He turns and sees me, a smile playing on his lips. I don’t say a word. I walk into his room, close the door behind me, and kiss him.
Hard.
I’ve been needing to do this since the moment I walked into this apartment and saw him studying.
He makes a sound, somewhere between a groan and a sigh, and it undoes me completely.
I pull back just a little, breathing heavy, eyes locked on his.
“Come hang out with us,” I say, voice low and rough. “Please.”
He smiles up at me, completely sweet and at ease, and nods.
25
Jacob
We’ve been playingvideo games for an hour when Hughie lets out a ridiculous yawn and glances our way.
“I’m heading to bed,” he states before standing and leaving the room.
He doesn’t glance at either of us as he stalks down the hallway towards his room.
“Come to my room,” I whisper to Griffin the second Hughie is in his room.
He follows without question. I close the door behind us as quietly as I can manage, heart hammering so hard I'm sure he can hear it. Griffin stands near the foot of the bed, watching me with those intense eyes that never seem to miss a thing.
“We shouldn't be doing this,” I say, even as I step closer to him. My hands are shaking slightly and I clench them into fists.
Griffin closes the distance between us in one stride, and suddenly his hand is cupping my jaw, tilting my face up.
“Then tell me to stop,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing across my lower lip.
I can feel the heat radiating from his body and all I want is to get closer to him. My resolve crumbles with that one thought. Isurge forward and press my mouth to his, swallowing whatever he was about to say. The kiss is harder than I intended, but I feel so much pent up need inside of me that I can barely breathe.
His lips part beneath mine and I take the invitation, sliding my tongue against his. He tastes like beer and something sweet, and the low sound he makes in the back of his throat sends electricity racing down my spine. His other hand finds my hip and his fingers dig in as he pulls me flush against him.
I can feel every hard plane of his body. The solid warmth of his chest. The evidence of his arousal pressing against my thigh. My own desire is becoming impossible to ignore.
I break the kiss just long enough to get my hands on his shoulders and shove him backward. Griffin stumbles slightly, surprise flashing across his face before his knees hit the mattress and he sits heavily with his thighs spread wide. The sight of him looking up at me with his pupils blown wide and lips swollen from my mouth, does something to me I wasn't prepared for.
Power and vulnerability twist together in my chest. I move between his spread thighs, threading my fingers through his hair and tilting his head back so I can claim his mouth again.
Griffin's hands slide up the backs of my thighs and suddenly I'm off balance and being pulled forward. He stands in one fluid motion, reversing our positions so I'm the one sitting on the edge of the bed with him looming over me.
“My turn,” he says, voice rough and commanding in a way that makes my stomach flip. He pushes me back until I'm lying flat, then follows me down, settling his weight between my legs.
His mouth trails hot and open down the side of my neck while his hands work their way under my shirt. I arch up into him, desperate for more contact, more friction, more of everything he's willing to give. The fabric of my shirt lifts and cool air hits my chest for only a second before Griffin's palms arethere sliding over my bare skin, tracing the lines of muscle and bone.
“You have no idea how long I've wanted this,” he breathes against my collarbone, and the raw honesty in his voice makes something crack open inside me.
Griffin moves with ease, his thumbs sliding into my sweats and slowly pulling them down.
The heat in his eyes as they travel down my skin makes me bite back a moan.
“Christ, you're gorgeous,” he mutters, and then he's leaning back, reaching behind his head to tug his own shirt off. The sight of him nearly undoes me: broad shoulders, defined abs, the trail of dark hair disappearing beneath his waistband.
I sit up enough to reach for his belt, fingers fumbling with the buckle until he covers my hands with his own and guides them. The leather slides free and I pop the button of his jeans, drag the zipper down slowly.
