23. Chapter 23
Chapter twenty-three
I ’m sliding my key into my door, thinking about the leftover salad I’ll have for dinner, when I’m surprised by arms wrapping around my waist and hauling me back against a hard chest. My heart races as I scream and drop my keys, instinctively throwing my elbow back into the solar plexus of my attacker and stomping on his instep. I’m about to kick his kneecap backward when I hear a familiar voice wheeze out.
“Fuck, Shelby! It’s just me.”
Griffin.
I spin around now that his arms are gone and find him doubled over behind me, holding his ribs and trying to catch his breath after having the wind knocked out of him.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would you sneak up on me like that? I thought I was going to get kidnapped and have horrible things done to me. ”
My hand flutters up to rest over my heart, which is racing freakishly fast as adrenaline dumps in my system and my scare turns to anger. I definitely have a fight instinct, rather than flight. I’ll have to thank Henry for that. He loved to jump out and scare me when we were growing up, and the only way to avoid being taken down by his best wrestling moves was to send him head-over-heels first.
“Just trying to surprise you. Jesus, you hit hard. Lesson learned. I’ll never sneak up on you again. God help anyone who really tries to attack you.”
“What are you doing here?” I look around the courtyard, trying to see if anyone is peeking out of their windows at the commotion we are causing.
“Relax. The guys all went to the CrossFit brick to work out. No one is here to see us together.” The bitterness lacing his voice is acidic, but I shouldn’t be surprised. He wants us public. I don’t.
“Did you want something?” I feel like a bitch asking like that, but I’m trying to put distance between us, to salvage the emotionless sexual relationship we’re supposed to have.
Hah. That’s funny.
“Go to dinner with me. I want to show you around Newport a little. I don’t think you’ve had the chance since you’ve been here.”
He straightens up, his fingers finally abandoning his abdomen as he recovers. I follow his movements with my hungry eyes that can’t get enough of him. He’s dressed up more than I’ve ever seen him, in dark jeans that follow the strong line of his legs and a gray button-down that turns his eyes a stormy blue .
Well, this doesn’t jive well with my plan for distance. His offer is just tempting enough for me to abandon it altogether. Exploring Newport and ditching my lackluster salad for restaurant quality food has a huge appeal. Who am I kidding? As much as I want to keep my interest removed, I want to be with him more. It can’t be that bad. Friends have dinner. Coworkers have dinner. We can do dinner. Right?
“Let me change real quick. Do you want to come in to wait? Or I can meet you at your car.” I pick up my keys and open my door, hesitating on the threshold as I wonder if it’s a good idea to let him in now.
“Go change. I’m coming in.” I shrug, allowing him to follow me inside. He shuts the door and trails me into my bedroom.
I raise my eyebrow at him. “If you want to go to dinner, we shouldn’t get distracted in my bedroom.” I gesture vaguely to my bed, knowing he probably has ulterior motives for wanting to be in here.
He plops down on the bed and leans back on his elbows with his legs hanging over the edge. “By all means, change. I just want a front row seat for the show.” His smile is wolfish and crinkles the corners of his eyes.
I can’t help but smile back. He’s radiant when he’s in a good mood. Thank goodness he didn’t stay angry at me for hurting him at my door. I open my closet and hunt through the clean clothes I’ve managed to hang up. I’m still living out of boxes for the most part, but my clothes and shoes have a home now. “Where are we going, exactly?”
“Fig and Olive. It has a great view of the ocean and good food. It’s nice, but not pretentious. Now get naked, dammit, I want a show. ”
“Pushy asshole.” I turn around to hide my smile. I pull my T-shirt over my head and slowly wiggle out of my jeans. If he wants a show, I can give him one. I look over my shoulder and wink at him as I stand in my underwear. At least it’s a matched set, and he’s getting a show as my panties are the cheeky kind that let the bottom half of my buns hang out. I reach into my closet, but I don’t get far as Griffin has come up behind me and wraps me in his arms as he kisses my neck. Thankfully, he doesn’t bite me and suck, so I can enjoy it for a change.
Instant chill bumps race down my body as his soft breath feathers over my skin with his lips and his fingers caress my stomach. His body is warm as it envelops mine, and his arms hold me with care and consideration. I close my eyes and surrender to his kisses, his touch that is heating me up and sending my pulse throbbing low in my body. I turn in his arms and wrap mine around his neck, pulling his face down to meet mine.
“I missed you last night. You should have let me come over. I would have had you begging for a release that would have made your headache a distant memory.”
A tiny stab of guilt pricks me. I had to find an excuse to not see him last night, and a headache is an age-old standard for a reason. “You’re not supposed to distract me right now, we’re going to dinner. This definitely counts as a distraction.” I kiss his mouth sweetly, finding I want to do it again, but deeper. Suddenly, all I want is his mouth all over me.
“You look good enough to eat. I don’t really need dinner after all.” He places kisses along my neck between words, making me shiver and sigh.
I’m a little thrown off, but rolling with this new side of him. He’s being unusually gentle and sweet. I’ve grown accustomed to him attacking me with his mouth and hands, ripping my orgasm from my body with fast, hard thrusts, probing fingers, and feasting lips. This softer side of him is...nice. I’m not worried about him leaving a mark because he’s not greedily sucking at my skin, or biting me roughly. I like that too, but it gets old having to force his head away.
Griffin reaches down and raises me up his body, turning with me in his arms to lay me back on the bed. My heart picks up its pace as his warm mouth leaves mine to feather soft kisses down my neck and across my chest. I arch into his mouth when his lips and tongue slip into my bra to capture my nipple. He teases it into a stiff peak before turning to pay the same respect to the other. His hands gently stroke over my skin, following my curves and setting me alight. He teases out my desire, building me up and making me hungry for him.
Screw dinner. If he’s going to be this sweet and gentle, I can eat cardboard later and not care.
My fingers work to free the tiny buttons on his shirt as he returns to my mouth. He shrugs out of it and while he’s away from me, his jeans disappear also. When he drapes his warm body over me, I undulate beneath him, wanting all parts of me to touch him. I wrap him up in my legs and arms, keeping him close as he teases my lips with his tongue. He doesn’t seem in a hurry to have sex like usual. Instead, he pays great attention to my mouth, his arms keeping me tightly pressed against him. It’s beautiful but unnerving, and I have to say something to break the spell he’s casting on me before I become completely enamored with this side of him. It will be easier to not get attached because he’ll be back to his cocky ways before I know it .
“Fuck me, Griffin.”
“I’m not gonna fuck you tonight. I want to make love to you,” he says, his hips pressing into mine. “Take you slow and deep and make you feel something other than a rough fuck.”
I look at him in confusion, suspecting there’s something I’m not grasping. He doesn’t explain. His fingers unhook my bra, tossing it away before he moves off of me to send my panties along with it.
I’m trying to reconcile this new desire for slow and sweet with the Griffin I know who would rather disarm me with dirty talk and push into me in one hard thrust. Are they one and the same? What side is truly him at his core?
Once he’s sheathed in latex, he settles between my legs and gently eases into me in a slow rocking of his hips. His unhurried movements allow my body to grow used to his size without the usual breathless intensity that is a mix of sweet pleasure and biting pain.
He keeps his eyes trained on mine and I can’t look away from the new unguarded rawness I see in them. It’s beautiful and so unlike everything I’ve seen from him previously. I let out a breathy sigh as our bodies come together, feeling every bit as full of him, but more so from the emotions he’s pouring into this moment. Is this the real Griffin, under the edgy layers of self-assured attitude and prideful ego?
“Who are you?” My whispery voice is rounded by building pleasure, my arms hooked around his body as he holds me close.
“The man I should have been all along.” His fingers brush hair out of my eyes and trail along my cheek. “You deserve more. I shouldn’t fuck you like a whore. I should respect you like the incredible woman that you are. ”
I shut my eyes tightly and loosen my hold on him.
This. This right here is more than no-strings sex. It’s emotions and promises and so many strings tying us together we will never break free.
“Look at me, Shelby.” I blink my eyes open, finally meeting his with hesitance. “You’re not a slut. You make bad decisions in the moment just like I do. I never meant to make you feel cheap, but I’ve done more than my share when I was hurt. I should have never caused you to look for attention anywhere else. You have mine now, all of it, and I don’t care what that means for anything else.”
“Griffin, don’t.” My plea is soft and sad as I turn my face away from his. I want the cocky asshole back. I know what to do with him. I know how to guard myself against his brash self-assured nature and thrill to his dirty talk. I know how to protect myself from the insults that come out of reaction. I never should have mentioned feeling cheap.
“Don’t what, Shelby? Put emotion into sex? Treat you with respect? Would you rather this stay a dirty little secret?”
He continues to slide in and out of me languidly, as if our conversation isn’t happening. It’s a strange sensation for my body to be so satisfied and enjoying the motions, while my brain fights to rationalize the words and shield me from the gentleness.
It’s a sad day when you realize you are pushing away gentle and sweet in favor of rough and heartless.
Griffin grips my face in his hands, forcing me to look into his eyes. He’s pure feeling and emotion, his face serious in a way I’ve never seen from him. “Feel this, baby. Feel the difference and know it’s better this way. I’ll fuck you seven ways to Sunday anytime you want, but I need this with you, too. I want you to want more. We can do this.”
Hot tears sting my eyes and thicken in my throat. I blink to keep them from falling and breathe out a shaky breath. It’s too much. He’s asking for more than I can give him, even if I want everything he’s offering. My resolve is slipping each time we’re together. The lines I thought were so clear to start with have been washed away in our tides of fighting and fucking away the hurt. I never had a handle on the situation to begin with. It was always doomed to blow up in my face. I just didn’t think it would happen so soon. I thought I could make it till the end of the season, that our illicit trysts would be enough, and when the season was over, we would be also. We’re halfway through, and I’ve already lost myself to him.
“Come back to me. Come back to right now. You’re all lost in your head and I need you with me. Don’t overthink this. Just feel it, too. I know you do.”
I gasp for air as panic seizes me. I can’t do it. “Get out. You need to leave. Get your fucking dick out of me and go.”
Griffin freezes, his face transforming in an instant, his eyes growing hard and cold. His words that follow are low and frozen. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“No. You need to get out.” I struggle beneath him, forcing my knees between us and push myself out from under him and further up the bed. I roll away and grab a T-shirt off my floor. I pull it over my head and grab his clothes, thrusting them into his hands as he stands and looks at me in angry confusion.
“You’re a heartless bitch.” His tone is cold and flat, the words hanging thickly in the air between us, echoing through my brain. He’s right .
“You can leave right now.” My voice is edged in pain but doesn’t shake as badly as my anxiety-ridden nerves made me think it would.
“This is bullshit,” Griffin says as he pulls on his pants roughly. “You know, I think you were right. This was all just a way to use each other.” He pulls his shirt on without bothering to button it. “I’m over your delusional ideas about no-strings relationships. I thought maybe we could make it more, but it’s clear now that all you wanted was to be fucked like the dirty slut you are. You aren’t capable of accepting an emotional connection. Maybe you’re not even able to love anyone other than yourself. Go find someone else to make you feel cheap and easy because I’m done with you.” Griffin flips me off as he turns and leaves the room. I stand frozen in place until I hear the front door slam.
I collapse to the floor, drawing my arms around myself, finally letting my barely held together composure shatter. I am splintered glass wrapped in barbed wire, all jagged edges and sharp points that inflict more pain. Griffin just made himself vulnerable to me, showed me his true nature rather than the cocky persona he wears to protect himself. He was practically giving me his heart and I kicked him in the stomach. I stomped on his offering of more and emotions and ground them beneath my soulless feet. I’m a heartless bitch. I deserve every painful feeling that is tearing through me right now.
I scrub my wet face and wildly look around my borrowed apartment bedroom. Everything here is a reminder that I don’t belong, even if I thought I was accepted. I am a caricature of myself, a mere shadow of the full person I once was, who had morals and standards and treated people decently. I’ve changed in more ways than I ever imagined I could since I became a promo model for Smoke and Mirrors.
I need out. I messed up by letting my attraction to the hotheaded, cocky, foul-mouthed driver of my team get out of hand. Now that he’s wanting to be serious and make this into more than a no-strings relationship, I can’t handle it. I have to find a way to get out of this before it blows up and ruins the rest of the season for the entire team. If salvaging what the team has means removing myself from it, I have a way out.
I hunt through my purse and find Terrance’s card.
“Hello, this is Terrance,” he answers on the second ring.
My voice is shaky and not at all assured as I reply. “Hey, it’s Shelby with the Black Sheep Mustang. I want to hear more about driving for your team.”