly out of his head with just a look.
He was weak.
Grumbling as he stomped over to the other side, he opened her door without a word and waited for her to get out.
“Not going to carry me inside?” she asked.
“You’re good to walk.”
And boy did she, rolling those hips in front of him like slow motion torture. He was pretty sure she was exaggerating it for his benefit but why?
She opened her door and just as he was going to step back and leave, she fell against him. “Oh, I just got so dizzy.”
Beyond suspicious now, he knew she was working him, but for what purpose?
He lifted her up and carried her inside, through the darkened living room. “Where am I taking you?”
“First door on the right.”
He opened the door and flipped on the light, staring around the pink and black room in horror.
“Christ, Gracie, how old are you? It looks like a teenaged girl threw up in here.”
“Shut up, there is nothing wrong with pink.”
Glancing around at the pink knobs on the white dresser, the pink canopy on the bed and the pink rug on the floor, Eric shook his head. “There is with this much pink.”
He dropped her on the bed, and picked up a pink fuzzy pillow from her white rocking chair. “This looks like you killed something, skinned it and stuffed it.”
“It’s called a pillow, genius.” And to his complete shock, she reached for the bottom of that little halter top and pulled it over her head, revealing her pert, naked breasts.
Fuck, she hadn’t been wearing a bra all night.
As his cock hardened, pressing against the front of his pants like a battering ram, she pointed at him.
“Now drop it, and take off your pants.”
Chapter Eight
Gracie’s heart slammed against her chest as she sat there topless on her canopy bed, waiting for Eric to say something. His big hands seemed to be choking the life out of her fuzzy pillow, his eyes trained on her breasts.
“Come on, Eric, I don’t have all night.”
Suddenly, his dark eyebrows snapped down over his dark eyes. “What the hell
is this?”
“Wha…what?”
“What are you doing, Gracie? You’re not that drunk.”
Heat burned over her neck and cheeks. “Haven’t you ever seen a woman throw herself at you?”
“Yeah, but that’s not what’s happening here. So let’s have it.”
“What do you mean that’s not what’s happening here? I just stripped off my clothes and asked you to do the same. What does that sound like to you?”
“Seems like you’re still playing games with me.”
Gracie’s skin pricked with anger and humiliation. This whole situation had played out differently in her mind. As she grabbed her top and jerked it back on, she snapped, “Get out.”
Eric dropped the pillow and grabbed her arm, pulling her off the bed and against his body. His hand tangled in her hair and when he gave it a gentle tug, it brought her gaze up to meet his.
“Stop ordering me around like one of your boys. You can’t control me.”
His mouth dropped over hers and flames licked down her throat and low into her belly. Those big hands came around and grabbed her ass, bringing her feet of the ground as he rubbed her against his hard on. She hung onto his shoulders and opened her legs, wrapping them around his waist with a groan.
This is what she’d been aiming for. A way to slake this craving she had for him, to stop wondering if he was amazing in bed, if angry sex would be better than every other kind.
He walked her back to the bed and fell over with her, lowering her slowly. His tongue twisted with hers as his hand came up and covered her breast. She groaned into his mouth as he kneaded her flesh, the cotton of her shirt rubbing her nipple into a hard, tingling peak.
Eric pulled up and she whimpered, silently begging him not to stop. Instead, he pulled his black t-shirt over his head and threw it across her floor.
Yes, God, please, more of that.
His chest and shoulders were sculpted muscle with a tribal tat that spread over his right pec onto his arm. Dark hair sprang from his chest, thinning into a tiny trail that disappeared below his belt.
He roughly pulled her top back off and before she could catch her breath, his head had dipped and his mouth was sucking hard on her nipple, bringing her back off the bed with a cry. Lights exploded behind her closed eyes as he teased and touched her chest.
When his fingers went to the snap of her jeans, she was more than happy to lift her hips and help him slide the tight denim down her legs. She wanted to get this show on the road and his dick deep inside her.
His mouth left her breasts and trailed down her stomach, sucking here, biting there. He finally buried his mouth between her legs, his mouth pressing through her cotton panties, making her wet. She wanted him to push aside that last little barrier and feel his mouth on her sensitive skin, but he was taking forever.
“God, Eric, will you just—oh, fuck!”
He’d ripped her panties off in one clasp of his fist, the sharp snap of breaking fabric against her flesh before his mouth covered her slit and his tongue was pressing between, licking and flicking against the sensitive nerves of her clit. She wasn’t sure what to do with her hands as he drove her wild; clutch the comforter, tangle in her hair, slide and squeeze over her breasts. She was panting in delirious pleasure as he continued going down on her.
The man’s tongue is amazing!
As it moved like a whirlwind against her little bud, her legs started trembling and the muscles between her legs spasmed. Crying out loudly, she came hard, roaring. Her heels hit the mattress as she climbed higher and higher, his tongue never stopping, his mouth relentless in its mission to give her the best orgasm she’d ever had.
When she finally came down, her body a limp noodle of afterglow, she hummed.
Until she realized Eric’s warmth was gone and he was standing alongside the bed, putting his shirt back on.
“Where are you going?”
He pulled it into place, his dark gaze cutting through her like an iron, branding her memory.
“I told you. You can’t control me, Gracie Lou. I’m not your consolation prize to make yourself feel better or to bide your time until the right guy comes around.”
“I offered you sex with no strings attached. I didn’t call you a prize or say anything about there being a repeat event. This is a one-time only deal to get it out of our system.”
He kneeled one leg on the bed beside her, leaning over her as he cupped the back of her head.
“I don’t want you out of my system and I’m not going to be one of your Joes that you date, fuck, and forget. I’m going to make you crave me, to think about me and this until you want me so bad you’re begging me for it.”
The gentle kiss he placed on her forehead belied his harsh words. He was already out of her room before she collected herself to shout, “I’ll beg you when hell freezes over! You just lost your one shot, asshole!”
Chapter Nine
Gracie was still stewing about Eric’s arrogant assumption that he was God’s gift to women the next weekend. Gemma was out of town at a book conference in Vegas and the last thing she wanted to do was head to Buck’s alone.
The bell above The Local Bean’s front door jingled and in walked Officer Quinn Morgan.
Gracie perked up a bit. Quinn was new to Rock Canyon, a big city cop in a small pond, and she liked the way he looked in that dark blue uniform. His blue eyes were pale, and his black hair in a short, military style, drawing attention to his resemblance to Matt Bomer.
“Well, hey there, Quinn. Something I can get for you?” She leaned a bit on the counter, glad she’d worn her push up bra under her simple v-neck t-shirt.
Quinn flashed that beaming white smile of his. “Large coffee with room, please.”
“Light, medium, or dark?”
“Medium.”
“Hmmm, can’t handle the hard stuff, huh?” she teased, grabbing a large cup.
“Not this late in the day.”
She set his coffee on the counter, and gave him her signature through the lashes look. “And when does your day officially end, Officer Morgan?”
“Six. Why, you got something on your mind?”
“I was thinking if you aren’t busy we could do a little dinner and dancing.”
Quinn handed her a ten dollar bill with a smile. “Sounds good, but I’m not much of a dancer.”
Gracie gave him his change with a wink. “Oh, don’t worry, I’ll show you all the steps I like.”
* * *
That night, Eric was filling up a pitcher of beer for Annabelle Dentin, and thinking seriously about asking her out. Annabelle was curvy, sexy, and liked classic cars as much as he did. She also didn’t make him lose his shit at the slightest provocation. He liked that in a woman.
The place had been filling up steadily, getting ready for the live band to take the stage. Buck’s had offered live music since it had first opened and a lot of musicians had gotten their start on those wooden planks.
Eric glanced toward the door and back to the beer he was pouring…only to do a double take. Gracie had just walked through the door with some pretty boy, wearing a slinky buckskin dress that left most of her back and shoulders bare. The guy was guiding her through the crowd with his hand on her skin, and the blood started drumming in Eric’s ears.
Damn her. Couldn’t she take her dates somewhere else? He was getting damn tired of her flaunting dudes in his face.
“Juan, I’m going to go take their order.”
Juan glanced at him in surprise, probably because Eric never left the bar to take an order. Eric set Annabelle’s pitcher on the counter and took her five absently as he went around the edge of the bar. Putting on his best neutral face, he stopped next to their table with a pad and pen.
“Good evening, folks. What can I get you to drink?”
Gracie shot him a suspicious look, but her date just smiled. “Hey man, I’ll take a Bud. What do you want?”
“I’ll have a Lemon Drop,” she said.
“Thanks, Eric, but I’m an adult and can decide what I want to drink.”
“Just saying, this guy seems like a good one, and you don’t want to scare him off by coming on too strong.”
“Fuck you,” Gracie said.
Pretty boy’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. “Do you want to go somewhere else?”
“Now, now, I didn’t mean any offense. I’ll go get those drinks for you.”
Eric walked away, whistling under his breath. If Gracie thought showing off her latest conquest was going to get him down, she had another think coming.
* * *
Gracie’s hackles rose as the son of a bitch walked away with a swagger in his step.
“Is he an ex of yours or something?” Quinn asked.
“God, not even. I loathe the bastard.”
“Well, then, maybe we should take off and go somewhere else. No point in having such a great date ruined, right?”
The date had been fun. She had only been looking for a distraction with Quinn, but he was actually charming, and a decent conversationalist. She’d almost debated on skipping Bucks and going somewhere closer to Twin, but The Long Necks were playing tonight and she actually liked that band.
“No, it’s fine, Eric just likes to get on my nerves. We’re good. You were telling me about why you moved here?”
As Quinn started talking again, Gracie could feel her attention shifting…to Eric behind the bar, pulling on the tap, his bare forearm flexing with the motion. She really needed to get over her fascination with him, especially since he thought he had the upper hand with her. Which he so did not. She was the puppeteer pulling his strings. Putting him exactly where she wanted him.
“What about you? Is Rock Canyon where you want to be for the rest of your life?” Quinn asked.
Gracie blinked at him, and stumbled over her reply. “Well, I…yes, I guess so. I’ve never thought about living anywhere else.”
“Here you go. You drinks. Now Gracie, I figured you didn’t want to scare the guy off so I made yours on the weak side—”