Page 96 of Stick It
To touch himself while his teammates touch me.
To get himself off while they are gettingmeoff.
My fingers slide through the wetness gathered amongst my folds, and I pretend it’s Jax’s hand as I push inside. His thick fingers, rough with callouses and oh-so talented, driving me higher up the peak.
Beneath their ministrations and Ethan’s hot stare, I soar.
Tap. Tap.
“Dylan.” Griffin’s voice is guttural in my ear, and I clench around Jax’s fingers as they pump into me, making me moan.
Tap. Tap.
“Dylan!” Something about Griffin’s tone slides through my fantasy. I jolt upright, hand still buried between my legs as I blink back into my empty bedroom.
Tap. Tap.
Rapping against the window startles me, and I damn near fall out of the bed at the sight of a figure perched on the ledge outside. Griffin paints a stoic picture, dressed all in black with the moonlight glinting off his sweep of blond hair and piercing eyes boring into me.
For a moment, all I can do is stare at him, unsure as to whether what I’m seeing is real or if I’m actually dreaming now.
“Let me in, Hurricane!”
I throw off the bedsheets and hurry to slide open the window. “What do you think you’re doing?” I chastise. “You could fall and hurt yourself.”
The idiot flashes me one of those boyish grins of his. “I knew you cared about me.”
God, if those devilishly good looks don’t immediately remind me of what I was doing before he so rudely interrupted.
I scoff, “Please, I don’t need any more reason for anyone on the team to hate me—which is exactly what would happen if you broke your leg attempting to climb inmywindow.” Despite my words, I move aside so he can step into my room.
Except, it’s only when his boots are planted on the ground and his intoxicating presence has infiltrated the air that I realize what a huge mistake that was. Now, Griffin Price is in my bedroom, seeming larger than life as he takes up far more space than any human has a right to, and I’m suddenly realizing how little clothing I have on.
He notices too. His gaze turns predatory as he drinks me in like I’m a tall glass of cold water and it’s the height of summer. I go to step back, to put space between us, but I’m too slow. He catches my wrist, nostrils flaring as he brings my hand to his face.
“What filth are you up to in here, Little Steelhawk?”
He drags my fingers beneath his nose, eyes closing as he inhales. I should be embarrassed. Should be pulling my hand from his grip. But for some disturbing reason, the whole thing only turns me on more. Perhaps it’s Griffin’s desperate groan, or the hunger that turns his eyes a steely gray, or the possessive hold he has on my wrist. Whatever it is, it does it for me.
I lose all common sense. All rational thought is caught up in a gust of wind and driven straight out the open window, leaving nothing but my primed body and my dirty thoughts behind.
He steps into me, the hard planes of his body pressing against mine as he drives me backward. On bare feet, I backtrack across my room, unable to look away from Griffin’s shadowed expression. My arm is wedged between us, his grip on my wrist firm and unrelenting, like it’s the only thing grounding him. All that’s stopping him from going absolutely feral.
The backs of my legs hit the mattress before I fall onto the bed. Griffin comes with me, his body folding at the waist so he’s leaning over me. Every cell in my body buzzes with awareness. My core clenches, need gathering between my thighs.
“Finish yourself off.”
“W-what?”
Bringing my hand to his mouth, he runs his tongue along my fingers. “Don’t play coy, Hurricane. You spent all night squirming like you were left sitting in wet panties. Now, I want to watch while you finally give your body what it’s been begging for.”
His breath fans over my skin as he brings his face closerwhile lowering my hand between us. His fingers cup mine as he lays them over my damp panties. He gives me a knowing look. “I want to taste how sweet you are before I stretch this wet little pussy and mark you as mine.”
My breathing hitches.
“What if I don’t want to be yours?”
Through some sort of miracle, I manage to keep the blatant desire I feel for him out of my voice.
