Page 53 of Under One Roof

I nod. “It’s been difficult for me to be open. I’ve always made excuses with boyfriends to avoid it, and they’ve always broken up with me because of it. The one who I actually felt good enough to go to bed with told me it was my fault I couldn’t come. I was the one bad at sex. So I basically gave up on it altogether, which was easy to do when I worked for Ryder.”

Griffin moves his fingers to my hair, gripping it to keep me in place as he leans back, putting a few inches between us. I can feel the tension in his body, the controlled anger. When he finally speaks, his voice is low, steady, his words firm, unyielding. “You are a strong, intelligent woman who deserves to be treated with respect and kindness.”

“I know.” A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. “I know that now.”

“Good.” He pulls me to him. “Give me these lips.”

I speak my reply against his mouth. “Yes, Captain.”

Chapter18

Griffin

When I wake, my bedroom is mostly still dark as usual because of my curtains. What is unusual is the petite woman next to me. She’s nestled against my chest, her breath warm on my skin. My arm under her neck is half asleep, but I’m not going anywhere. I’d lose all feeling in my extremities before I moved.

Andi’s revelation last night about her parents plays on a loop in my mind. The thought of anyone hurting her, especially those who should have protected her, stirs a fierce protectiveness within me. I want to shield her from the world, from anything that might cause her pain, and I reflexively hold her tighter. After pressing a kiss to the top of her head, I stroke my fingertips over her temple, sliding a few loose pieces of hair behind her ear.

She rouses, first with a flutter of her lashes and then a slight tightening of her muscles before she stretches and yawns. She tilts her head back to look at me, eyes all soft and hazy and utterly fucking adorable.

“Morning,” she mumbles, and I trace her lips with my thumb.

“Morning.”

“What time is it?”

I briefly pull away from her to grab my watch from the nightstand and buckle it around my wrist. “Quarter to eight.”

“But since the kids aren’t here, we don’t have to get up, right?”

Her smile is hopeful, and while I’m not usually one to laze around in bed all day, I couldn’t be paid to get up right now. Instead, I roll to my side and curl my arms around her. She snuggles back against me, her ass against my thighs, and while my cock likes it, I don’t intend to make any moves for anything beyond this.

At some point late last night—after we talked more about Andi’s parents and her grandmother, her childhood in Texas, and she finally divulged how my devil children tried to torment her—she slipped one of my T-shirts over her head, and I put my underwear back on to go to sleep. She said she’s just not comfortable sleeping naked.

Which is perfectly acceptable.

Especially when what she does want is to be held like this. To have me roll locks of her hair between my fingers. To trace the contours of her body with my fingertips until she giggles. Her favorite thing, though, is a hand massage. I started doing it mindlessly, pressing my thumb and index finger into different spots on her hand while we talked, but as soon as I stopped, she simply held up her other hand and pouted.

I couldn’t say no.

Obviously.

My girl gets what she wants.

So, I massaged her other hand too, this time with more effort. And the moan she let out was what led to me putting on another condom and telling her to get on top. It took a while for her to let go and figure out what she liked, but she eventually got there, riding me like a fucking champ.

It was a long night. A long and perfect night. So, I shut out thoughts of what this all means for us and my kids. I don’t think about the future or how she may or may not feel about me. Instead, I dust kisses on her ear and neck and shoulder before laying my head on the pillow behind her, closing my eyes to sleep for a little while longer.

We get about twenty minutes before Cat leaps up onto the bed, meowing and stepping all over Andi. She laughs, nuzzling him. “Yeah, I know. I’m in the wrong bed. Were you looking for me?”

He paws at her, almost like he’s answering in the affirmative, and she strokes his back.

“Sorry, I’ll make you breakfast. No need to get sassy with me.”

“Let him starve,” I grumble as she rises, walking away from me. She shoots me a baleful look over her shoulder, but it quickly melts into a smile. One that’s solidly in my top five. The playful one that she always tries to stop from growing by biting into her lower lip. It never works.

Much to my satisfaction.

“Come on,” she says with a wave to me. “I’ll make you breakfast too.”

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