Swallowing hard, I nod. Honestly, I didn’t mean to say it. The words just slipped out of my mouth. I can’t take them back now, and I’m not sure I would. It’s what he is, right? Legally speaking, he’s my husband, even though it goes much deeper than that by now. “Well, you are, aren’t you?”
“Fuck yeah, baby girl.” His eyes blaze as he brings his face closer to mine, the tip of his nose skimming along mine. The warmth of his breath has my skin erupting in goose bumps. “I’m your husband. I’m yours, Mira, all yours. You fucking own me.”
Oh, shit. My panties are not going to survive this moment. They’re already soaked.I own him?Who says shit like that? And why do I like it so much? “Griffin…”
“If we weren’t in a parking lot full of families right now, I’d rip those clothes off your body, pull your ass into the air, and fuck your pretty little cunt until every inch of you is branded with my cum. I’d show you just how fully you own me, and how I intend to own you.” One of his hands lets go of my face and slips down my body to cup my throbbing sex over my jeans. The gesture is rough and possessive, and fuck if I don’t whimper against his lips, which hover a hairsbreadth away from mine. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you call me that.”
“Husband?” I ask, my voice breathless and needy. I want to push him over the edge. I want him to slip those long, strong fingers of his inside the waistband of my pants and plunge them into my pussy.
Griffin lets out a growl—the kind all the heroes in my romance books do when they’re turned on and nearly feral for the woman they love—and nips at my bottom lip. Heat suffuses my body, and I gasp against his mouth. “Yes, wife. Since the moment I woke up next to your perfect naked body with that ring on my finger, I’ve been waiting to hear you call me husband.”
When his fingers stroke along the seam of my jeans at my core, I whimper, and Griffin’s eyes flare with lust. He presses a hard, demanding kiss to my lips, but when I open for him, he pulls away rather than deepening it, and I whimper again.
A self-satisfied smile overtakes Griffin’s lips as his hand leaves my sex. “Good thing I’m a pro at waiting now, or it would be really hard to tear myself away from you so we could get lunch.” He winks at me. The bastard winks at me. “But I know you’re hungry, so I’d hate to makeyouwait.”
My mouth is open like a fish, my whole body is on fire, and Griffin Wright, clit-tease extraordinaire, kisses me on the nose, opens his door, and gets out of the car. When I don’t immediately follow, because I’m trying to get over the physical whiplash of the moment, he leans in with a deliberately concerned look on his face.
“You coming, sunshine?”
“Apparently not,” I growl as I unbuckle myself and shove open my door.
Griffin’s laughter follows me all the way inside the restaurant.
“Can I get you anything else?”our server, Eisley, asks. She can’t be older than seventeen, and she’s a million times cooler than I ever hoped to be at her age. She recognized Griffin immediately when we sat down, but instead of fawning over him, she’s been giving him shit the entire lunch. He’s had a blast.
“I think we’re good,” Griffin says, patting his stomach. “Everything was perfect. Thanks, Eisley.”
The girl grins. “Anytime. We make sure all our customers feel like the most important people in the world. Even if they’re only a hockey player.”
I bark out a laugh as Griffin grips his chest and pretends to be wounded. “Oh, we’re definitely requesting you the next time we come back here,” I tell her as Griffin hands her his card. He’s laughing, too, and I’m so glad to see him having fun. Even if I do want to kick his ass because my panties are still damp, and it’s uncomfortable.
Once she returns with Griffin’s card and he leaves her a more than generous tip, we head into the arcade portion of thebuilding. It’s noisy, chaotic, and full of neon signs and flashing lights. There’s everything from basketball hoops to pinball machines, virtual reality to billiards. And Griffin looks like a kid in—well, like a kid in an arcade.
“Oh, air hockey,” he says with a boyish grin, pointing to an empty table.
I raise one eyebrow. “Really? You just got home from an away series, and you want to play air hockey?”
“Hell yeah, sunshine, let’s go. Unless you’re afraid I’ll kick your ass?” Griffin waggles his eyebrows at me tauntingly.
Never one to back down when faced with a challenge, I shrug. “Oh, you’re definitely going to kick my ass, but let’s go.” I scan the arcade when he grabs my hand and tugs me toward the game, but no one is paying us any attention. It seems that none of the patrons have realized there’s a pro hockey player in their midst, so I don’t need to worry about some nosy stranger taking a photo of us holding hands and posting it on the internet for all the world—and my brother—to see.
I know we’ll have to tell Maddox and everyone else about this marriage soon if things keep going the way they’re going, but I’m still not ready. Maybe that makes me a coward, but I don’t care. My feelings for Griffin are growing, and they’re growing quickly, but I’m well aware that, no matter how I feel, there’s going to be a whole lot of drama surrounding our announcement. So I need to be sure this is what I want before we tell anyone. If I’m not dead set on staying married to Griffin, there’s no point in potentially blowing up his friendship with my brother or annihilating my brother’s trust in me.
Griffin wins the air hockey game—because of course he does—and the Skee-Ball game we play afterward. But then I kick his ass when he challenges me to a racing game, and soon all my worries about our secret coming out dissipate like fog on a sunny day amid our laughter and cheeky banter.
A few hours later, Griffin leads me out of the building, his fingers laced in mine, a huge stuffed animal tucked under my arm. My cheeks hurt from smiling, and I’m ready to go home and cuddle up on the couch. Even though I drove my new car here, it still takes me by surprise to see it sitting in the parking lot, instead of my clunky old junker, and I smile like a fool.
“You’re so fucking beautiful when you smile,” Griffin says, leaning his elbows on the roof of the car. “Then again, you’re always beautiful. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. And you’re mine.” He shakes his head as though he simply can’t believe it.
Heat floods my face, and my heart gives a happy thump. “You’re not so bad yourself,” I tease. “And you’re mine.” The way his salacious grin melts my insides and makes me clench my thighs has my voice coming out breathy and laced with innuendo. “Ready to head home?”
“Oh, wifey, my head is more than ready to be home.” He winks, and I laugh as we get in the car.
“That was a terrible line.” Not that my vagina seems to have gotten the memo. She’s pretty excited about all of this.
Griffin chuckles. “I’ll make it up to you. Now let’s go, baby. All those games made me work up an appetite. I’m hungry for something sweet.”
I shiver when he drags his knuckles along my inner thigh and pray I don’t get a ticket as I peel out of the parking lot and speed all the way home.
