“Yes, please,” she whispered.
Chapter Twelve
THE WALL
Jessa
Griffin crossedthe space between us like a hunter to prey. He attacked his belt buckle and removed it in one motion with a crack of the leather. It clattered to the floor, taking my breath away with it.
“Yes.” Wetness pooled in my panties. Every coherent thought I’d had evaporated.
He backed me against the wall beside my closet. His mouth found mine, hot and demanding, and I melted into him. I’d missed the way he kissed like he was claiming something that belonged to him.
His hands were everywhere—sliding up my sides, thumbs grazing the edge of my bra, fingers digging into my hips like he couldn’t get close enough.
“You’ve been driving me insane all week,” he whispered against my mouth, tugging at the clasp of my bra.
I giggled recklessly. “How so?”
“Your curves. Your mouth. The way you look at me like you’re not impressed.”
“I see right through you. You act all tough and demanding of everyone around you. You’re stressed. I can help you loosen up.”
With one twist of my hand, I undid my bra, and it fell away. He groaned at the sight of my breasts. “Christ, Jessa.”
He buried his face in my cleavage. My hand lifted a breast closer to his mouth. The way his tongue teased my nipple—perfection.
I fumbled with his buttons, fingers clumsy with urgency. He pulled away long enough to remove it, and his pants next. From a sexy tight pair of Calvin Kleins, he reached in and pulled out his glorious cock. I licked my lips. He lifted me effortlessly, my legs wrapping around his waist, his arousal pressing exactly where I needed it.
“Have you been with another man since?—”
“No. And you? With another woman?” I held my breath.
“No.” He gave my lower lip a hungry nibble. “We should probably?—”
“If you say ‘slow down,’ I’m kicking you out.”
His chuckle was dark, possessive. “I was going to say we should probably move this to the bed.”
“Can’t handle the wall?”
“Baby, I can handle anything. I just want you to be comfortable.”
“I’m very comfortable in your arms.”
His blistering kiss set fire to me, and I drowned in him—the taste of his expensive liquor brand on his tongue, the flex of muscles under my palms, the way he held me like I weighed nothing.
He pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, his breath ragged. At last—he gave me the look I recalled from our night in Holly Creek.
“Jessa… Ever since that night I can’t stop thinking about you.”
Tell him about the baby, right now!
But his hands yanked my panties off, tearing them, his mouth hot on my throat, and I couldn’t. Not when I wanted him so badly my body shook.
If I told him, he’d stop. He’d pull away. He might look at me with anger or betrayal or worse—disappointment. And I couldn’t risk losing this, not yet.
He reached down between us and played his cock through my slick folds.
