"Shh." But he was smiling against her neck, clearly pleased with himself.
Riley retaliated by pressing her palm against the front of his jeans, feeling him hard and ready, and Grant's breath stuttered.
"Two can play that game," she murmured.
"Riley—"
But she was already working at his belt, desperate and clumsy with need. She got the button undone, started on the zipper, and Grant groaned low in his throat.
"We can't—" he started, but his hips pressed forward into her hand, betraying him.
"We're not," Riley said, rubbing him through his jeans. "Just—this is just?—"
She didn't finish the sentence because Grant's thigh was between her legs now, pressing up, and Riley's brain short-circuited. She rolled her hips against him, chasing the friction, and Grant's hands tightened on her waist.
"God, you're so hot," he muttered. "Can't get enough of you."
Riley kissed him hard, her hand still working him through his jeans, and Grant's other hand found her breast again, pinching her nipple in a way that made her gasp into his mouth.
She was riding his thigh now, shameless and desperate, the rough denim of his jeans providing just enough friction to make her crazy. Grant's breathing was ragged, his hips rocking into her hand, and Riley was so close, just a little more?—
"Riley?Riley?"
They both froze.
Hannah's voice was getting closer. "Riley, where did you go? Your mom's looking for you!"
"Shit," Riley hissed, scrambling to pull her sweater down, to fix her bra, to look like she hadn't just been?—
Grant was already buttoning his jeans, his face flushed, his hair a mess from her hands. They stared at each other for a second, both breathing hard, and both clearly frustrated.
"Riley!"
"Coming!" Riley called, trying to make her voice sound normal and not like she'd been thirty seconds away from an orgasm in a storage closet.
She pressed her hands to her flaming cheeks, trying to calm down, while Grant straightened his sweater and attempted to look presentable.
"How do I look?" Riley whispered.
"Like you've been making out in a storage room."
"Grant."
"Beautiful. You look beautiful." He kissed her quickly, sweetly, then cracked open the door. "Coast is clear. Go. I'll need a minute."
Riley slipped out into the hallway, nearly colliding with Hannah.
"There you are!" Hannah looked her up and down, taking in Riley's flushed face and slightly askew sweater. "Were you just?—"
"Bathroom," Riley said quickly.
"Uh huh." Hannah's grin was knowing. "Your mom and dad are heading out. They wanted to say goodbye."
"Right. Of course. Heading out."
Riley smoothed down her sweater—which was still blinking cheerfully, oblivious to the fact it had been halfway off two minutes ago—and followed Hannah back to the main room.
Her parents were indeed putting on their coats, her dad chatting with Thomas about something involving crop rotation.
