Page 35 of Rough Patch

Never in Fiona’s life had she found a man more enticing, especially while he was doing something as mundane as mowing the lawn. But that sheen of sweat, that swagger to his walk, the way his muscles extended and contracted as he pushed and pulled the mower across the backyard was hot.

She fanned herself with her hand. When that did nothing to cool her off, she sopped her forehead with a towel. There was something to be said for seventy-degree, bright sunshiny days in December. Something else to be said for having ignored yard maintenance until now, and even more to say about the way her husband looked, bare-chested, in basketball shorts.

The baby cooed in her swing watching some cartoon show while Fiona stood at the backdoor gawking at Grier, knowing she’d promised to decorate the tree while he worked outside, but unable to move. Grier had a thousand looks she loved, but domesticated was one of her favorites.

When the mower died, she waited until he walked up the steps and opened the door before she moved. “You’re hot.” And she wasn’t talking temperature-wise.

“And sweaty.” He wrinkled his nose and walked around her to the cabinet for a glass he filled with ice and water. Fiona couldn’t stop staring. Nor did she want to. He smiled. “What?”

She kicked off her shoes and smiled as she ran her finger down his chest. “I got cleared by the doctor.” And just in the nick of time, too. She’d had enough of waiting, enough of getting Grier off while she suffered without.

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah. Fit as a fiddle and… ready.” She unbuttoned the first three buttons of her shirt before he reached to stop her.

“Can we get a sitter for tonight?”

Tonight? He was planning to make her wait? After she’d rushed home from the doctor to find him mowing, worked herself into a frenzy watching, and was now about to burst with wanting him?

“Probably, but…” Dammit. She didn’t need some grand gesture. She needed his dick. Needed an earth-shattering orgasm. Needed Grier to take off his pants and make some serious moaning happen.

“Good. I’m going to shower and get ready.” He walked past her again.

She put a hand on his chest. “I could help you prime the pump.”

“Nice play on words. But no. My pump’s been primed for a while.” He kissed her softly, but quickly. A tease and not nearly enough. “Tonight. I promise.”

She’d stopped on the way home for condoms she’d left on the bed. They were still there when Jez came to pick up the baby and Fiona hid her new lingerie under her new dress. She picked a pair of fuck-me pumps in a deep shade of blue that matched the dress and walked out into the living room where Grier waited in a pair of jeans and a button-down.

Her heart thumped hard and her breath came in short puffs. They’d be lucky to make it to whatever restaurant he insisted on dragging her to. “Okay, I’m ready.”

He turned and his eyes blazed a path up her body. “Yes, you are.” The look was raw and hot and Fiona’s panties went damp.

“Shall we go?” She didn’t add, ‘and get this over with’, but her tone said it for her. She didn’t need any damned food. She needed Grier naked and on top of her. Or under her. Or behind her. She didn’t care which.

He nodded slowly. “I made reservations at…”

She didn’t care. Not when he helped her with her coat—the temperature had dropped by thirty degrees in the last few hours with a cold front—or when he guided her toward the Mercedes.

As he drove, he slid his hand across her thigh, under the hem of her skirt, then inched toward the white-hot heat of her pussy. She slid down in the seat urging him closer, moaning when he brushed his finger over her clit then drew away. “You’re so wet.” His voice, husky and deep, washed over her.

She slipped off her seatbelt and leaned across the console. Grier wasn’t the only one who could tease. “That’s because I’ve been thinking about your cock all day long.” She ran her tongue over the shell of his ear. “Let’s find a nice secluded spot. You can move the seat back and I’ll—”

She didn’t finish because the car jerked when Grier braked hard. Their bumper tapped the car in front of them.

“Fuck.” He’d thrown an arm in front of her to keep her from lurching forward, but he dropped it now. “Are you okay?”

She was fine. Less horny now, but fine. “Yeah. You?”

“Well, officer, I closed my eyes thinking about fucking my wife, and when I opened them, the car in front of me was stopped.” He chuckled. “Maybe I’ll get a judge with a hot wife who understands how it is.”

“Or maybe we can just turn it in to the insurance and be on our way?” This was not the best way to start date night.

Fiona waited while Grier exchanged insurance information with the other driver, then for him to give a short statement to the police, then for the tow truck to arrive to haul away Max’s car. It wasn’t until they were in a taxi that she got to touch him again. She laid his hand in her lap and tugged the hem of her skirt up.

He pulled her panties to the side and whispered, “Don’t make a sound.” His finger slipped along her clit and she breathed in slow until he pushed it inside her. He stared ahead as if watching the road, not looking at her, but his half-smile said he knew exactly what he was doing.

His finger dipped in and out as he used his thumb to circle her clit, and she tried not to pant, tried not to moan, even when they pulled in front of the restaurant and he withdrew. Before he opened the door to get out, he kissed her cheek and whispered, “You can finish inside.”