Page 58 of Silver Spoon Falls, Vol. I
FORTY
MORGAN
Hot darn. My mouth drops open as his dark chocolate eyes hold mine captive. The smoking hot hero in my current read doesn’t hold a candle to the tall, dark, and way-the-heck out-of-my-league stripper staring down at me like I’m his next meal.
A small lock of dark brown hair falls over his forehead, taking away some of the gruffness of his expression.
My eyes travel over his hot-as-holy-heck body.
His tree trunk-thick leg muscles are almost too much for the tight jean material stretched across them.
The black leather jacket and tight white t-shirt conceal his upper body, but I’m betting it’s just as drool-worthy.
Swallowing, I fight hard to school my features into my patented bored look.
“The bride is over there.” I point at my overly toasted friend while the thought of him removing his clothes for my friends causes my heart to squeeze tight in my chest. The smoking hot stripper turns slightly, giving me a bird’s-eye view of his perfect rear end.
Oh my. “You’re supposed to be stripping for her.
” As the words leave my mouth, my naughty side hopes the sexy-as-sin stripper has other plans for me.
“I’m the bride.” Camden wobbles her way over on freaking five-inch heels, interrupting us.
I’m a little jealous that I can’t wear those torture devices sober, but my friend can rock them three sheets to the wind.
“And I’m ready for you to protect me.” She wiggles her perfectly arched eyebrows up at the hot stripper, and my hands clench in my lap as the green-eyed monster nips at my heels.
“Take it all off.” Oh, heck no. For some reason, I know I won’t be able to sit by quietly while he removes all his clothes for my friends.
“No offense, princess, but I’m not getting my ass kicked by your rich-ass husband-to-be,” he growls at Camden before reaching for my hand and tugging me to my feet. “I’m going to give your bridesmaid a special private lap dance.”
I blink several times wondering if I heard him right.
What bridesmaid? Before I know it, I’m following as he tugs me down the long hallway. His large, warm palm gently clasping mine sends electric shocks straight down my spine. The stripper glances into the empty library and seems satisfied with it because he pulls me in and slams the door behind us.
“I don’t want a private dance.” I almost slap my forehead as the lame words escape past my numb lips.
Why can’t I be like the sassy heroines in my favorite romance stories?
“But I’m sure the other bridesmaids would be thrilled for you to remove your clothes for them.
” There’s that darn green-eyed monster again.
“I don’t plan on ever stripping for any other woman but you.”
“Yeah, right.” I snort as my dislike for lying overrides my inability to speak coherently to the opposite sex. “Pull the other leg.”
His closeness is causing unusual palpitations in my chest. Didn’t I learn anything from my dad’s tendency to ignore his marriage vows?
When my parents' marriage fell apart, my older brother stepped in to raise me. Living through two years of hell while my parents tore each other apart taught me a valuable lesson. I promised myself I’d never allow any man to treat me poorly.
Too bad, my romance-addicted heart didn’t get the memo.
“It might be a little hard to find work if you refuse to do your job,” I remind the hot stripper.
“We need to get a few things straight.” He towers over me, and the heat radiating from his massive body wraps around me.
I ignore his yummy masculine scent and attempt to step back, but he wraps his massive palms around my elbows, pulling me closer. “Stop dragging me around.”
“Stop trying to get away.” His exasperation is showing.
“No.” I wince as the huff comes out of my mouth, sounding just like a toddler.
“Why don’t we start over?” His charming smile might work with most women, but I’m not falling for it.
I straighten to my full five-foot-one height and stare into his smiling brown eyes.
“My name is Grizz Delacorte.” He holds out his hand, and I look down at it for a few seconds, attempting to decide if I’m brave enough to touch him again.
The first time almost blew my mind. I’m not sure my heart will be able to resist a second time.
“Grizz?” Uh, that’s an unusual name.
"I was born early and came out covered in hair and screaming at the top of my lungs. My parents said I reminded them of a little grizzly bear. So, Grizz it is." He shrugs like that's not the cutest thing ever.
I’m debating how to respond when he leans over to breathe next to my ear. “Now that we got that out of the way, aren’t you going to tell me your name?”
I take a tiny step back before muttering, “Morgan Tempest.”
“You definitely are a temptation.” I’ve heard girls call my hockey star brother that silly nickname, but this is the first time anyone has ever used it for me. “One I don’t plan to resist.”
He backs me up until the back of my knees hit the large brown leather sofa taking up the entire wall. In one move, Grizz sits me on the edge of the sofa and drops to his knees in front of me.
All my thoughts scatter when he leans back and slips his leather jacket off. I was so freaking right about his body. His muscles ripple as he places his palms on either side of my thighs and leans over to run his nose along the skin at the base of my throat.
“Fuck, I could eat you up.” My eyes cross when he runs his tongue across the vein pounding on the side of my throat.
A loud voice screeches through my mind that this is the worst idea ever.
Even worse than when I let Camden convince me to sneak into a bar Freshman year.
We both ended up in jail. Luckily, my brother was willing to bail us out without telling Camden’s overprotective parents.
Grizz’s warm breath brushes across my skin, and I shiver while attempting to remind myself that romance book heroes don’t jump off the pages and fall for chubby bookworms. It just doesn’t happen.
His warm hands run up my thighs, and I feel the heat of his touch through my yoga pants. I’m in so much trouble here. All my resistance and common sense fly right out the stained-glass window above the mantel as Grizz kisses me.
The word kiss is too tame for what his mouth is doing to mine. While his tongue explores every crevice of my mouth, I turn off my thoughts and melt against the soft leather.
He shifts a little closer, and my naughty side nearly explodes when something very large and very hard brushes against my inner thigh.
I’m in so much trouble here, and I have no idea how to put a halt to it before I lose my heart and virginity to the hot stripper.
“I owe Giant a goddamn distillery for giving me this assignment.” His words are like a bucket of cold water right to the face. He’s a stripper on assignment. I’m nothing special. He’s trying to earn a bigger tip by giving the shy wallflower a private lap dance.
Catching him by surprise, I kick with all my might and send him sprawling on his big, stripping rear end.
“Go try your stripper wiles on someone else,” I growl and blink back the stupid tears filling my eyes. Before he’s able to react, I kick off the ridiculous three-inch heels Camden insisted I wear and bolt for the door.
As I rush through the large mansion, I hear my sloshed friends hooting and hollering. I guess they found something else to occupy themselves. I’m so perturbed at myself as I lose the fight and stupid tears run down my face.
I’m ten feet from the front door and escaping this bachelorette party from hell when I turn around to look for my favorite book.
Miles gave that first edition of Les Misérables to me for my sixteenth birthday.
Camden stumbles out of the living room and takes one look at my disheveled appearance.
My ears ring when she screeches, “Did that big jerk hurt you?”
I see fire flash through my friend’s eyes a second before she turns to the rest of the bride tribe. “Get him.”
In the heat of the moment, I turn and rush out, letting my six totally plastered best friends have at the stripper who just trampled my heart. I’m not sure who I’m more mad at—him for making me feel these crazy emotions or me for letting my heart get me into this mess.