Page 24

CHAPTER 24

CHRISTINE

“ Y ou’re so strong,” I coo, combing my fingertips through the short hair on the back of his head as he barrels up the stairs and into his bedroom. My legs unwrap from his hips and he sets me down.

“You’re light as a feather,” he tells me, his fingers plucking at the hem of my sweatshirt before he drags it over my head. Tossing the garment aside, his dark gaze lowers to my breasts while his fingers trace the scalloped edges of my lacy blue bra. “All night, I’ve wanted to get my hands on you. I thought I would lose my mind before we were alone again.”

“Me too,” I confess, raising the hem of his shirt. He takes over, pulling it over his head, revealing his muscular chest and chiseled stomach. I’m helpless to stop myself from running my fingers along his six pack. His warm skin is soft over the defined ridges.

His hands land on either side of my waist, then slowly skim upward. My next exhale releases with a shudder as he palms my breasts, sweeping his thumbs back and forth over my nipples.

“Christ, you make me forget how to breathe,” he says huskily.

My gaze glides over every inch of his golden torso while my hands continue their exploration. “You do the same to me.”

Griffin shakes his head. “You have no idea how powerfully you affect me. I don’t think you can.” His lips find mine, and our chests press together, the thin lace of my bra the only barrier between us. His arms circle my waist and his fingertips stroke up and down my spine, eliciting a shiver. Our mouths still connected, he sweeps me off my feet and places me in the middle of the bed, settling on top of me. The heavy pressure of his erection between my legs makes my clit throb and has me squirming against the thick length.

His lips skim across mine as he shifts lower, burying his face in the curve of my neck. As his tongue paints a fiery trail over my sensitive skin, I tip my head back and moan with pleasure. “Yes.”

“Oh, I’m just getting started,” he tells me, his lips and teeth nibbling across one of my collarbones. I grip his head as he pauses, dipping his tongue into the hollow at the base of my neck. My fingers dig into his hair, the thick strands catching between them as he moves to my other collarbone. Hands slipping beneath me, he locates the clasp of my bra, unhooking it in record time. Sliding the garment down my arms, he tosses it over his shoulder.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs, cupping my breasts in his large palms and squeezing.

Reaching between us, my fingers feel uncoordinated as I maneuver them under the waistband of his shorts and boxer briefs before pushing them lower on his lean hips. Griffin takes over, shoving them the rest of the way down before he swiftly kicks them free.

Next up are my leggings, which he strips off me with the speed of The Flash himself. I expect my underwear to get the same treatment but he pauses, kneeling between my legs, staring down at me with reverent scrutiny. My heart pounds wildly with anticipation as he runs a fingertip over the tiny scrap of lace between my legs.

“You’re so wet for me… so fucking sexy.” He slowly peels away the last remaining barrier between us. A heated flush of longing assails every inch of me. Need takes hold, and I restlessly slide my heels against the comforter beneath me.

“Hold still.” His deep command halts my movements, turning me on even more. I’ve never been bossed around in bed by anyone else but I love when Griffin does it. He has the alpha male authenticity needed to pull it off.

When we’re both finally naked, his hands glide from my ankles to my thighs, spreading a trail of goose bumps across my skin. He pushes my legs wider as he kneels between them. “Every inch of you is goddamn perfect.” His fingers explore my most intimate area with gentle, teasing caresses. “How did I get so lucky?” he asks, his gaze dark with desire.

“Griffin,” I whisper, hips raising in encouragement, unable to remain still despite his command. I want to feel his weight on me, pressing me down into the mattress before he slides inside me. God, I need that so much.

“Please.” I reach out to touch him, but he grips my wrists, pinning my arms above my head with one of his hands.

He shakes his head, lowering his face to hover above mine. “Good things come to those who wait,” he murmurs, rubbing his nose along the side of mine. “All day, I’ve been thinking about getting you naked and what I’m going to do to you.”

“What’s that?” I ask.

He brushes his lips over mine in a whisper-soft kiss. “You’ll be the first to know.” His teeth flash, reminding me of a hungry wolf. His free hand slipping between us, I feel the back of his knuckles graze my stomach and then trail lower. Fingers dipping between my thighs, he finds me slick and ready. He groans, briefly delving one finger inside me before he raises it to his lips, sucking it clean. “Mmm, you taste like you belong to me.”

“I do,” I say.

His eyes going feral, he releases my wrists and then latches his mouth onto one of my nipples. His tongue swirls around the outer edge before he sucks on the hard peak. When he shifts to the other breast, I thread my fingers through his hair and tug until he raises his head.

“I want you.” I pull on the strands again.

“Tell me what you want.”

“You inside me. Right now.” Raising my hips, I rock against him. “Please. I can’t wait any longer.” I feel like I’ve been waiting for this moment all my life.

Bracing his weight on a forearm, he reaches between his legs and rubs his erection back and forth between my lips. Once he’s coated in my juices, he presses the tip to my entrance and painstakingly pushes into me. There’s a burning sensation every time he draws back and moves farther inside.

He groans. “You’re so warm and tight. I’m in Heaven.”

After the fourth or fifth thrust, he slides the rest of the way in, making me gasp.

“Are you okay?” he asks, looking concerned.

“I’m good. You’re just a lot to take.”

“In more ways than one.” He winks.

Isn’t that the truth.

He tentatively rocks into me, watching my face for any sign of pain. When all he finds is pleasure, he begins to move more confidently.

Wrapping my legs around his hips, I hold on tightly, savoring our new connection. I never want this moment to end.

Griffin’s possessive gaze follows his hands as they roam over my torso with urgency. Tenderly cupping my breasts, his thumbs flick over my nipples. His hands stroke downward, palms mapping out the curve of my hips, then finally slipping beneath my shoulders and hauling me closer—as if we can’t possibly be close enough.

“You… feel… incredible,” he grits out through clenched teeth.

“You too.” I barely get the words out. Each stroke sends pleasure rippling through me. Every fiber of my being is supercharged, as if I’m more alive than I’ve ever been.

Leaning closer, he shifts the angle slightly, hitting a sensitive spot inside me that has my back lifting off the bed.

“Yes.” I clutch his arms, feeling the strength in his flexed muscles.

Like longtime lovers, we move together, as if we’re familiar with each other’s bodies. As if we’ve done this dance many times before and maybe even perfected it.

He captures my mouth in a tongue-clashing kiss while maintaining the rhythm of his hip thrusting, and my senses are overwhelmed by the intensity. When he slips his hand between us, the pads of his fingers circling my throbbing clit, I feel as though I may explode. Or at the very least, my brain might short circuit from pleasure overload. Whimpering into his mouth, I hold on tightly as a sense of urgency builds like a rising tide I have no control over.

Griffin increases the pace of his thrusts, the muscles in his neck standing out in bold relief.

“Griffin.” Thighs trembling, I gasp his name.

“Let go for me,” he husks.

His fingers keep the same pace as his hips, sending my release firing through me. He immediately follows me over the edge, moaning my name as his body tenses above me. When every wave of his orgasm has passed, he rolls to the side, pulling me into his arms as we catch our breath. With a possessive hand resting on one of my ass cheeks and the other wrapped around my back, I lie here feeling sated and happy.

“That was something,” Griffin says, breaking the silence.

Raising my head from his chest, I stare down at him and smile. “Sex has never been that good for me.”

“I think you mean making love,” he corrects, the corner of his mouth curving. “That’s what we just did.”

I nod. “You’re right. It was amazing.”

His fingertips absentmindedly trace unknown patterns on my back as he stares into my eyes. “You’re so damn incredible. Lately, I find myself questioning what I did to deserve a wonderful woman like you, and every time I come up with the same answer: I don’t.” I open my mouth to reply, and he shakes his head. “I may not deserve you, but I’m going to make sure I earn your love every single day we spend together. I love you, Christine.”

“Really?” I reflexively blurt out the question.

“Fuck yes. I love you so much it scares me.”

My eyes blur, obscuring his handsome face. I blink away the tears until my vision is once again clear. “I love you too, Griffin. So much that it scares me too.”

A slow, encouraging smile spreads across his mouth. “We’ll just have to conquer our fears together.”

“It’s a nice day for a football game,” Bert says as we make our way down the cement stairs.

“It’s warmer than usual too,” my mom points out.

Glancing around the stadium, I see fans from both teams filing toward their seats, but the Silverbacks’ red and black are the predominant colors.

Bert stops at our row, and my mom ushers me in before the two of them follow. I’m about to take my seat when someone taps me on the shoulder. Spinning around, I find Scarlett and Autumn sitting in the next row up.

“Hey!” Scarlett says, leaning forward to hug me. When she releases me, Autumn leans in for a quick squeeze.

“How are you doing now that school started?” Scarlett asks.

I lower into my seat and turn sideways to see them. “It’s been terrific so far. I’m enjoying my classes. What about you two?”

“Work’s been busy with the lead up to this week’s game,” Autumn answers first.

“I bet there’s a lot of interesting stuff to post about, though,” I say.

Autumn nods. “That’s for sure.”

“How’s the podcast going?” I ask Scarlett.

“Great, thanks. Viewership is growing weekly.”

“That’s great news.”

My mom tugs on my sleeve. “Are you going to introduce us?”

“Oh, sorry.” I quickly give the introductions between the four of them.

“How did you all meet?” Bert asks.

“Griffin had a New Year’s Eve party,” I explain.

My mom raises her eyebrows. “And you went?”

Scarlett titters. “Autumn and I didn’t give her a choice. We pretty much forced her downstairs.”

“After making me change my clothes first,” I add.

My mom grins. “Sounds like you two are just the kind of friends my daughter needs.”

“If you mean pushy ones, then yes,” Scarlett jokes.

“I prefer to use the word persistent,” Autumn says.

Bert waves his hand, as if he’d like us to stop talking. “They’re about to announce the teams.”

We look in the direction of the tunnel as the Silverbacks players jog out. The energy is electric as the fans cheer the team’s arrival.

“I see him,” my mom calls out.

I crane my head, but I can’t see past her. I lean so far forward, I’m at the point of falling out of my seat when I finally see number nineteen. He stands so tall and his shoulders are so broad. My heart races behind my rib cage from a combination of nerves and excitement as I send out a quick plea to the universe that he’ll have a successful game.

“I’m going to lose my mind before the game starts,” Autumn complains.

“Why?” I ask.

She wraps her arms across her stomach. “I’m so anxious for Rogan.”

“Try not to worry,” I say. But who am I kidding? I’m in the same situation she is, but with my mom and Bert here, I can’t outwardly express my concern.

By the time the game starts, Autumn looks like a wreck. She’s pale and her hair is mussed from running her fingers through it. Scarlett places her hand on Autumn’s knee that’s been bouncing at an alarming pace for the last five minutes. “Breathe,” she reminds her. “It’s going to be fine.” She smiles reassuringly, and Autumn nods.

Their opponents win the coin toss, opting to kick off and for the Silverbacks to receive the ball. We watch their starting offense take the field.

“He looks good out there,” my mom says, turning to me.

I nod, trying not to show how invested I am. “The team looks sharp.” Sharp? I say the first word that comes to mind, but as far as my mom is concerned it fits. She isn’t aware I’ve been attending his games and have learned some of the rules.

The Silverbacks’ punt returner runs the ball to the thirty yard line before being brought down. “Not bad,” Bert says.

I spread the blanket Griffin gave me over my legs and clasp my hands on top, holding it in place as the teams line up again.

I hear Rogan shouting before the ball gets snapped. He hands off the ball to the running back, who advances another five yards.

“Good. Now it’s time for a throw,” Bert says, reminding me of every other armchair coach watching this game.

The next play has Rogan throwing the ball to Griffin for a gain of fifteen yards and the first down, but he gets knocked down after. Fighting a wince at how hard he landed, I roll my lips inward and press them together. He bounces up to his feet and walks over to his teammates as they get in the huddle.

“That defensive line has some big boys on it,” Bert mutters to my mom. “They better protect Rogan.”

“Oh God,” Autumn murmurs, and I know she heard him. I send a conciliatory smile her way. “He’s doing well.”

“He is,” Scarlett agrees.

Rogan carefully watches the defense across from them. After the count and snap, he drops back into the pocket, but with two defenders rushing toward him, he pivots, darting away from them. He finds Cooper as he breaks free from his defender. Drawing his arm back, he releases the pigskin with a perfect throw that seems to magically drop into Cooper’s hands. These guys make everything look deceivingly easy. Cooper continues running, gaining an additional five yards, which makes the fans shout their approval.

Scarlett lets out a whoop. “That’s my man.”

They line up again, and my gaze zeroes in on Griffin. I can’t make out what Rogan shouts, but as soon as the ball is snapped, Griffin takes off like he’s been shot from a cannon. Rogan throws a bomb downfield that makes us all gasp. Griffin dodges one defender as he runs, and barely avoids another trying to get his hands on him. I suck in a sharp inhale when there’s a moment I’m uncertain he’ll be able to make the catch. Arms outstretched, he gets his fingertips on the football before securing it against his chest and running into the end zone.

I scream and jump to my feet. So much for hiding my excitement. But every other fan is doing the same, so no one notices. And while I can’t shout it out like I want, I’m definitely thinking— that’s my man .