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Chapter Sixteen

Griffin

Keeping your own strength under control is surprisingly difficult when you’re used to allowing your impulses free rein. On the field, it was my job to unleash it, to hit harder, run faster, to cause disruption by ripping into someone else’s space.

The foundation of my success was knowing exactly when to allow myself to tap into that ruthless energy that I kept locked inside. Never before had I worried that it might spill over into an interaction with a woman.

What a stupid, dry word for what this was.

It wasn’t an interaction—it was a revelation. And if I wasn’t careful, if I didn’t tighten my grip on my own control, I’d end up fucking Ruby straight through the concrete wall and leave us covered in rubble at the end. A sharp-toothed, clawing voice inside my head screamed with the need for it, to touch her more and kiss her harder and give us both more, more, more.

And even then, I had a feeling it wouldn’t be enough.

Echoing through the empty hallway was nothing but the sound of me kissing Ruby.

She made the sweetest little noises as I sucked her tongue into my mouth, spearing my hand into her silky hair while I rolled my hips along her center. Only the thinnest scraps of material separated us—her cotton shorts, whatever might be underneath them, and my own athletic shorts.

The impulse was anchored tight around my spine, impossible to ignore.

Take her. Take her. Take her.

She’d be soft and wet and sweet—so very, very tight too. My head spun at the thought, all the blood rushing between my legs, where it pooled into one angry hard-on.

Our kisses were fierce and sloppy, clacking teeth and hot, wet tongues, a dirtier version of how we’d kissed in her office. That kiss had been testing something new. My hands moved more carefully, my restraint perilously in charge.

This was an entirely different beast. It wasn’t unknown, and God, was it better because of it.

It was impossible to imagine any universe where kissing her wasn’t vital. Where it wasn’t the single most significant use of my time. Her hands, still trapped between us, grappled at my shirt, fisting the cotton tightly to hold me in place. Like I was going fucking anywhere.

I’d live there with her if she asked. I’d kiss her and touch her and make her mindless and screaming in the dark for as long as she’d let me, because Ruby Tate in my arms was better than anything I’d ever felt.

Would she let me do that?

I broke my mouth away from hers and sucked at her neck, coasting my hand down her back to fill my palms with her backside underneath her shorts as she writhed against me. Ruby gasped when I bit down on the slope of her shoulder, then dragged my nose up the edge of her jaw.

My hand on her ass directed her movements, and I pulled my head back, watched her eyes go hazy as she found the right rhythm.

Even though I hadn’t done it since I was a teenager, I was going to come in my shorts if I watched her like that for too much longer, and fuck if that didn’t sound like a sacrifice I was willing to make. The thought of her using me for anything sounded like my patriotic duty at this point.

I was doing this for America.

The rocking motion of her hips had my eyes fluttering shut, my jaw tightening as I gritted my teeth. I sucked her bottom lip into my mouth, and she groaned when I released it.

“That’s it, baby,” I whispered. “That feeling good?”

“Y-yes,” she said in a stuttering voice thick with desire. “I can’t ... I can’t do this myself.”

I hummed, sucking the soft skin of her earlobe into my mouth, relishing the shocked hiss that sprang from her lips. Her body jerked against my own. “You want help?”

Frantically, she nodded. “Yes. Yes.”

My hand moved between us, hooking my fingers into her shorts and the soft elastic of her panties, pulling them aside while I slanted my mouth over hers in a deep, searching kiss. Her hands clutched the back of my head while we devoured each other. When her fingers tightened in my hair, that sharp bite of pain pulled a helpless groan that escaped into her mouth. She swallowed the sound, rocking her hips in a slow, rolling movement.

I pushed my chest back a fraction, making room for my arm between us as I slid one finger in between her legs.

Her head snapped back, a loud, drawn-out moan leaving her lips, and the sound was so fucking good, so delicious and unrestrained, that I wanted to hear it for the rest of my life.

Then I added a second finger, whispering naughty things against her bare shoulder as she took me easily.

“Feels so good,” I told her. “Fucking perfect, Ruby.”

The words didn’t surprise me, because she felt it around my fingers as they slid easily between her legs, as she rocked herself to orgasm on nothing but my hand. But what did shock me was how easily I’d allowed myself to say them.

Neither of us was pretending; there were no false words or forced interactions. This was tiptoeing right up against the flame and hoping we didn’t get burned. Her especially, because I was the one leaving soon, but there was a part of me that worried I’d feel so much more than I let on once this was done.

Only once had I felt like this about a woman, someone I thought I’d loved and would’ve destroyed my life for if she’d have let me. Instead, I was the one destroyed—and Ruby wasn’t anything like her.

This was different. The feel of it, of her, rattled the cage of everything I’d built around myself the last few years. Ruby was pure and good and kind. She was naive and straightforward, and she had no idea what she was missing out on.

God, how I’d show her if she let me.

“Close,” she whimpered. Around my fingers, she fluttered. Her head dropped back against the wall as she keened, and I angled my fingers, using my palm against her as she rocked. Disjointed, whispered pleas fell from her lips, and the moment she broke apart, it was the most beautiful fucking thing I’d ever seen.

Her body jerked in my arms, shuddering through what seemed to be a really great orgasm, and I kissed her through it, swallowing her sounds with swipes of my tongue into her mouth. The tension bled from her frame, but I was able to hold her easily with one arm banded underneath her ass while I slowly worked her through the aftershocks, finally easing my fingers out from between her legs.

Surreptitiously, I wiped them on my shorts before I smoothed my palm around her waist. Her skin was so soft. I wanted to kiss her everywhere. I briefly wondered if I could ask to do just that. Take her home and strip her of all her clothes and kiss every fucking inch of her body, see which parts she liked my mouth on best.

“Oh, wow,” she breathed against my lips. “Can we do that again?”

I laughed, devouring every detail of her expression, a soft, tender feeling growing big and scary under my ribs. “Liked that, did you?”

She hummed, her gaze drowsy as it lingered over my face. Her hand cradled my jaw, her thumb tracing the bottom edge of my lip, and I nipped at her finger, sucking it briefly into my mouth and biting down on the fleshy pad with my teeth.

Her smile was fucking incandescent, and maybe it was some hidden poetic side of me coming out, but I felt it echo in my chest. Felt it soak into my bones.

Because I wanted to, I leaned forward to kiss her again, a little bit sweeter this time. I held her face with my other hand and let my fingers trace over the line of her cheekbone and jaw while we kissed lazily.

She wasn’t pulling back this time, and even though this wasn’t the place to take whatever this was any further, I wasn’t in a rush to disappear either. I just wanted more.

How much would she be willing to give me? This cagey little bird who held herself so separate, held herself back. My fingers moved from her face, coasting over her shoulder to trace the line of her arm as she smiled softly, her eyes closed.

“Don’t fall asleep like that,” I teased.

Her lips lifted at the edges and she hummed. “No promises. I don’t even remember my name right now.”

“Ahhh. The best side effect of a really good orgasm.” I fitted her bottom lip between mine and sucked lightly, applying the same treatment to the top lip. Her tongue snuck out to brush the seam of my mouth, and I opened with a low groan, tilting my head to allow her to deepen the kiss. Everything was slower now, but still, my restraint was holding on by a single fraying thread.

Ruby rocked her hips restlessly, her eyes flying open when she felt how hard I still was. “Oh.”

I grinned. “ Oh. ”

She huffed, but her mouth spread in a happy smile. “You can’t go out like that. You’ll scare the children.”

“You gonna help me with it, birdy?” I nipped at her lips. “Use your hand and let me make you a little messy?”

Her exhale was shaky, her eyes direct. “Do you want that?”

“Oh, I want all sorts of things,” I told her, keeping my tone light. My fingers tightened on the curve of her waist, pressing for a moment against the line of her ribs under the skin. “More than anything, I want you in a bed, pretty girl.”

Her eyes searched mine. “Really?”

I rocked my hips against her, and her eyes fluttered shut. “That feel real to you?”

Ruby swallowed audibly, tilting her head back again. “Griffin, it feels amazing.”

That was all it took; I couldn’t imagine setting her back down. There was no letting her go. Maybe a bed was overrated. Maybe half-clothed wall sex was exactly what we needed in our lives. There was plenty of time for beds later.

I dipped my head down to suck at her shoulder again, tonguing the strap of her bra. I dragged my nose along her clavicle, inhaling the sweet, soft scent of her until I encountered the balled-up shirt of mine still trapped between us.

I smiled, reaching up carefully to pull it aside so I could lick along the line of her bra.

As I tugged on the edge of the shirt, Ruby’s entire body froze, just as my eyes locked in on the center of her chest.

When they did, there was a sharp crack of silence, a resounding vacuum of noiseless shock as the air was sucked from the building.

“What the fuck?” I breathed, my head rearing back as I stared slack-jawed at the rough-edged, pinkish-white scar that ran down the entire length of her sternum. It had to be close to six inches long, given where it started and where it disappeared under her bra. My entire chest was caving in. “What happened to you?”

Ruby pushed at my chest, untangling her legs from around my waist. “Put me down,” she said, frantically trying to create space between our bodies. “Oh God. I’m sorry. Please put me down.”

“Why are you sorry?” I held my hands out, wanting to soothe her obvious agitation but unsure if she’d welcome my touch. “Ruby, what is that?”

Her whole body was trembling, her hands again clutching the shirt. “I have to go.”

“No, wait,” I said, reaching out and laying a gentle hand on her arm. She froze. “Please just tell me something. Anything. ”

Ruby was sucking in short, panting breaths, her cheeks splotched with red and her eyes filled with tears. One slipped down her cheek as she fumbled with the shirt, and I almost fell to my knees.

“What do you need?” I asked quietly. God, I was glad my voice was quiet, because everything inside me shook with a tremendous force, and it felt like there was no outlet for the frantic thoughts racing through my head.

“The shirt,” she said in a halting voice. “I can’t ... I can’t get it.”

I stepped forward and pulled it carefully from her shaking hands, finding the neck hole and easing it over her head. She shoved her arms through the sleeves, her eyes pinched shut but her breath coming a little bit easier once the oversize shirt swamped her frame.

Backing away to give her space, I swiped a hand over my mouth and tried to find words.

When she opened her eyes, I felt the pain and embarrassment in them like she was screaming it into the room. But when she spoke, it was hardly above a whisper. “It’s my heart.” Absently, her hand rubbed at the line of the scar. I couldn’t get the image of it out of my head. “I ... I had heart transplant surgery about four years ago.”

“What?” My brow furrowed. “Why? Why didn’t you say anything?”

Another tear dashed down her cheek, and she scrubbed at it with an angry swipe of her hand. “I don’t owe anyone that information,” she said fiercely. “This was supposed to be fun, simple, easy, right?”

I held my hands up. “You’re right. You don’t owe anyone that.” I swallowed, mind racing while I searched for the right thing to say. “That’s why you stopped us the other night, isn’t it?”

She was crying openly now, not even trying to stop the tears coursing down her face. Ruby gave a jerky nod. “You don’t know what it’s like,” she whispered.

“Did you think I’d care that you have a scar?”

Her chest heaved, her eyes tortured. “Do you know what the last man told me who saw that? How he reacted when I pulled my shirt off? I’d warned him before I slept with him, and he still looked at me with disgust. Disgust , Griffin.”

My jaw was tight and my chest hot with ineffectual anger. “The corpse comment,” I said raggedly.

“‘Can’t you cover it?’” she whispered. “‘It makes me feel like I just fucked a corpse.’”

“Holy fuck,” I breathed, hanging my head down as my chest cracked wide open for this fucking woman.

She pressed her fingers to her mouth while she swallowed a sob. “Every time I think about someone looking at me or touching me, I hear him say it.” Her eyes pinched shut. “I just want to forget it’s there, and I can’t, because when I tell someone it happened, everything changes.”

“Ruby,” I said helplessly, reaching out to touch her, then pulling my hands back out of an abundance of caution. “That guy was a fucking asshole.”

Her eyes flashed. “I know that. But everyone treats you differently once they know. Like I’m fragile and I’m breakable. Like I can’t ... like I’m not normal.” She shook her head, her cheeks now splotchy and red from crying, and each tear made me want to tear my own fucking heart out, if only it would make her feel better. “You will too,” she whispered. “I can see the pity in your face.”

“You had a fucking heart transplant, Ruby, and I found out about it two seconds ago—of course I feel bad.” I speared my hands into my hair, shaking my head, desperately grasping for the reins on my control. The stark, obscene difference in why I needed it now was not lost on me. “It doesn’t mean I can’t handle it.”

She shook her head. “This is my fault. I’m sorry for not telling you earlier. I should’ve told you as soon as I asked for your help.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to agree, but I kept those words leashed by some sort of miraculous restraint. The truth was, I didn’t know what she felt like, and I never would.

A heart transplant in her midtwenties? Fucking inconceivable. A million questions peppered my choppy thoughts, but I kept them banked.

Now wasn’t the time. I just hoped she’d give me more of that.

“I need to get back out there,” she said, voice heavy with resignation. “I, um, I won’t go back to the tank with you, though. I should check on the other booths.” She glanced at her watch and sighed. “We only have about an hour left.”

She started turning away, and before I could stop myself, I reached out, wrapping my fingers lightly around her wrist.

“Ruby,” I whispered, wanting to step closer and fold her up in my arms, wanting to hold her tight and take away everything inside her that made her sad, that made her hurt. Something in her face held me back, as effective as her hands, firm and unyielding, against my chest.

Her mouth curled into a sad smile, and she gently pulled out of my grasp. “It’s okay, Griffin.”

She disappeared around the corner, and I braced my hands against the wall, head hanging down.

No. No, it wasn’t okay. I just didn’t know what it meant.