Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83085 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83085 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
We watched for an hour or so before Josh leaned close, mouth next to my ear, and said, “I wanna dance with you, Griffy. I wanted to last time we were in Richmond as well. I didn’t want to dance with that guy. I wanted you to say I was with you.”
I felt a tremble race up my arms and back. “I wanted that too. I won’t make the same mistake again. Tonight you’re mine.” If I could have it my way, every night he’d be mine.
I stood and held my hand out for him. This time it was me entwining our fingers, me leading Josh to the stairs to go back down. I wasn’t a dancer. Going out to bars like this was never my thing, but tonight it felt like I was staking my claim. I was taking something I’d denied myself before, and I was stepping out of my shell in that way that being with Josh enabled me to do. I wanted to experience everything with him.
When we got downstairs, I found a spot on the dance floor and pulled him close. We wrapped our arms around each other, his hand splayed on my lower back, mine journeying up and down his body, wanting to touch him everywhere.
We moved together tightly to the music. Men were dancing all around us, and I thrived on that, while it also felt like it was just us. Me and Josh.
At one point, a guy came up and began dancing behind Josh. I surrendered to the unfamiliar surge of possessiveness flooding through me. “I don’t share,” I told the guy, who held up his hands in defeat.
“My bad, man. Was just having some fun.”
“Mmm, you got all growly when you said that,” Josh told me.
“Making up for lost time. Saying what I should have said last time.”
Then we were kissing, kissing and dancing and touching, and everything inside me settled into place, fit right in, exactly where it was supposed to be.
Because of him.
I wasn’t second-guessing myself anymore. There was no falling about it. I’d already fallen in love with Josh Westbrook.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Josh
I’d been filled with conflicting emotions all day—well, at least since we stood at the trunk of my car when I made the offhand joke about Griff loving me. I wanted him to. The truth had been obvious the second I’d said it. I wanted Griff to love me. I wanted to be his and claim him as mine because he made me feel alive in ways I hadn’t known I needed.
It was strange to acknowledge that I thought I’d been living my best life. I had my own home, and my own business, and the best of friends. I had sex when I wanted, and laughed every day, and didn’t lack for anything. But now things were different. Being with Griff, him trusting me the way he did, giving me these pieces of himself he didn’t give to anyone else, made me see how much I’d truly been missing. I didn’t mean the sex either, just…everything. His smile and his conversation and his care. His feelings and his laugh and his hopes. That was my best life. Griff was.
And I wasn’t being truthful with him.
It had plagued me all night, while we ate dinner, and while we waited in line, and during the show when he laughed, deep and rich, the sound vibrating in my chest.
When he held me and danced with me and said he didn’t share, making me feel possessed, like I belonged, and damned if I didn’t want to belong to Griffin Caine.
We stayed at the bar until about midnight.
We were sweaty and laughing, our hands sticking together as we left the bar and walked down the block to our hotel.
When we got to our suite, I motioned toward the bathroom. “Take a shower with me, sweetheart.”
Griff followed me into the room. I turned on the water, and we stripped out of our clothes.
“Jesus, this is hot.” I let my fingers dance down the tattoo on his side.
“Not as hot as these.” Griffin brushed his thumbs over the barbells in my nipples, and I hissed.
“Fuck, that feels good. You keep that up, and I’m gonna end up on my knees for you. You know how much I like worshipping this cock.” I stroked him.
“And that’s a bad thing?”
“Not at all, just not in here. I want you in the bed.”
Griff nodded. We washed the sweat off our bodies, but still kept ending up with our hands and lips on each other—kisses on a shoulder, a hand brushing down an ass, a fist wrapped around a cock or cupping balls.
It was like I blinked and the shower was off. Blinked again and we were drying ourselves, blinked again and we were on the bed with me on my back and Griffin on top of me. His body was cradled between my spread thighs, his hand on my face as he looked down at me. “I want you. I want to fuck you…but I want…I think I want to try it the other way first. I’ve never, obviously I’ve never, and maybe I won’t like it, but I want to try it with you.”