Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Griffin set his hands on either side of the doorjamb and bowed his head. Then tried to pull himself together and figure out his next steps before he charged into the house and fucked this woman senseless like he was fairly certain she’d invited him to do twenty minutes ago.
Forget the fact that it was highly unprofessional and there were probably rules against it—well, there would be if the company ever became official with an HR department. She was vulnerable. In danger. And a widow. Crossing that line was not only inappropriate, it was also dangerous. He was supposed to be protecting her life, not screwing it up. And despite what she’d said, he knew she wanted to fall in love again. A romance fan who didn’t want romance in her own life? He doubted that.
Savanna was most definitely not destined to be a side character. She was the leading lady all the way. It had nothing to do with how gorgeous she was on the outside because he’d seen her heart. She wore it on her sleeve with virtually everything she did. Her concern for her friends, even her shady brother-in-law, was selfless. And it was obvious she put her heart into her baking as well as her café.
But there was also this light around her, and he swore he saw . . .
When he was a Ranger stationed in Iraq, before joining the Unit, an IED killed one of the guys on his team. At the time, Griffin was sure he was hallucinating when a light appeared over his friend’s lifeless body like heaven was taking his soul right before Griffin’s eyes.
The desert heat. The mourning of his friend. The tragedy of it all. That’s how he’d explained what he’d witnessed as merely a hallucination.
But sometimes, when he looked at Savanna, even that first moment when their eyes locked through Jesse’s kitchen window, no less, he saw a bright orb of light, or maybe it was called an aura, around her. He didn’t always see it, but he knew it was there.
What if it was Marcus surrounding her like a protective shield?
I’m losing my mind again. Too early to drink, and he wouldn’t drink on the job, anyway, but he needed to relieve the pressure building in his body before he ignored all the warnings in his head and surrendered to his desires.
Griffin removed his boots and went inside to search her out, to look her in the eyes and tell her flat out that nothing would ever happen between them. Long ago, he’d vowed never to break a woman’s heart, and he’d be damned if he reneged on that vow with this particular woman.
He went into the kitchen and found Savanna had set the biscuits on the counter to cool, but she was nowhere in sight. He sure as hell hoped she hadn’t gone back to his dad’s office for one of the romance books on the shelf. Why’d his father torture himself by keeping those books displayed?
Once upstairs, he walked down the hall to the guest room, prepared to knock on the door, but refrained when he heard a sound inside.
A small cry or whimper had him leaning in and listening. Holy hell. He took a deep, bracing breath before raising both hands, now clenched into fists, to gently set them against the door. His entire body was now ramrod straight, including his dick. Savanna was touching herself, wasn’t she?
“Griffin,” she cried. “Harder.” The words were strained as if she were on the brink of an orgasm, but they were quickly followed by a soft “yes” that he barely made out.
She’s thinking about me.
Not Marcus.
Me.
He quietly stepped away from the door and ran his hand over the crotch of his jeans as his cock strained against the material.
How was he supposed to look this woman in the eyes and tell her they had to keep their hands off each other after hearing that? How could he face her without giving away the barely controlled desire simmering in his veins with all of the things he wanted to do to her? Harder? Yeah, he could give it to her any way she wanted and then some.
He walked down the hall to his own room, locked the door, and quickly removed his jeans and briefs. Then he went directly to the bathroom, climbed into the shower, and cranked on the water. He didn’t even care that the water started out ice cold because if he didn’t release this pent-up desire fast, he was going to do something dangerous. Or stupid. Probably both.
He took hold of his cock, imagining it was her hand instead that wrapped around him, brushing her thumb through the precum on his crown, punishing him with slow, gentle strokes before sinking to her knees and taking him between her lush lips. Her warm, wet tongue circling his hard shaft while she looked up at him with those hazel eyes . . . perfection.
Griffin. Harder. Yes. Her words unfolded in his mind once again as he stroked himself, imagining her taking him deep as he thrust into that wicked mouth of hers. As he fucked the sass out of her. But who was he kidding, he loved that sass and would want it back.
He slammed one hand onto the tiled wall inside the small tub where he stood, the water raining down over him, and bit down on his back teeth as he jerked and came hard. The relief of it soothed the ache in his chest—a hell of a lot more therapeutic than baking or changing oil.
But he wanted that relief with her. With the woman he’d just told himself he couldn’t have.
He shook his head, angry for reasons he wasn’t even sure he understood, but the tension was already building inside of him at the fact he knew the longer they were stuck together, the harder it’d be for him to behave. To not seek her out, as she’d all but requested of him, so she wouldn’t have to “go it alone” anymore like she said she’d done for a long time.
Shower finished, Griffin stood at the sink and swiped the steam from the mirror to find his eyes. “No,” he ordered himself. “Don’t do it.” She’s still married in her heart. He’d have to keep reminding himself of that. Some-fucking-how.
He put on a clean, white button-up shirt and new jeans before starting for the stairs, hoping she was still in her room, so he didn’t have to face her quite yet, but her door was open as he passed, and he smelled a fresh brew of coffee.
Savanna clocked him the moment he rounded the corner of the kitchen, and a blush immediately crawled up her golden skin. “You showered.” Her attention skated over his body for a moment, and was she remembering how she’d touched herself while thinking of him not too long ago?
Because now he was, damn it.
“I was dirty, remember?” And needed to get off after I heard you moan my name.
“Right.” She lifted a biscuit from the platter, one of his mother’s favorites from what he remembered, and she started toward him. “Here. Taste yourself.” She closed her eyes and scrunched her nose. “I mean, taste your work. You did good.”
When her stunning hazel eyes focused back on him, he witnessed her shaky exhale as she extended what felt like a peace offering.
Instead of taking it from her, he leaned in and took a bite. Their gazes locked as she brought her other hand beneath his mouth to catch the falling crumbs. The buttery biscuit nearly dissolved in his mouth, and damn, it was good. “Mm.” He smiled and pulled away. If he kept staring into her beautiful eyes, he might not be able to control himself.
“Told you.” She handed him the rest of the biscuit before heading back into the kitchen.
He turned away from her, needing to, you know, breathe.
The drapes were open now, showing dark clouds had gathered in the sky. “It’s going to storm.”
“Yeah, that came out of nowhere.” She joined him where he now stood by the window.
“I’ll go do another security check before the storm hits. Check all of the sensors and cameras out there,” he said after polishing off the rest of the biscuit. “We should hear some news soon. When I spoke to Carter in the garage, he believed he was on the verge of getting intel from the men.”
“From what I’ve heard about Carter, I’m surprised it’s taking this long.” A small smile touched her mouth for a brief moment.
“Blame your friend’s brother, Beckett. Both he and Gray, are schoolboys who keep a rein on Carter’s interrogation techniques. They keep checking to make sure the two men still have all their fingers and teeth.” He was talking about torture and smiling. What is wrong with me?
“So are you naughty like Carter or a schoolboy like Gray?” Savanna’s brow arched as if this was another challenge.
“I’m trying to be good,” he nearly hissed, knowing damn well she’d just tossed him more sexual innuendo. He’d never had such a problem keeping himself in line before. It was . . . strange. “So, I should probably head outside.”
Her lips rolled inward as her attention remained on his mouth for a moment. “Jesse’s sister is going to call soon. Mind if I hang on to your phone a bit longer?”
“Sure.” He smiled. “I have nothing to hide.” He cleared his throat and started past her, and she trailed behind him.
“Does Carter believe me?” Savanna asked as he opened the front door to the sound of the sky beginning to rumble. It was eleven hundred hours, but the dark clouds covering an angry sky made it seem like it was early evening.
“He does. But if you can think of anything that might help, he’d appreciate it. We all would.”
She edged closer to him, her arms folded over her chest, and he did his best not to lower his focus to her cleavage now on display. “I just had a thought. Instead of looking for something in my townhouse, what if Nick was hiding something?”
Stepping back inside, Griffin let the door close. “If you’re his only family, then yeah, maybe. If Nick has people after him, and he had something he didn’t want falling into the wrong hands if he were captured . . .” Griffin let his thoughts trail off as he processed the idea. “That’s more likely than him searching for something you’d have, I suppose.” His jaw tightened. “But he put you at risk by doing so.”
“Maybe he had no choice.” She took a tentative step closer. Hope in her eyes that Marcus’s brother, the only living family her late husband had, might have turned a leaf. Or, in Savanna’s case, turned a page. Sadly, seeing as how Nick had been in and out of prison more than once, and his own brother had refused to forgive him for his lifestyle, Griffin doubted that very much.
Nick jeopardized Savanna’s safety by showing up at her house, and as far as Griffin was concerned, there was no coming back from that. Marcus would agree.
“Nick’s a thief.” Her eyes lifted to the ceiling as if working through her thoughts. “What if he stole something that has these men hunting him down for it?”
“It’s possible.” He reached for her arm and gently squeezed. “But, Savanna, Nick’s not your husband. He’s not a hero.” She would always be married to Marcus, wouldn’t she? He let go of her and shifted back a step, feeling as if he’d crossed the line with a married woman, something he’d never do. “In my eyes, Nick’s the villain.”