He tore at the waistband of his pants, suddenly desperate to free his erection. Jerking himself off after he’d had a sexy, willing woman in his lap seemed like a fitting punishment. He shoved his pants down, then his boxers, and his c**k sprung free. He grasped it in his hand, and then paused.
He lifted his fingers to his face and dragged them across his lips. Brenna’s salty, delicious taste filled his mouth and nostrils, and he groaned hard, stroking his cock. Within three beats, he cl**axed, cum splattering on the hardwood floors.
Fuck this whole “sex without entanglements” thing. Why was it when he tried to give a woman issue-free sex, he ended up feeling more mixed up than before?
• • •
Brenna wandered into the Bluebonnet library a short time later, pushing her wet hair out of her eyes and shivering, her shirt plastered to her skin.
“Oh my God,” Miranda said, hurrying out from behind the checkout counter. “Brenna! Are you okay?”
“Just fine,” Brenna said, but there was a glum note in her voice. “It’s raining outside. Kinda cold.”
“Well, you’re dripping water!” Miranda exclaimed. She fluttered closer, wearing a tight pencil skirt and a filmy white blouse and that damned purple bracelet. “Where’s your jacket?”
“I don’t have one.”
Miranda gave her an odd look, and then gestured at her. “Wait right there and don’t drip on any periodicals.” She disappeared into her office and then returned a moment later with a fluffy gray cable-knit cardigan. “Here. I keep this at work in case the air-conditioning’s too cold, but you need it more than I do.”
“Thanks.” Brenna took it and dragged her arms through the sweater and wrapped it tight around her. “I think I’m having a bad day.” And to her horror, tears began to streak down her face again.
“Oh, oh no. Please don’t cry. I’m not good at comforting.” Miranda wrung her hands. “Do you want me to call Beth Ann? She’s better at this sort of thing than I am.”
“No, I’m fine.” Brenna sniffed loudly. “Honest.”
Miranda’s big brown eyes stared at her, frozen. Then, she glanced around the small, narrow library and then gestured at Brenna. “No one’s here. Come in my office and we can talk. I’ll make you a hot tea.”
Brenna shuffled behind Miranda, her canvas shoes squishing and wet. She sank down into the chair across from Miranda’s desk, which was stacked high with books. Miranda turned and pushed a coffee mug under the percolator and hit a few buttons. A long moment passed and neither woman said anything, the only sound that of brewing tea.
“So,” Miranda said, finally handing her the steaming mug. “You want to talk about it?”
Brenna wrapped her hands around the cup and sighed. Part of her didn’t want to talk about it, and part of her wanted to weep out her troubles. “Have you ever had a friends-with-benefits scenario?”
“Friends with benefits?” Her eyes widened and Miranda twisted the pretty purple bracelet on her wrist absently. “I . . . well, not really? When I first started sleeping with Dane, I didn’t even really consider him a friend. Just a lay, you know?” Her cheeks pinked at the thought.
“Yes, exactly!” Brenna set the mug down. “How did that work out for you? Just having sex?”
“Not so well,” Miranda said with a laugh, grabbing a stack of books and flipping open the cover of the first one. She began to press stickers inside it and wrote something on the cover, clearly readying it for circulation. “I got all attached and mad at myself because I didn’t want to be attached.”
Brenna frowned. That wasn’t the answer she’d been hoping to hear. The opposite, actually. “So what did you do?”
“Do?” Miranda giggled and looked all lovesick for a moment. “We moved in together. Turned out I wasn’t the only one that couldn’t have sex without getting attached.”
Brenna made a face. “But what if you don’t want to get attached? Aren’t men supposed to like not being tied down?”
“Most men would,” Miranda agreed. “But we’re talking about Grant here, right? The man’s more loyal than a Doberman. He hasn’t dated since his wife died, remember? Why would you think he’d be a good choice for some no-strings-attached sex?”
Gritting her teeth in frustration, Brenna did admit that Miranda had a point. When it came to choices for a quick shag, Grant wouldn’t have been high on anyone’s list. So why was she so determined to sleep with him? It couldn’t have been because she had feelings for him, could it? Ugh. She was so confused. “He asked me to marry him,” Brenna said sourly.
Miranda gasped. “Oh my God. He did?” Her face lit up, and then she narrowed her eyes at Brenna. “You don’t seem excited about it.”
“That’s because I’m not. It was the most unromantic proposal ever!” Brenna sipped the hot tea. “He came to my desk and went on and on about responsibility and safety and how he’d take care of me since it was clear that I couldn’t even take care of myself. So to do me a favor, he was going to marry me and make me his little woman.” She rolled her eyes at the thought and took another sip of tea. “He didn’t even bother to propose with a ring.”
Silence. She peeked at Miranda over the rim of her mug. The librarian was watching her with a curious look, squinting as if she was trying to make out Brenna. Her long, straight brown hair slid over the shoulder of her cream blouse.
“What?” Brenna mumbled.
“I’m confused,” Miranda said, flipping the book shut and placing it atop a pile, and then moving to the next one. She opened it and then began to sticker it. “I thought you wanted no-commitment sex?”
“I do.”
“So why are you mad that he gave you an unromantic proposal and no ring?”
“Because that’s not how you do it! If you’re going to crap things up with a proposal, you might as well make it a good one.”
Miranda’s lips twitched. “But maybe the no ring, no emotions proposal is Grant’s way of being no strings attached. You never know.”
Brenna considered this. “Or maybe the man just wants to be married again.”
Miranda began to say something, then changed her mind, shaking her head. “I just wonder that this isn’t a conversation you should have had with Grant.”