Page 42 of Gripp

She quickened her pace, not bothering to take it slow. He was close, and she could tell from his eyes that he was trying to hold on.

April bent low, running her tongue over his tip.

"Fuck!" Gripp grabbed her hips. "Oh, fuck, April!"

She slid his cock into her mouth, taking him deep into her throat. She sucked, feeling his fingers tighten painfully on her hips.

Then, she hummed. She'd heard about it before and decided to try. Gripp growled, and she felt him come in her quicker than ever before.

She swallowed, giving him a final suck before she slid herself back. Gripp's eyes were wide, and he looked at her in shock. She wiped at her mouth and smirked.

"I think we’re both ready for bed." Gripp grabbed her and kissed her, pulling her against his chest.

"Fuck." he said, pulling her tightly. "You’re amazing."

TWENTY-THREE

APRIL

April couldn’t stop musing about how attracted she was to Gripp. The thoughts were like gentle petals in her mind, stroking over bad memories of mediocre men and clearing away any and every form of hesitation she had previously had about diving into the dating pool.

Though, walking through the forest and running from stray bullets wasn’t exactly dating. She had been attracted to him physically right off the bat, even though he didn’t seem very warm to her. Then their attraction was enhanced after having wild, indulgent sex multiple times, which became even more intense after getting to know each other.

So in some ways, it felt like dating beyond the savior aspect of their interactions.

She had been with other men, physically and emotionally, but no one had ever made her feel like a powerful, sexy goddess the way Gripp did. Every time he approached her with that hungry look in his eyes, she knew she was the only woman that he ever wanted to touch.

It made her feel like she could fly.

She moved through the forest, thinking about lovely things as Gripp walked near her casually. Every now and then, he would check on her, stroking her shoulders or lower back, with a light in his eyes that made her knees weak.

She wondered how much of her thinking was fantasy. The hypnotic effect of his stare was captivating, so that surely must mean something more than a few good fucks in the jungle.

Gripp could be so tender and caring, yet he hadn’t expressed any desire outside of the context of their chance meeting. April let her mind drift as they fell into an easy silence, both of them exhausted from the night before.

She imagined him standing at the end of an aisle, wearing a tuxedo. She saw him holding a child in his big arms,theirchild, holding it up in the silhouette of the sun. She saw them sitting in the yard while multiple children played, the two of them holding hands for eternity.

Would that be the life he wanted with her? Did he even want it at all?

The man was a mercenary and had been in a federal prison until recently, for Christ’s sake. Why would he be thinking about a family with the random journalist he’s saving in the jungle?

But an even bigger question popped into her mind like a giant bubble. Was settling down with a husband and children what she wanted?

It was something that her parents had pushed onto her during her entire existence and something that she had actively rebelled against. She had longed for adventure, for alternate perspectives, and to make a difference in the world when it came to seeking the truth.

Would she really leave that to have children with a man she had just met?

April’s mind was a carousel blasting through space and time. It had become so vivid that she didn’t notice the snake on the path before her. She moved at a good lick and stepped directly near its head, causing it to lash forward and sink its teeth into the exposed flesh just above her sock line.

“Fuck!”

April stumbled backward as her voice echoed in the dim. Gripp immediately halted and grabbed hold of her forearms, catching her with an alarmed look on his face.

“What happened?” he demanded.

She glanced down to see the snake looking up at her, almost smug. She squinted and realized that its head was rounded, and its pattern of shades indicated that it wasn’t venomous. She was thankful for that, but the wound still managed to sting like a hot poker.

“I stepped on that bastard,” April said, pointing. “It’s not venomous, though.”

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