He nods, without a blink, a hesitation, or a question. He knows what my dad has. I look out at the tranquil bay for a moment. The rain has stopped and the water is as smooth as glass. I inhale the salty air and turn back to him. “But it’s not someone else’s situation. Just like it isn’t for you. My family is my world, and my dad is the center of that world. So I gladly gave up my life in Toronto and my hobbies, because being a rock for my family, while we all collectively lose our rock, is the only option.”
He doesn’t say anything. He just watches me intently, and I pray I don’t look as close to tears as I am. Crying on a first date probably isn’t proper etiquette. He tilts his head. Our eyes connect. The weight of his stare is making me breathless. I can’t handle it. I feel like I’m in a car and there’s a brick on the gas pedal. This attraction—this connection—is moving fast. Too fast for me to control. I’m suddenly searching for a way to slow down. I put my wineglass on the table. “So is there dessert? Please say you’re a dessert man.”
His expression lightens, and it’s like a heavy blanket being pulled off me. I wanted it to happen, but now I’m missing its warmth. “Oh, I am a dessert man,” he confirms and starts to stand. “I’ll be right back.”
Once he’s disappeared inside, I can finally take a deep breath. I stand up and walk to the edge of the boat. Away from the warmth of the heat lamps, I grip the railing of the boat and take another breath, trying to clear my head and, more importantly, my heart.
13
Griffin
Itake longer than I need to in the kitchen grabbing dessert. I just need a second. This night—this woman—is intense. She isn’t trying to be…in fact I think she’s trying not to be. But every time our eyes meet it’s like we’re looking into each other, not at each other. And everything she says reaches me on levels I haven’t felt…ever. I feel connected to her without even trying. It’s just natural.
I glance at her through the window. She’s moved to the railing, and she’s looking out at the ocean. Under the moonlight, her hair is luminous and golden, like honey, and her pale skin almost looks like it’s glowing. Her round ass is pushed out just a little as she leans on the rail and it is the most perfect thing I have ever seen. My dick is stirring in my pants, just from admiring her silhouette. It’s like there’s a chemical reaction in my blood from just the sight of her. I have got to rein it in because I don’t want to freak her out. Or worse, make her think this is just about one thing. But damn, I do want that one thing…
I adjust the front of my jeans, pull my eyes away from her, and grab the plate on the counter, discarding the plastic wrap I had covered it with, before heading back outside. I place the plate on the table, grab the barbecue lighter, and light the fire pit in the middle of the table. She walks back over from the railing slowly, her blue eyes on the plate.
“S’mores?” she asks in awe, and I nod.
“I brought a bunch of different chocolate to try,” I say and reach out to grab the metal skewers with the wood handles that I bought specifically for s’mores since they’re Charlie’s favorite. “There’s dark chocolate, milk chocolate, and this Belgian chocolate that has a vein of peanut butter running through it.”
“Oh, yes, please!” she almost squeals as she sits back down on her chair, inching forward to reach for the s’mores makings. I push the plate closer to her. I love that she reaches for the peanut butter chocolate first, because it’s my favorite too.
I watch her place the chocolate between the graham crackers and then skewer a marshmallow. Her fingers are long and delicate like an artist’s, and I instantly want to know what they would look like wrapped around my shaft. Shit, so much for keeping control. My thoughts are unmanageable.
She holds the marshmallow over the flames. She doesn’t pull it back until it’s gone from brown to black to on fire. Then she removes it, blows it out, and carefully slides it between the graham crackers next to the chocolate. She looks at me, her face alive with anticipation as she lifts it to her lips and takes a big bite.
“Mmm…” she moans, and the sound runs straight through my core and right to my dick. “This is sooo heavenly sinful.”
“That makes no sense.” I laugh softly, and she shrugs.
“Yeah, well, it’s so good it’s nonsensical,” she replies and then pauses before holding out what’s left of it. “Try.”
I want to taste it…I want to taste a lot of things right now, but the s’more isn’t the highest thing on this list. Still, I reach out and take her wrist in my hand and gently but firmly tug her up out of her seat and guide her to sit next to me on my chair. I slide over to make room for her and then, with my hand still wrapped around her wrist, I move the s’more toward my mouth and take a big, greedy bite.
It’s fucking delicious, but not as delicious as the look of lust on her face. She’s as turned on as I am. This current between us runs both ways. Thank the gods.
There’s nothing left of the s’more now except a dollop of melted marshmallow on the pad of her thumb. We’re both looking at that warm, sticky marshmallow and then…we’re both looking at each other.
“You forgot some.” She whispers the invitation I was hoping for.
With my fingers still wrapped around her wrist, I lean forward and pull her hand toward me and take her thumb into my mouth. She’s moving, so by the time I’ve licked her thumb clean and released it she’s straddling my lap, facing me. Her blue eyes have darkened and are focused on my mouth. Her bottom lip is pushed out, pouty with need. I release her wrist and curl my hand around the back of her neck, guiding her mouth to mine.
Our first kiss was the most passionate, fiery, deep kiss I’ve ever had. And this one blows it right out of the water. Any remaining thoughts of taking this slow or easing up no longer exist. All that exists is the press of her body on mine, the soft gasp that escapes her lips as my free hand drops to her ass and pulls her even closer, and the sweet, sugary taste of her tongue against mine.
Her hands grip my shoulders and she rolls her hips, pressing herself onto my hardness. I cup her perfect ass as she does it again and moves her hands up my neck and into my hair. She laces the short ends through her fingers and tugs on it. I nip and suck on her bottom lip. “All those inappropriate intentions you were worried about,” she whisper-pants against my ear, and my lips lick and suck my way down her slender neck. “They’re appropriate. And I want them all to happen.”
I stand, in one smooth motion, lifting her with me. She gasps, not expecting it, but quickly adapts, effortlessly wrapping her legs around my waist and her lips around my earlobe. As I walk us into the boat, she nips my lobe with her teeth, then whispers, “I have wanted your dick in my mouth since I first laid eyes on you.”
“And I’m all for that, but first I’m going to taste you,” I reply gruffly and march through the house and up the stairs. She wraps a hand more tightly around my neck so that the other one can slip between our torsos and start undoing my belt. “I want my lips on your pussy more than I want to breathe air right now. I bet you’re sweeter than that s’more.”
“Oh, God…” Her voice is already trembling.
“I want your voice to quiver until it breaks, until you can’t speak, until you can’t do anything but pant,” I whisper against her throat, moving my lips along her jugular. Her heart is pumping so damn hard, and I haven’t even gotten her clothes off yet. I pause on the small landing and press her up against the wall, next to the shelves where my hockey trophies are displayed, and I find her lips again with mine as I snap my hips and push my hardest place into her softest.
“Harder,” she begs into the kiss, and I do it again, harder. She moans. It’s primal and unfeigned and it makes my blood turn to fire.
I pull her off the wall and climb the rest of the stairs so fast I’m almost tripping as I take a sharp right into my bedroom and drop her, and myself, roughly onto the king-size bed. I didn’t bother to make it this morning, and there’s a full laundry basket in the corner of the room and a towel on the floor in the bathroom because I really, truly, honestly didn’t think we’d be here tonight. I was trying to be a gentleman. She doesn’t want a gentleman; she wants raw, rough, and dirty. She wants me unfiltered, and I’m going to give it to her.
