Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
MARLEY
My phone pings next to my bed two days later while I’m doing my best not to throw the book I’m reading across the room. The pinging noise catches my attention as the idiot hero in my book makes a fool of himself and hurts the heroine’s feelings for the umpteenth time. I don’t know what it is about the dang thing that keeps me engrossed in it, but I keep on reading, waiting to get to the good part where the hero will get his head out of his ass.
Setting my book down next to me, I reach out and snag my phone to see who on earth would be texting me this late at night. It might be a Friday night, but still it was late. Everyone I know, knows better than to call me so late and that I really hate texting.
Glancing at the screen, I don’t recognize the number right off.
Opening it, I can’t help the grin that forms. It’s Griz. He did exactly what he said he’d do and found my number, but instead of calling, he decided to text me.
Unknown: Told you, challenge accepted, sweets. Wasn’t too hard to get your number.
Me: It only took you two days, amateur.
I quickly save his number to my contacts and drop my phone down next to me.
Giggling, I grab my book and read one line before my phone pings again. Rather than just setting the book aside, I grab my bookmark, save the page I’m on, and set my book on the nightstand. Scooching down in my bed, I curl up under my blanket and pick up my phone to see what Griz has to say.
I can’t help but laugh at his response.
Griz: Amateur, my ass. Sweets, I had your number within thirty minutes of leaving your delectable self at the diner.
Seriously?
Me: And it took you two days to get around to messaging me?
Figuring I’ll be up awhile with this, I grab the TV remote and find something to watch. I settle on a crime documentary when my phone pings.
I glance at the screen to read his message.
Griz: Was dealing with some things for the club. Wanted to have time when I sent you a message.
Hmmm . . . Interesting.
Me: And why’s that?
There’s a knock at my door as the phone pings yet again.
I furrow my brow as I get out of bed and look at the screen.
Griz: Answer the door and I’ll tell you.
Oh my . . . holy mother butter balls.
Graham ‘Griz’ Holland was standing at my front door, and I was wearing nothing more than a dang oversized North Carolina State jersey and a pair of panties. Panties, I might add, are nothing more than a scrap of material.
Oh boy. This isn’t good. It’s a very bad idea. Very bad.
My phone pings again, and I look at the screen that is still unlocked.
Griz: Are you coming? Or do I just camp out here like a lost dog?
Laughing, I shake my head, toss my phone onto the nightstand, and take a breath.
Here goes nothing.
I make my way out of my room through the little house to the door. Unlocking it, I squeeze the doorknob a little tighter than I probably should and draw it open just enough to see Griz standing on my small porch, that sexy grin of his in place.
“You gonna let me in?”
“I’m debating on that one,” I tell him, knowing I’m going to let him in. But I can’t not play first. “What makes you think I’d let you in my home? Do I look like the type that would just let someone in my house? For all I know, you’re a serial killer in disguise.”
Griz chuckles and holds his hands out to his sides. “Think I’m the type who could be considered a serial killer?”
I slowly rake my gaze over him, memorizing every last inch of the man standing at my door.
“I don’t know. Did anyone think Ted Bundy was a serial killer? Or even better, Countess Elizabeth Bathory?
“Who the fuck isCountess Elizabeth Bathory?”
The way his brows draw up and his lips twitch.
“She was a Hungarian noblewoman who was related to a King of Poland. Elizabeth Bathory was accused of killing over six hundred victims. Granted, there are also claims that it was closer to two hundred and fifty, but she’d written down the names. There’s no known exact number of kills. The woman was known as the Bloody Countess, and she holds the record in the Guinness World Book for being the most prolific female killer.”
Griz blinks, and then blinks again, following this up with a shake of his head. “Sweets, where the fuck do you come up with this shit?”
“I read a lot. Plus, I love crime documentaries.” I shrug, shift the door open again, and motion for him to come in as I continue. “For instance,Countess Elizabeth Bathory did most of her killings after she was widowed and dripped honey on the bodies of her victims to attract insects. Then, in the colder months, she’d put them in ice baths. That’s not even the worst of it. She’d torture her victims by driving needles in their fingers, cutting their noses and lips. She’d bite them, and the most messed-up part of all is she’d burn their flesh, sometimes burned their genitals.”
“And I’m gonna stop you right there, sweets,” he says, stepping into the house and closing the door. “I think I might have nightmares now, wondering if you’ll be the nextCountess Elizabeth Bathory with all the information you know about her.”
“Well, I did do a research paper on her while in high school,” I explain, like it wasn’t that big of a deal.
Griz stares at me like I’ve got two heads for all of a second before he notices what I’m wearing. “Baby, you realize you’re in Tennessee. NC State ain’t got nothing on us.”
“My brother went to NC State. He was on the football team before he blew out his knee.” I didn’t go to college there. I ended up a Hokies, which my brother thought was a disgrace, considering he was a Wolfpack.
“Good to know it’s not some other man’s jersey. I might have to rip it off of ya, sweets.”
My thighs clench involuntarily, and a shiver rushes along my spine. I like the idea of him ripping my shirt off way, way too much.
“Well, technically, it is another guy’s. I stole it from him.” Now, why did I say that?
Griz chuckles, shakes his head, and steps closer, one hand going to my hip, the other curling around my neck. “I’ll rephrase, if it were a guy you’ve fucked, I’d have to tear it off ya, sweets. I find that I’m not a fan of you wearing someone else’s clothes. The fact it’s your brother’s, that’s still somewhat borderline.”
Wow.
I didn’t know how else to take his comment.
“So, umm, what are you doing here?” I ask him. I’m sure he can hear the nerves in my voice. I’ve never felt what I’m feeling right now. Sensual and feminine. Like I was beautiful and that he wanted me. I don’t know how I know it. Maybe it’s in his touch. But the way he’s looking at me, the lustful glint in his eyes mixes with something else that I can’t put a name to.
It also doesn’t help that my own thoughts are screwing with me. This man has been screwing with my head since the first time I saw him in that garage where I had to serve him.
I don’t know what it is about him, but I find him more than a little interesting. The moment he sat across from me at the diner, I had to catch my breath from the momentary loss of it. Then he started a conversation with me, and it was easy to talk to him. I loved that he was able to make me smile.
Even better, he didn’t criticize what I decided to eat. I’m not one of those women who refuses to eat in front of a man. My momma and daddy, well, they made sure to bring me up not to be afraid to be myself or always to speak my mind. They definitely made sure I knew not to fall for a man who wasn’t going to treat me as the woman I was meant to be.
“Are you going to answer me? Or are you gonna just stare at me?”
“I was thinking more along the lines of kissing you,” he murmurs, lowering his head.
“I didn’t tell you that you could kiss me.”
Oh, please, please, please, kiss me. I want nothing more than for him to kiss me hard. Kiss me deep. Kiss me with those amazing lips. I’m betting he could kiss me so good that I’d be begging him not to stop.
“You didn’t not tell me to kiss you, sweets,” he says, his lips nearly touching mine now. “I gotta say, I’m wanting to kiss you. Been wanting to kiss you, and I’m gonna kiss you.”
Those are the only words he gives me before his lips are on mine. My own part marginally, and he takes that little bit as a way of deepening the kiss.
Oh my.
I don’t think I’ve ever been kissed so well. His tongue slides in and swirls, stroking along mine.
Griz’s arm around my waist tightens as he groans, and I moan. My arms go up and around his neck. His fingers at my neck go up and tangle in my hair.
Oh yes, yes, yes.
I don’t realize we’re moving until I find myself being lowered, my back pressing into the seat of my couch. One of Griz’s legs nudges between mine and presses right against the heat of my sex.
He moves the hand he’d had around me to my side and slides it up under my shirt.
The touch of his fingers on my bare flesh feels absolutely amazing. The better part of it is when his finger slides over the curve of my breast. His thumb strokes over my nipple, sending a tingle of sensations straight between my legs, soaking my panties all the more.
Griz rips his lips away and drops kisses along my jaw and down my neck.
“Fuck me, sweets, I can feel how wet you are for me. You’re soaking through my jeans,” he murmurs, pressing his leg more firmly against my pussy. “I’m looking forward to going down on you and fuckin’ you with my tongue. I bet you’d be just as sweet as this sweet mouth of yours.”
His lips cover mine again. Fingers join his thumb as he pinches and pulls. If not for his mouth on mine, I’d cry out from the pleasure of his touch. Instead, I moan into his mouth and writhe beneath him, grinding myself down on his leg. The friction of it against my clit is so good. More than good. But still, I need more. I want more.
Releasing my nipple, he jerks his arm out from under my shirt, only for him to yank it upward, exposing my body. A cry leaves my lips as he breaks it and pulls away enough to glance down at my chest.
“Damn, baby, your tits are a damn sight to see. Beautiful pink little buds just ready for me to suck into my mouth.” He brings his gaze to mine and lowers his head. “Want me to suck your tits, Marley?”
Yes. Yes. Yes. Oh my . . . yes. More than anything.
I don’t say any of this. Instead, I nod slowly and give him a breathing, “Yes.”
“Tell me what you want me to do, sweets. Tell me to suck your tit,” he orders, his lips a hairbreadth away from my nipple.
“Please, Griz, I want you to suck my nipple into your mouth.”
Never in my life have I ever spoken to a man like that. No one has ever demanded I tell them what I want. Or ordered to do anything sexual.
Griz flicks his tongue over one of my nipples, drawing a gasp from my lips. “Cup your tits, Marley, and hold them out for me. I want you to offer them up for me to devour.”
Releasing my fingers from around his neck, I do as he tells me. Feeling completely erotic and nervous all at the same time.
Slowly, Griz takes his time drawing one nipple in his mouth while twisting my other one between two fingers.
“Oh yes, Griz, please more. Harder. Suck my nipple harder.”
Griz does so, and it was absolutely amazing. I could come just from what he’s doing with my breasts. Between my legs, my clit throbs, and juices saturate my panties as I grind myself against his thigh.
He switches between breasts and curls his tongue around the tip.
Oh yes. It’s absolute heaven.
I’m so close. So, so close. I want to feel him moving inside me rather than just against me.
“Griz,” I whimper and release my breasts to wrap my fingers through his hair, knocking the hat he’s wearing backward off.
The two of us were in a perfect moment. That is until the sound of “Hail to the King” started playing.
Griz draws away with a curse. “Sorry, sweets, I’ve got to take this,” he says, sighing heavily.
I stare up at him, watching him through heavy lids as he pulls his phone out and answers it.
“Yeah?”
That’s one way to answer a call. What happened to hello or even hey?
“Yeah, I’ll head there now.” Griz is silent for a moment and grimaces. “Yeah, just tell Markus to hold up until I get there.”
Pulling the phone away from his ear, Griz shoves it back into his pocket. His eyes lock on my face. “Sorry to do this to you, sweets, but I’ve gotta run.”
I nod, shove my shirt back into place, and start to slide out from under him. “I guessed that from what you were saying.”
Griz captures my waist, stopping me as he leans back over me. “I don’t want to leave, but the club’s attorney is there and needs to talk to me.”
Again, I nod. “I didn’t know attorneys made visits at this late of an hour.”
“Considering how much Markus gets paid, he makes sure everything gets handled no matter the time of day,” he explains. “You busy tomorrow?”
“I’m going to my grandma’s to help her out with the flowerbeds and then help her pull some things out of the attic.”
“What about Sunday?”
“Dinner with my grandma. We do dinner every Sunday together since I moved to town.”
Griz nods. “You spend a lot of time with her, don’t ya?”
“You could say that.” I shrug. Some people might not like spending time with their grandparents, but I do. Grandma Ryan is hilarious. Plus, I want to learn more about those letters and my grandma had said Mom had more stuff up in the attic from when she was younger. I wanted to go through them.
Those letters have me intrigued.
“I’m free tomorrow, though, after I finish at my grandma’s,” I tell him.
Griz grins and dips his head toward me. “When you finish with your grandma, text me, and I’ll come pick you up. We’ll go out.”He kisses me briefly, pulls away, gets to his feet, and brings me with him. Curling his fingers in my hair, he kisses me a little bit harder before letting me go. “See you tomorrow, sweets.”
“Oh, okay,” I whisper, watching him as he heads to the door.
Griz looks back at me with that sexy grin and opens the door. “Lock up behind me, baby.”
Nodding, I move to the door as he steps through and closes it behind him. I lock both the bottom and top locks. I turn the lights off as I release a heavy breath. My body is still humming with the need for release. Since he’s not here to give it to me, I’m going to have to take care of the problem all by my lonesome.
My mind made up, I dash through the house to my room. I throw myself onto my bed, reaching for the drawer of my nightstand when my phone pings. I left it on the bed when he’d told me he was here. I glance at the screen, seeing it’s him, and smile. I grab my toy from my nightstand before falling back on my bed, settling in, ready to pleasure myself.
Grabbing my phone, I unlock it and stare at the screen reading the message.
Griz: You touch yourself, I’ll paddle your ass for it.
How the hell did he know what I was going to do?
Feeling brazen, I reply.
Me: How would you even know if I did anything or not?
No sooner I sent it, I got a reply.
Griz: Don’t think I won’t know if you took care of yourself. I’ll just know.
This message is followed by another.
Griz: You pleasure yourself, sweets, it’ll be with me watching while I stroked my cock. You take away my pleasure of watching, then you’ll have to be punished for it.
Holy shit on a stick.
Well, if he wants to punish me, then he’ll just have to have at it. There’s no way I can go to sleep without easing the tension he built inside me.
A thought crosses my mind, and I go for it. Pulling my camera up on my phone, I quickly capture a picture of my toy pointing down between my thighs.
I send the picture to him with a message.
Me: Good night, Graham. Guess you’ll have to punish me for it.
Turning my phone on silent, I close my eyes and do just what I need while imagining it’s him pleasuring me rather than my hand.