Page 17 of Tan Lines & Trouble
He chuckles, which only makes me angrier. "Time and time again."
"Somehow that doesn't surprise me."
"We can stand here and bicker or we can figure out these rules you're so fond of.
Scowling, I cross my arms over my chest, not missing the way his eyes immediately drop to my cleavage. Instinct has me wanting to drop my arms but I refuse to give him the satisfaction.
"Fine." I hold up one finger. "First rule: clothing isnotoptional." I look pointedly at him, my eyes snagging on his bare chest as he drags a hand down from his collarbone all the way across every ridge of his abs.
As if I'm in a trance my eyes follow that movement like a hawk until he reaches down and pops the waistband of his swim trunks against his tanned skin. "I am dressed."
"Hardly," I scoff, far more upset about falling for his tricks than I am his state of undress.
"But it counts." He shrugs and leans his shoulders back against the stucco wall, looking calm as ever.
"Rule two, no hookups."
He snaps to attention. "Now, hold on...that's a little extreme. How about no hookups in the room? What we do elsewhere really shouldn't matter, right?"
Something inside of me twinges at the thought of him getting down and dirty with someone else while I most likely sit here and wallow, but I shove that feeling deep, deep down.
"Fine." I hate the hint of bitterness seeping into my voice. I wasn't like this before Blake, but finding him getting his dick sucked...and well, let's just say Bianca swallowed my perpetual optimism down, right along with Blake's load.
"Anything else?" Griffin sounds so amused that I will myself to relax. To not let this little hiccup ruin my trip.
"Yes. No flirting."
"Vague again, Blue." He shakes his head and pushes off of the wall. "No flirting with who? With the hot little thing I might meet at the bar tonight or do you mean with you? Only one of those is reasonable, baby doll."
"You're insufferable," I mutter, instead of telling him he's right. Asking him not to flirt withanyoneis unreasonable, but still. His ego already seems inflated; there's no sense in me adding any extra air.
"What was that?" he asks, stepping closer.
Even in the limited space of our suite, he prowls toward me, like a predator on the hunt. He's all sinewy muscle and golden skin, long lines and kissable lips.
I take a step backwards, and the backs of my knees hit the bed. I collapse down onto the feather-soft mattress, leaning back onto my elbows for support, trying to look unaffected, like I meant to sit down rather than fall.
He doesn't stop until I'm flat on my back with his knees bracketing my legs and he's leaning over me, with one hand planted against the soft mattress next to my head. We're almost nose-to-nose, and I think I've forgotten how to breathe. "Griffin," I squeak and he grins.
"I've got a rule for you," he murmurs, his voice silky soft, like he's not pinning me, a virtual stranger, down to the bed.
I gulp. "Oh-okay."
"No name-calling and no fighting. If we're at one another's throats the entire time, we won't have any fun." The way he says fun sends a pulse of lust straight to my core. This man is trouble with a capital 'T.'
"Agreed." I nod and our noses brush. Something about his nearness sends a flood of arousal through me; it's like he has lust pheromones leaking from his every pore. That along with the fact that Blake didn't want to touch me with a ten-foot pole and somehow, I've gone from wanting to punch him to wanting to ride him.This is not good."Can you...back up? Please?"
He unplants his hand and strokes his fingers lazily over the blue locks of my hair before booping me on the nose. As he stands, I can't help but notice the bulge in his trunks. Looks like this little encounter affected him the same way it did me.
"Wanna hit the pool?" he asks conversationally.
"Um." I swallow, my eyes darting down to his junk again. He catches me and flexes his hips ever so slightly. "Yeah, sure. Yes. Let's go."
I stand up and head for the door. "Blue," he calls my name, humor lacing his tone.
"Yeah?"
"You might want to change into your swimsuit. I mean, unless leggings and a tank are your usual pool attire.” He throws his hands up, palms out. “No judgment here."
