Page 27 of Reckless
No, I may not have pulled the trigger, but this was absolutely my fault. “I’d feel better if you stayed the night here. I don’t think you’re safe by yourself anymore.”
Phoebe rolls her eyes. “Not this again. I’m fine. There’s no reason to think that my apartment isn’t safe with the forty-seven cameras, six deadbolts, three chain locks, and security guards you and the Coles didn’t think I would notice. It’ll be okay.”
“You can’t know that for sure.”
“You can’t know anything for sure,” she retorts.
She’s wrong. I can know a lot of things for sure.
Like I know I’ll regret it if I don’t take a chance and kiss her.
I close the distance between us, cup her face with both my hands and press my lips against hers, shocking us both.
Chapter Thirteen
Phoebe
Griffin’s lips move over mine, but not in a calculated way. They brush and tease as if he’s been thinking about doing exactly this for weeks, and now that it’s happening, he’s going to enjoy every second of it. I forget the throbbing pain from my wound. Forget that I’m supposed to be protesting because kissing Griffin is decidedly unprofessional. And forget that I’m not supposed to be kissing him back.
My hands grip his back for stability as he maneuvers us backward. We nearly slam into the wall behind me, but he catches us at the last second and gently pins me against its unforgiving surface. With the wall behind me and his rock-hard body in front of me, there’s nowhere for me to go. I’m well and truly trapped.
I can’t stop my hands from sliding up his back and over his shoulders. They coast back around to the front of his body, where there’s a breath of air between us. Even with the material covering his stomach, I can feel the ridges of his abs rippling beneath my fingers.
When I moan into his mouth, he deepens the kiss, his tongue delving inside to tangle with mine. The sensation is so breathtakingly erotic that I press my thighs together to quell the ache between them. His taste intoxicates me, and I nip at his mouth to satiate the sudden craving for more. I want so much more.
At my restless shifting against him, he takes each hand and presses them firmly against his chest to tell me I should keep them there. I’m trembling with the anticipation of what he’ll do next. His hands are free to caress their way down my arms, along the side of my ribs, and then they stop at my waist. My breath catches in my throat, and he kisses me sweetly as though in reassurance. He directs me across the room in one quick movement, and we tumble onto a long, fluffy couch with him over me.
One of his hands releases the zipper on my skirt, and the other slides down to caress my thigh. I’ve officially stopped breathing, but it doesn’t seem to matter. He gives me breath with each of his drugging kisses, and I don’t think I’d mind surviving this way as long as he doesn’t stop.
My fists knot the material of his shirt as the tips of his fingers trace the edge of my panties, teasing me. If I could speak, I’d be begging him to stop teasing and go for it. What inhibitions? There are none anymore as far as he is concerned.
When he feels he’s teased me enough, his hand moves into my panties, and I can really feel him, skin against skin where my body weeps for him. One long, thick finger traces my bare lower lips, pushing deeper until it’s coated with the evidence of my need for him. I spread my legs, wanting him inside me, but he moves away, and I moan in frustration.
“I’ve got you,” he says against my lips.
I’ve given up trying to speak. The only sounds coming from my mouth are whimpers and sighs. He seems to know what I’m asking without words.
His expert fingers find my clit with ease, and I melt for him at the first stroke. It should feel wrong, and I’ve made plenty of excuses for why doing exactly this would be a terrible idea. But, as his fingers move over me, I find there are no excuses good enough for something that feels so good.
I’ve never been the type to throw caution to the wind. It has always been my watchword, but I find myself reaching to pull Griffin’s shirt over his head. He stops long enough to let me and then resumes his assault until I really am begging.
I’m mindless with need. I feel close to the edge of something wonderful as well as terrifying.
“Yes, that’s it,” he says. “Come on, come on.” His voice is in my ear, his body pressing against mine. It’s as if he’s become my whole universe.
“I need you inside me,” I say, finally finding the words. “Please.”
He shudders above me, around me. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” I’ve never been more sure of anything.
He sits up, and I take in the view of him shirtless. He’s been shirtless on set for scenes, but I’ve always tried to maintain a professional point of view on those occasions. There’s no being professional here.
“Let’s go to my be—”
A knock at the door has us both stiffening.
“Who’s that?”