Sometime after two, a tremendous crash shakes the house. I let out a yelp before I’m fully awake and my body jerks upright. Strong arms wrap around me and pull me against a solid chest.
“It’s okay.” Griffin’s voice rumbles through me. His lips brush my hair. “We’re okay. I’ve got you.”
I’m trembling against him. His arms tighten, one hand splaying across my lower back, and I realize the jersey has ridden up. His palm is on bare skin. His fingers are inches from the curve of my ass.
“What was that?” I gasp.
“Tree branch through the window.” His thumb traces absent circles on my hip. “We’re okay, I’ve got you.”
I relax into his embrace. I should pull away. I know I should. But his chest is warm against my cheek, and his heartbeat is steady under my ear.
“This doesn’t mean anything,” I whisper.
“I know,” he murmurs back.
But his hand slides lower. Cups the curve of my ass through the jersey. I feel him hard against my hip, thick and insistent. A whimper escapes my throat before I can stop it.
“Jess…” His voice is strained. It’s a plea and a warning.
There won’t be any coming back from this. We both know it, but right now I can’t think of a single reason not to give into him.
“Just for tonight,” I hear myself whisper. “Just until the storm passes.”
He groans. It’s a sound of pure surrender and then we’re tangled together. My head on his chest. His arm around my waist and our legs intertwine. His dick presses against my thigh. He’s hard and hot even through his sweatpants. My nipples are peaked against his chest.
Neither of us sleeps.
We just lie there for hours. Our bodies press together and we pretend this is innocent. Like I can’t feel him throbbing against me. Pretending I’m not soaking wet and aching for him to do something about it.
The storm rages on, and so do we.
CHAPTER 10
GRIFFIN
“This is a mistake,”she breathes.
“Probably,” I murmur into her hair.
“We should stop before we start.”
“Do you want to stop?”
She looks up at me. Her eyes are blazing fury and want and five years of grief all tangled together. Her chest heaves against mine, her nipples are hard points through my jersey.
“No,” she admits.
Then she kisses me.
It’s not soft or gentle. The kiss is desperate. Starving. Jess kisses me with five years of frustration and longing crashing together. Her mouth is hot and demanding against mine. Her tongue slides past my lips, and I give her everything she’s asking for.
My hands slide from her face to her waist and I yank her body flush against mine. She gasps into my mouth when she feels how hard I am. I swallow the sound, greedy for more. Her fingers tangle in my hair.
We’re lost in a frenzy when I climb on top of her and push open her thighs. My hands find bare skin and I reacquaint myself with her every curve. She’s warm, soft, and mine.
“Griffin.” My name is a chant on her full lips.
I kiss down her jaw and across her neck. I keep moving until I find the spot behind her ear that always made her fall apart. It works. She shudders against me and her head falls back. The moan that slips out of her makes me twitch with desire.
