Page 82 of Lessons in Heartbreak

His eyes fixed on mine, color rising in his cheeks. “Lately? I think about you on my lap, baby.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah,” he groaned. “Wanna see that soon, pretty girl. Want to see you scream while I’m underneath you. Want to feel you fall apart when I’m inside you. Want that so fucking bad, even if I shouldn’t.”

The imagery, with his guttural, demanding voice narrating it, had me letting out a shaky breath. Maybe I was in over my head, but there was no way I was backing out of this now.

I wanted it. So I was going to do it.

I wantedhim. So badly that I was trembling.

Our hands moved faster, and he sucked in a sharp breath. “Ruby,” he growled, “that’s it, baby.”

Griffin tipped back his head as he let out a low groan and came over our joined fingers. I stared down in awe, watching while he slowed the movement of our hands and worked himself through the last pulses of his pleasure.

He let out a shocked laugh, staring at me like he’d never seen me before. “Holy shit, Ruby Tate. You just blew my fucking mind with that one.”

I grinned, and he ducked down for a hot, searing kiss. When he pulled back, my head was spinning again.

“You’re trouble, you know that?” he whispered. We kissed again, luxurious and slow. “You just keep making me want more.”

The way he said it had me studying his face. At first, I couldn’t even pinpoint what I’d heard. Reluctance, maybe, and a hint of resignation.

“I’m guessing you don’t want me to return the favor while we’re out here,” he said, lips brushing mine softly.

Breathing out a laugh, I shook my head. “No. I just wanted to do that for you,” I told him.

He hissed in a breath. “Baby, you keep saying stuff like that, and I’ll have to give you one anyway.”

My breath was coming in short pants. “It’s okay, really.”

Griffin kissed me again—lingering and dirty and the kind of kiss that started things, not ended them. His hand slipped underneath my shirt, and he pulled back to watch my face while he dragged his thumb over the front of my sports bra. “I bet I could slip my hand right between your legs and have you moaning without laying a single finger on your pretty little—”

I slapped my hand over his mouth, and his eyes twinkled. “Later,” I told him. “Show me later. Now, maybe we should figure out how to clean each other up.”

I held up the other hand with a wry arch of my eyebrow, and Griffin’s muffled laugh behind my hand made me smile. He licked my palm, and I removed my hand with a scoff.

“Hold on,” he said, sliding off the car and tugging his pants back into place. He popped the trunk and fished out his gym bag, jogging back around to the front of the car to cradle my hand in his while he cleaned it off with a small white towel.

“Well, that’s handy,” I said primly, because watching him clean his own mess off my fingers was giving me a slight out-of-body experience. “Didn’t know you’d packed for a night out.”

He laughed. “Oh, we’re not gonna be gone overnight. We’re going to the gym.”

My brow furrowed. “What gym?”

Griffin kissed me again, smacking me firmly on the ass as he pulled away. “Team facilities. Team doctor and head trainer are meeting us there.” With a wince, he glanced at his watch. “We’ll be late at this point. I’m sure they won’t mind.”

My mouth hung open. “What?”

“Your fault,” he said smoothly. “I did not havehand job in the parking loton the itinerary, but I’ll leave it up to you if you want to tell them that or not.”

I fixed him with a glare, and he laughed again.

“Come on, birdy. We’ve got another forty-five minutes until we get there. You keep glaring at me like that, and we’ll have another problem on our hands.”

“You are impossible,” I told him, sliding back into the car.

Griffin grinned, carefree and wind-blown and staggeringly handsome, as the car engine roared back to life. “Don’t I know it, Ruby.”

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