Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 115763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
He shakes his head vehemently. “Of course not. Your neighbor came over to yell at us about being noisy. She’s the one who told us about Conniver’s guys being there. I told her I’d make it worth her while if she kept an eye on your place today.”
“Mrs. Rosenthal is babysitting my apartment?” I say doubtfully. “She’s probably having a yard sale on the sidewalk, selling all our stuff and pocketing the money for herself.”
Griffin blanches. “She wouldn’t.”
“Oh yeah, she would,” I argue. “But it’s okay. Dom said he was going over there. I’m gonna trust that he’ll handle it, and if anything’s missing, I’ll take it out on him, never letting him live it down.”
“Do that. Blame Dom,” he readily agrees. “Do you still want me to order a replacement eggs Benedict?” He waves his phone, reminding me.
But I’m hungry for something else. Well, maybe two things. “Why do you taste like Thin Mints?”
He laughs. “I’ve been searching for them and finally found them. They’re in my freezer, and when I got here, I thought I’d try your method of eating my feelings. You want some?”
That is so sweet, and yes, I do want a celebratory cookie, but when he tries to get up from the couch, I launch myself at him, stopping him.
“Later. First, I want you,” I purr.
Chapter 27
Griffin
I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything as sexy as Penelope Lee saying that she wants me.
Me. Griffin Mahoney—good for nothing, worthless, only useful as a battering ram or a punching bag. Except, to her, I’m more.
And I vow to myself to always find a way to be more for her. Starting now . . .
“Come here,” I growl, pulling her into my lap. She squirms, settling herself right over my already hardening dick. I grind against her, and even through my sweats and her pants, it feels ridiculously good and dangerously addictive.
I would do terrible things for this woman. I would do depraved things for her. Hell, I’d let her do them to me if she wanted to. Anything at all, anything she wants, I’ll make sure it’s hers.
Leaning in, she whispers in my ear, “Is that a hockey stick or are you just glad to see me?” When she sits upright, she’s grinning, proud of her own silly joke.
In my mind, I’ve gone dark and ominous, and with one little question and her cute smile, she brings light and levity like a fucking magician.
“I don’t know whether to be flattered you’re calling it as big as a hockey stick or insulted because I’m definitely thicker than one,” I quip, arching a brow as I try to meet her mood.
“How thick is a hockey stick?” She holds her hand up, peering at the circle she’s made with her thumb and finger and wiggling on me like she’s measuring by feel.
“Do you want to compare? I’ve got a stick in the closet by the door.” The offer makes her laugh, but then I add truthfully, “And I’m definitely glad to see you.”
Her smile melts into something more meaningful as she comes closer for a kiss. She’s careful, avoiding my nose thoughtfully as her lips meld against mine, and I taste my future. A future with Penny, something I never thought could actually happen, but now . . . is.
Wrapping my arms around her, I pull her in tighter before exploring her back with my palms. She reaches for the hem of her shirt, interrupting our kiss to yank it over her head and drop it to the floor before fixing me with a heated look. Her pupils are dilated with a desire I never thought I’d see from her. But there it is, for me.
Penny is mine, the way I’ve always dreamed. The way I never dared to hope.
I reach up to cup her jaw, and she tilts into my touch, closing her eyes. “You are so fucking special, Pen.”
She inhales a jagged breath before meeting my gaze once more. “You’re pretty special too,” she replies. It’s not the truth, but the way she says it, I can almost believe it. Maybe one day, it will be true.
I trace a line along the edge of her bra, down to her cleavage, then back up the other side. Through the satiny fabric, I can see the outline of her nipples hardening in response to my touch. “You like that?” I ask.
In answer, she reaches behind herself, undoing her bra and dropping it off her shoulders. Her tits fall free, right into my hands. “You like that?” she asks right back.
“Yeah, I do.” My voice is barely a rumble, rough and gritty with desire. When I tease my thumbs over her stiffening nubs, she arches for more, so I dip my head down to take one into my mouth. She adjusts, scooting up my body as I scoot down the couch until we find a position where I can reach her better and give her what she wants. With her hands on my shoulders for leverage, I suck and lick one nipple, then the other, slowly building up the intensity until I nip and nibble, drawing a sharp intake of breath from her.