Chapter 1 #2
But he was already walking away, weaving through the tables toward the back hallway.
I sat there for thirty seconds, face flushing hot, before I grabbed my purse and followed him.
* * *
I pushed the door open and saw Griffin standing by the sink. The bulge was already evident in his pants, straining against the tailored fabric.
"Close the door behind you," he said, his voice low.
I did exactly that, turning the lock until it clicked. The sound echoed off the marble walls.
"What are you doing?" I teased, though my heart was already pounding.
"I want you. And I don't want to wait."
"Someone might knock."
"Then we'd better be quick."
He reached for me, but I moved first, closing the distance between us, pressing my palms flat against his chest and shoving him backward until his shoulders hit the wall.
His eyes went wide. "Maya..."
"I want your fingers inside me first." I was already reaching for his hand, guiding it under my dress, up my thigh. "Now."
His expression shifted, surprise melting into hunger. His fingers found the edge of my panties, slipped beneath the lace, and when he touched me I gasped against his mouth.
"You're already wet," he murmured against my lips.
"Then stop wasting time."
He didn't.
Two fingers pushed inside me, and I bit down on his shoulder to muffle the sound that escaped. He worked me slow at first, curling, stroking, finding that spot that made my thighs tremble, then faster when my hips started to rock against his hand.
Griffin captured my lips in a deep kiss. I whimpered against his mouth and held him firmly, feeling his erection pressing against my stomach.
I started undoing his belt while he kept working me with his fingers. His other hand slid against my bare skin, lifting my dress higher.
I gasped when I pulled his belt loose and slipped my hand down his pants. We broke the kiss as soon as I curled my fingers around him. I smiled against his lips, biting mine as I stroked him through his boxers.
"Fuck," he breathed. His fingers faltered inside me for just a moment.
A knock came at the door.
We both froze.
"Occupied," Griffin called, voice rough.
His fingers hadn't stopped moving. I gripped his wrist.
"Don't stop," I whispered. "Please."
He spun us around, picking me up and settling me on the marble counter. I gasped at the cold surface against my bare thighs, but the chill only heightened everything else. I parted my legs and shifted my dress higher until it was bunched around my waist.
Griffin's gaze dropped between my legs, his neck reddening when he saw my soaked panties. The lace was practically see-through now.
I raised my hips off the counter and let Griffin pull them off. He stuffed them in his pocket with a wicked grin.
"Those are expensive."
"I'll buy you new ones."
"You'll buy me ten."
"Done." He captured my mouth in a needy kiss while he pulled me closer to the edge of the counter.
I wrapped my legs around him, pressing my body close while Griffin freed himself. When I felt him grazing my thighs, hot and hard and ready, I moaned, rolling my hips to meet him.
He pressed himself at my entrance, and I broke the kiss, holding my breath. When he eased into me, I sighed softly, my body welcoming him with a gentle tug. He was big and thick, stretching me in the most delicious way.
"Fuck," Griffin groaned, and immediately started to thrust. He held my legs apart, watched himself disappear into me, and increased his pace.
He knew exactly how to please me. Each stroke hit deeper than the last. I reached for his face, tracing my thumb across his parted lips as he drove into me. He caught my finger between his lips and sucked on it.
"I'd be a mad man if I ever stopped having you," he said breathlessly. "You wrap around me so beautifully, baby. So tight."
I clenched around him, loving the way he talked to me.
"Faster," I gasped.
I leaned back, my shoulders pressing against the mirror behind me. The glass was cool, then warm, then fogging from our breath. Griffin reached out, peeled a strap from my shoulder and filled his palm with my breast.
The knock came again, more insistent this time.
My adrenaline spiked, someone was just outside the door. The danger of it only made everything more intense.
"Faster," I urged again, my hand sliding down to grip his hip, pulling him into me harder.
Griffin made a low, hungry sound. He gripped my hips and gave me what I asked for, driving into me until the smacks of skin against skin echoed inside the small room, until the counter shook beneath me, until I couldn't think about anything except the pressure building low in my belly.
The knock came again, even more urgent, and Griffin's thrusts became even faster.
My stomach tightened, that familiar coiling sensation that meant I was close. So close.
"Oh fuck, I think I'm gonna come," he said through clenched teeth. He was hitting the right spots perfectly, and I was right there with him.
"Come with me," he breathed.
I could only nod.
My walls began to clench around him. My orgasm hit hard and sudden, my body quivering, my cries escaping before I could stop them. I didn't care who heard. My walls clung to Griffin, milking every wave of pleasure from my body.
He swelled inside me, his guttural moan filling the room. His thrusts slowed, he bucked uncontrollably, and then he was filling me with his warmth. He leaned into me, resting his forehead against my shoulder while his body trembled.
Neither of us moved.
Then he pulled back, and we both looked at each other, flushed, disheveled, ridiculous, and laughed.
"That," he said, tucking himself back into his pants, "is how you celebrate."
"We're terrible people."
"The worst."
"That poor man has been waiting..."
"He can wait another minute."
I slid off the counter and pulled my dress down. Griffin was still breathing heavily while he fixed his belt. I turned to the mirror, confronting my flushed face and tousled hair.
The knocks at the door became even more urgent.
Griffin grinned at me. "Ready?"
"No."
"Perfect. Let's go."
We opened the door and found an angry man standing there, his lips tightly drawn together, his forehead set in a frown. Once he looked behind Griffin and saw me step out, the look on his face morphed into shock.
Griffin took my hand and flashed his most charming smile. "Apologies for the wait."
The man's jaw dropped.
Griffin held my hand as we walked back through the dining area. I felt his release trickling from between my legs, warm against my inner thigh. I pressed my legs together to keep walking normally.
Griffin noticed. His grin turned wicked.
"Problem?" he murmured.
"You're paying for dry cleaning too."
"Worth it."
* * *
We were still laughing when we pulled onto Maple Street.
"The look on his face," Griffin said, wiping his eyes. "I thought he was going to call the police."
"We should have left the door open. Really given him something to..."
The words died in my throat.
There was a motorcycle in my driveway. Black Harley-Davidson Fat Boy, chrome pipes catching the streetlight. I knew that bike. I knew every scratch on the gas tank, every custom modification.
My body went cold.
"Who's that?" Griffin asked, pulling in behind it.
A figure stood on my porch, leaning against the railing. Tall. Broad shoulders. The porch light hadn't turned on, motion sensor must be broken again, so all I could see was a silhouette. But I didn't need light. I'd recognize that shape anywhere.
He stepped forward, and the streetlight caught his face. Green eyes. Dark hair, longer than he used to wear it. That sharp jaw I'd traced with my fingers a thousand times. The edge of his tattoo visible beneath his sleeve.
"Maya?" Griffin's voice seemed to come from very far away. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
I swallowed hard. My hands were shaking. The man I'd been trying not to think about all night was standing ten feet away, and suddenly all the excitement, all the guilt, all the lies I'd been telling myself collapsed into a single, devastating truth:
I never stopped. I never moved on. I just got better at pretending.
"Maya," Griffin said again. "Who is that?"
I opened the car door on legs that didn't feel like mine.
"That's my ex, Ivan."