20. Griffin
Chapter 20
Griffin
B y the time we get home, it’s almost midnight, and the kids are passed out in the back of the truck. They’re zombies, walking upstairs to their rooms, and I follow them up only to make sure they make it to their beds. With them both flopped on their mattresses in their respective bedrooms, I tell them I love them even if they can’t hear me and stroke their heads. They’re eleven now, but wasn’t it only yesterday I was figuring out how to feed them both at the same time? Now Logan has a girl he likes and big plans for middle school next year. Grace has posters of female scientists and Taylor Swift all over her walls, along with a scattering of schoolbooks and printouts of music on the floor.
Time flies.
I make my way downstairs, double-checking the locks and that all the lights are turned off, thinking about the day we had. How much fun it was. How I should have been having days like this all along with my kids.
Guess I needed Andi to kick my ass into gear.
It’s silent in the house, save for the quiet hum of the refrigerator, and I pause outside of the door to the basement, leaning my ear against it to hear if there is any sound.
It’s slight, but I can tell she’s moving around down there, and my heart pounds in my chest, remembering her admission to me this morning. I know I’ll have to speak to the kids about it more, but I’m glad Andi and I don’t need to hide what we have. We can figure out what we can be together and do it in the open. As a family.
I pad down the steps to the basement, where she’s in the middle of pulling her shirt off, her back to me, hair out of braids and all crimped, falling below her shoulders, her back bare. She’s so pretty. Too pretty. Like a delicate vase of flowers. Better to be admired than touched, but I can’t help it.
I reach for her waist, and she startles, spinning around with her tank top covering her chest. “Oh Jesus.”
“Not Jesus,” I say, kissing the slope of her neck. “Griff.”
She breathes a laugh and angles her head, allowing me more room to skate my lips up and down the column of her throat. “Mmm. Griff.”
I gently suck on a spot she likes then nip at her earlobe, my teeth catching on her piercings. She sucks in a breath, and I pivot to walk her back toward her bed.
She releases her shirt and winds her arms around my neck as I lay her down, following after, holding myself up so I can mark all my favorite places, leaving red spots on her throat, the swells of her breasts, her stomach. She squirms underneath me, breathing heavy, and I hold her gaze as I pop the button on her denim shorts, quickly ridding her of them so she’s only in a thong.
I exhale harshly, more like a growl, and her answering smile is pure sex. A temptress, she lifts her arms above her head, putting her body on display. As if I need any more of an invitation.
I place my hands on her thighs, admiring her, paying my tithes, offering my appreciation with every slow drag of my fingertips over her soft skin. Her nipples are peaked and begging for my mouth, so I bend, spending a long time praying there too. I don’t stop until she’s mewling and wriggling so much I have to stop to take hold of her hips.
“Settle, sweetheart.”
“I can’t,” she whines, and I can’t stop the smile crawling across my face. The one that makes her pout like I am the one torturing her .
But she’s got it wrong. She’s got it all wrong.
She is everything good and right in the world. Everything that turns me on. From the way she speaks, how her plump lips form words, to the way her voice lowers an octave and turns raspy when she says my name underneath me.
“Griffin.”
I lower myself over her, my legs between hers, my forearms on either side of her head. I kiss her like I can pour every ounce of gratitude into her. Like she can taste it, feel it, know it in her bones. Her mouth is soft, pliant, opening to me as I trace the seam of her lips with my tongue. She sighs, combing her fingers into my hair, scraping her nails over my neck.
It sends goose bumps over my spine, tightens my skin, not to mention my balls. My cock is steel and aching, but I can’t worry about myself now. Too busy memorizing her curves and valleys with my tongue, counting the freckles that dot her shoulders with my lips.
But I want more. Need more.
To taste her. Make her come undone.
“Andi,” I whisper against her ear, trailing my hand over her shoulder to the side of her breast and down, spanning her stomach. My fingertips barely graze the shape of her under the cotton of her thong. “Let me put my mouth on you.”
I feel her swallow when I kiss her throat, tension radiating through every inch of her. “I know you’re nervous, but we’ll go slow.”
She molds her hands to each side of my face, forcing my head up so I meet her gaze. “What if you don’t like it? What if?—”
“There is nothing I want more. I’ve been dreaming about it. Your flavor and the way I know you’ll sound when you come. There is no what-if. I’m going to love it, and I’ll make sure you do too.” I scrape my teeth over her collarbone, lowering myself down her body, brushing my thumbs back and forth over her nipples, sucking on the skin between them. “Please, baby. I need to.”
I flatten myself to the bed, set my chin on her stomach, watching as she nibbles on her lower lip. I understand her unspoken words. No one’s ever gone down on her. No one’s ever made her come like that. The thought makes me want to hunt down every selfish asshole she’s been with. But more than that, it makes me want to show her how good it can be. How good I can make her feel.
When she eventually agrees with a hesitant nod, I sit up. “Get your vibrator out.” Her brows narrow in question, and I stand, staying close to the edge of the mattress and removing my T-shirt. “I told you. We’ll go slow. So, before I put my mouth on you, I want to watch. I want to see what you do when you’re on your own down here and I’m upstairs.”
Her eyes widen as pink blooms on her cheeks, lips pressed together like she’s nervous, even as she shifts to her hands and knees, pushing her ass out to me, glancing over her shoulder. Little minx.
She reaches over to her bedside table and pulls out the toy I saw the day we met, the same one that I accidentally powered on while I carried her bag. It’s bright pink but transparent enough that I spot where the battery goes. It’s thick and long and remarkably close to a real-life cock. Except for the small attachment clearly meant to stimulate her clit.
And I’m going to see her use it.
Lucky bastard.
Blood rushes south, and I remind myself to breathe, force my muscles to relax as she rolls back to the center of the bed and slips off her thong, flicking it at me. I shake my head at her, but my stern mask melts at her playful grin. As always, she pulls my own mouth into a semblance of a smile. I can’t help it.
When she’s happy, I’m happy.
But I try again and jut my chin out with an order. “Show me.”
Naked and laid out like every one of my fantasies come to life, Andi turns on the vibrator, the soft buzz filling the room. She tentatively touches the head to her clit, then lower, rubbing the length of it along her slit, coating it in her wetness. She’s still not as confident as I know she can be, still timid with her free hand close to her side, eyes closed.
That won’t do.
“Open your eyes.”
She does, and I nod, making sure my voice is even when I say, “I love watching you. See?” I swiftly drop my shorts and boxer briefs, wrapping my fist around my erection. “See what you do to me.”
She watches as I pull on the length, echoing the movement with her own, swiping the vibrator along the seam of her pussy.
“That’s it,” I murmur. “Getting good and wet. So pretty.”
She sucks in a breath I feel in my own chest as she pushes the tip inside her, and it would take my heart giving out for me to force my gaze from the image of her pussy swallowing the pink dildo. I lick my lips, transfixed, unknowingly moving closer to her until my knees hit the bed.
“Oh fuck, Andi. Fuck me, this is… This is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. You are perfect.”
Her eyelids flutter, tits rising and falling rapidly, that arm that was previously at her side is stretched out, fingers aimlessly pulling at the bedsheet. She’s getting worked up, starting to forget about her nerves, and that’s exactly what I want.
I want her to let go, ignore me and what I may or may not be feeling and thinking, and concentrate on herself. On how she feels. On what she wants. On how close she is to reaching the peak.
I stay quiet, even as it’s hard not to praise her for being brave and beautiful and better than anything I could have dreamed. But I don’t want to pull her out of the daze she’s in as she fucks herself with the vibrator, the little attachment hitting her clit. She must find the place she needs because her back arches, skin flushing red, and she slaps her left hand to her breast, pinching and tugging at her nipple.
Her brow pulls down, head thrown back, quiet, short moans coming from her open mouth, pursed in an O. I stroke myself in time with her movements, matching her rhythm. The faster her breath comes, the faster mine does as well. Her whimpers grow louder, my hand works quicker. We’re both racing toward orgasm, and I try as hard as I can to hold back, keep my eyes open to watch Andi crest the wave first.
Her body tenses as she cries out, her release crashing over her. I follow her over the edge, my cock pulsing in my hand as I come, her name on my lips, and I slump over, catching my breath, finally allowing my eyes to close, my heart rate slowing.
It takes a minute to recover, and I stand upright again to see the vibrator tossed aside, her body limp and mine for the taking. I wipe my hand on my discarded T-shirt then dive between her legs, wrapping my arms under her thighs, keeping her in place. I can smell her arousal, delicious. See it glisten on her skin, mouthwatering.
“Hands on my head,” I say, lips brushing the thin line of hair, damp with her desire. “Direct me. You’re in charge.”
Andi’s throat bobs on a swallow, her fingers tentatively combing into my hair. Holding her gaze, I trace the outline of her pussy with my tongue. She gasps, her hips jerking reflexively before easing again when I tighten my grip. Then she fists her fingers in my hair, and I reward her with the flat of my tongue over her clit.
She sighs, more pliable tonight than last week, and I hope that means she’s trusting herself more, realizing she can have whatever she wants, if only she allows herself to. She should know by now, I will give her whatever she needs and wants—my fingers, my mouth, my cock.
My whole goddamn heart.
It beats wildly in my chest when her belly tenses, head lifting off the pillow, as she rasps, “I need… I need…”
“What?”
“Your hand.”
“Attagirl.” I slide my middle and index fingers inside her as I suck on her clit, making her thighs quiver and her inner muscles clench. Stroking in and out, I focus on the swollen spot that makes her cry out.
Her own hands squeeze, holding me to her, hips writhing, showing me the rhythm and strength she needs. I’m so proud of her for asking for what she wants, and when she hisses out a low yes , I hum my approval.
She comes again, body convulsing, hands gripping my hair tightly. I ride out her orgasm with her, my tongue softening, my touch gentling as she settles down, and when she finally stills, I press a soft kiss to her clit, then move up her body, gathering her in my arms.
She groans, eyes heavy, limbs loose, but she smiles when she turns to me, swiping her palm over my mouth. “You have…”
“You all over me?” I guess, then kiss her, permitting her no time to be embarrassed. “Did you enjoy yourself?”
“I think you know I did.”
I tuck her head beneath my chin. “You’re right. Just want to hear you say it.”
“I loved it.”
Warmth spreads from my chest outward, thickening the blood in my veins, and I have to clamp my jaw shut to keep the words from escaping my mouth. I love you .
“Sleep now,” I say, pulling the comforter over us. “I got you.”
Andi yawns and settles against me, soft and sleepy, one hand curled under her chin, the other on my chest.
She falls asleep easily.
I don’t. I stay awake, learning what it’s like to live with my heart split three ways. For Grace, Logan, and now Andi.
I used to believe life is too precious to fuck it up with something as capricious as feelings. Now I know life is too precious not to feel it all. Because this time with Andi is worth any possible heartache. Today, with my family, their smiling faces are the reward for the difficult things I’ve been through in my life. I can’t have the good without the bad, but I know there is so much more good, if only I allow myself to accept it.