“Is that what you prefer? Just friends?” he whispers in a voice that’s deep and laced with sex.
“I don’t know. Depends on the definition.”
“Are there multiple definitions for friends?”
I lick my lips and release a steady, but shaky breath. “Yes.”
Seemingly ignoring my answer, he gently touches the back of my neck. “You have a beauty mark back here. It’s lovely.”
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Be all… you… when we’re talking about something important. We both know this is make believe, right? How do we stop our bodies from thinking otherwise?”
“We’re adults, correct?”
“Adults who have made very clear choices. We even went so far as to write them down.”
His arm slides around my waist, pulling me into his body. “Contracts are always open for negotiation.” Griffin places a couple of extremely soft kisses on the apple of my cheek. “I would very much like to kiss you again. You know…practice makes perfect and all that.”
I don’t give him the yes I know he wants. Not because I don’t want to, but because I don’t think I could have formed even that simple of a word. My fingers thread through the hair at the base of his neck and I pull him to my lips. I could get drunk off the taste of him.
It’s soft, at first. You could even say it’s demure compared to our first kiss on the sidewalk less than an hour ago, but it doesn’t stay that way for very long.
I turn so we are face-to-face, never breaking contact, and he lays his large, strong hand on the small of my back and pulls me closer until I’m flush against him.
I part my lips, inviting him in deeper. His tongue dances with mine in such a way that one would think we’ve done this together every day for our entire lives.
He shifts his body until one of his knees slips between my thighs, effectively pinning me to the counter with his large frame. I can’t stop the small moan from escaping my throat at the pressure being placed just so.
This is moving so fast, and I can feel myself pressing on the accelerator. I’ve never felt so drunk on another human before. It’s dangerous in more ways than one.
So, I do the hardest thing I’ve done in a long time by placing my hands on his chest and giving him a little push.
“Wait, wait,” I say, panting. “We can’t.”
He pushes a stray hair from my face before cupping my jaw in his hand and simply stares at me for a beat before nodding. “You’re right, we shouldn’t.” He drops his forehead to mine. “You taste so good though.”
I smile. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
He kisses the tip of my nose before backing up, putting a few feet between us. I’m suddenly aware of how warm he was making me. There’s a chill in the air with the loss of our connection.
“I should go,” he says, motioning toward the door, just as the tea kettle begins to whistle.
“Can I make you a cup of tea to go? It’s the least I can do. Don’t want to let that perfectly boiled New York City tap water go wasted.”
“Now, that would be a travesty. I’d love that, thank you.”
He crosses his arms over his chest, and I can feel his eyes on me the entire time I move throughout the kitchen. It only takes a few minutes, then I’m handing him a pink, sparkly insulated to-go cup I bought from a local coffee shop a few months ago. “All set.”
“This is a terrible substitute, but I thank you.” Griffin clears his throat softly. “I’ll pick you up around five thirty tomorrow. I can give you the briefing on what to expect then. Have something you’d like to wear?”
“Shit. No, actually, I don’t. Not unless you count a decade’s old prom dress or a short velvet thing I wore to the office Christmas party last year.”
“As much as I’d like to see this short velvet thing, maybe you’d like to go shopping?”
“Now you’re buying me clothes? Griffin, I don’t know.”