Drift Heat

by Adrian R. Hale

  I stop by the mailboxes and find the one labeled G. McGregor, noting his apartment number. I head to my place and shower. Clean in a tank top and jeans, I make my way upstairs to number nine and knock softly on the door.

  When it opens, so does my mouth. Griffin stands in front of me, shirtless and scruffy, with bedhead and stubble along his normally smooth face. Damn. I thank my lucky stars this man is dedicated to his workouts. The sun sinking in the sky splashes his body with golden light, highlighting the muscles and indents that continue all the way down to the waistband of his jeans that hang low on the glorious V of his hips, revealing his happy trail of sparse hair that I would love to chase with my tongue.

  I close my mouth but find myself catching my bottom lip with my teeth to keep it that way. I can’t tear my eyes away from his body and the colorful tattoos that decorate it. I’m hoping to someday get a chance to really dive in and explore the tattoos up close without distraction. Hah. I don’t think he’ll let me close and not distract me, but it’s worth a shot.

  “Did I make that good of an impression on you that you’re back for more?” His voice has that gravelly, deep timbre that causes butterflies to take flight and bang around my ribs and my eyes to finally snap to his. The blue depths smolder and sparkle. Maybe he likes me completely lost in checking out his body.

  I clear my throat and quickly shake my head. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t prepared for...this.” I motion to his chest and lamely drop my hand to my side. I hold up the chilled bottle of vodka I’ve brought with me. “I came with a peace offering. Can I come in?”

  Griffin hesitates, then opens the door and lets me come in. I look around at his apartment that has the same floor plan as my own, but flipped. The front half of the apartment is made up of a small kitchen and living room with a tiny hallway leading to the bathroom and bedroom. He has a black leather sofa facing a big flat-screen TV with the Sharks hockey game on mute. A bottle of beer and several game controllers litter the small coffee table, while a TV stand holds the consoles they belong to and a few shelves of video games and DVDs. The place is sparsely decorated, only a few car posters on the walls and a family photo on a side table with a lamp. It’s also really clean, unlike my own messy, still in the boxes apartment.

  I follow Griffin into the kitchen where he grabs two glasses from a cupboard and a can of Mas Boost from his fridge.

  “Your usual?” He points to the energy drink.

  I nod. I would have taken the vodka straight up at this point. My nerves are out of control. Am I really going to do this? I hand him the bottle of vodka and watch as he mixes us both drinks, handing me one as we head to the couch.

  “Why are you here, really? If it was to ride my cock, you would be doing it already.” He sips his drink and keeps his eyes on the glass.

  I take a large gulp from my drink, stalling even though I know exactly why I came here tonight. “I wanted to apologize. I don’t think I handled things well last night.”

  His eyes slowly rise to mine, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. I follow the movement and wish it were my own doing that. One night with him has set me onto a crash course of desire. I want him so badly. I swallow loudly.

  “I was hoping we could talk a little. Maybe figure out what we both want.”

  “I know what I want. You. In my bed. Right now, preferably. Shall we?” He thumbs back toward his bedroom. His cocky attitude compliments the smug smirk turning up his full lips. This guy has no shortage of confidence and crass.

  I reach out and take his jaw in my hand, turning his face to mine. I leave my fingers there, brushing through the prickly stubble. “You’re a cocky asshole, you know that?”

  “So I’ve been told. But I think you liked my cock just fine.”

  I drop my hand and roll my eyes. So much cock being bandied about in this conversation. Figures. “I’m just freaked out. You’re intense. This thing between us is intense. I thought you hated me, and I wasn’t expecting anything like this to happen when I took this job.”

  “I don’t hate you,” he says into his glass. “So what do you want from me?”

  He reaches forward and pushes my damp hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering down my neck before they leave my skin to settle next to my leg on the couch. He softly brushes my thigh. We’re both subtly looking for ways to touch each other. Maybe he’ll be a little more receptive to my plan this way.

  “Was last night a one-night thing you came to me for in a drunken haze? Are you over the appeal now that you’ve had me?” I finish my drink in another gulp and set the glass down on the table.

  “I told you, I wasn’t drunk. And no, I don’t want that to have been the only time I have you under me, screaming my name and drawing your pleasure down my back. There’s no stopping me now, babe. I want more of you.”

  “I was hoping we could come to a compromise. I’d like...well, I really want to fuck you again, but I want it to stay between us. Just sex, nothing more.”

  Griffin chuckles into his drink before swallowing. “I knew you’d want more of what I gave you. I’m not one to kiss and tell, so of course it would stay between us. You want me to fuck you again, right now?”

  My face is burning hot and my hands are shaking now that I no longer have the weight of my glass to steady them. I take a deep breath and hold his gaze. “Yes, and I’m pretty sure I’ll want to do it more than once. Probably a lot of fucking.” I tilt my head to the side and purse my lips. “Especially if this is what you wear around the house.” I reach out and run my fingers lightly from his collarbone down to his navel, delighting in the muscle contractions caused by my touch.

  He grips my hand, pulling it away from his body, and holds it on the couch between us. His fingers absently brush across my knuckles. “What happened between last night and now? You kicked me out of your bed and wouldn’t even let me kiss you goodbye. Did you hurt so well all day you couldn’t stop thinking about me?”

  As he jokes, I start to see the real Griffin behind his cocky swagger. He laces his words with dirty humor and bravado, but there is a trace of vulnerability, and even confusion, he is trying to hide.

  I wave my free hand and shake my head. “I thought about it some more and realized that maybe we can both use each other in some way. Why else would there have been this crazy tension between us from the beginning? Why else would I have gotten wet when you pulled me back to you the first time I tried to walk away?” Griffin squeezes my hand tightly, then quickly relaxes as if he didn’t mean to.

  I shocked the shock master?

  “What are you saying? Tell me exactly what you want. I don’t want to read into anything and have you blow up on me when I get it wrong.”

  I look into his impossibly blue eyes, deep like the sky and full of promise. “I want sex with you, as much and often as we want. But we leave it at that. It stays here, between us, and doesn’t interfere with our work. It can’t. I don’t want to mess up what the team has going for it, or to complicate things on that end by introducing this new...thing between us. Does that make sense?”

  “You want sex, no-strings attached? Do you know how impossible that is—”

  I stop him when I place my fingertips to his full, soft lips. “Shh, be pretty.” His lips pull up into an amused smile when I drop my fingers. “It’s not impossible. We just have to set clear boundaries up front. Act normal around the team, even if that means we insult each other. You do your thing, I do mine. We have a mutually beneficial sexual relationship. We don’t hurt anyone in the process.” I think of Wyatt and his hurt face when I admitted I had feelings for Griffin. I will have to work to repair that damage and make sure we are on friendlier terms again. “Can we do that?”

  Griffin pulls his fingers through his messy hair. “Is that really all you want from me? Is it either agree to this, or nothing? I mean, I’m not complaining. Banging you is high on my list of things I want to do as often as I can.”

  “Yes.” It doesn’t matter if I want more from him than j
ust the hot, hard sex I know he will give me. There’s no way to take this messy situation and make it stay within the rigid lines of professionalism if we want more.

  He sighs deeply, his chest rising and falling with the action. “All right. But what happens if something more develops?”

  “It’s not going to. We agree to not let it. It’s sex, no-strings, remember?”

  I hope like hell that we can both stick to this. I want him so badly, but I don’t want to compromise what I have with the team in the process. I’m walking a thin line that requires incredible balance. I just hope I can manage it.

  “Well then, why don’t we try out our new, what did you call it? Mutually beneficial sexual relationship? As long as you scream my name every time you come, I’m game.”

  And he is. I can see his enthusiasm starting to tent his pants right now.

  I take his glass from his hand and set it next to mine. I pull my knees under me and slowly move toward him, keeping my eyes trained on his. “I guess we have to start somewhere. I think we’ll figure it out as we go.” My whispered words pass from my mouth into his as I breathe against his slightly parted lips.

  He closes the gap between us, taking my mouth with an almost violent haste that leaves me breathless in an instant. I let his tongue explore my mouth, like this is the first time we’ve kissed even though it’s most definitely not. His mouth tastes stringent like vodka and fruity like Mas Boost, and underneath it all there is a taste so sweet and amazing I want to devour him. I place my hand on his chest, over his heart, and feel his pec muscle flex as his pulse hammers away. I crawl forward and straddle his lap, keeping our mouths connected and letting his hands naturally find my thighs, my hips, while my own slide into his hair.

  Our kisses go on, hard and demanding. Our hands begin to rove and explore. His back is just as nicely defined as his front. My fingertips explore every divot and delight in the way the muscles coil and flex as his own arms circle me, his hands sliding under my tank top and making my skin burn. His hands travel low, his fingers squeezing and kneading my ass, rocking my hips over the hard length that is pressed between us.

  I pull back from our kiss, pulling my tank top over my head and being rewarded with his hands that instantly move to my bra, unclasping and freeing my breasts for him to mold and squeeze.

  “Say it, baby. Tell me what you want me to do.” Griffin’s voice is thick and makes things low in my body throb.

  I tip my head back and allow his mouth access to my throat, my shoulder, my nipples that harden under his tongue. “Fuck me.”

  With no effort, Griffin lifts me off the couch, holding me in his arms as he walks me back to his bedroom. It’s another sparsely furnished space with a queen-sized bed without a headboard, covered by a soft gray duvet. A black dresser stands in a corner and a matching nightstand cozies up to the bed, where he lays me softly.

  “I’m not going to be gentle, Shelby. I don’t care if you’re sore from last night. I want you so badly and hard and rough, I’m not going to be nice about it.”

  I stretch my arms and arch my back. “I can handle you.”

  So maybe I wasn’t prepared for the speed with which he would descend on me. The force with which he would drag my jeans and panties off my legs. The hot, searing pressure of his fingers finding my core. Or how intently he would lick and bite at my mouth. But oh my God, do I love it. I wrap my arms around him and pull him close, biting his lip and licking his mouth.

  He leaves my body abruptly. I lift my head and lean back on my elbows to watch as he sheds his pants, the boxer briefs following immediately. Jesus. I could never go blind. I love seeing his body too much. Feeling his thick length against me, in the dark, is no match for seeing him free of restraint and pointing at me in the light of day. His nightstand is opened, a condom rolled on, and he’s over me once again.

  “I’ll tell you how beautiful and perfect you are later. Right now, I just need to bury myself inside you.”

  And that’s what he does.

  He flips me onto my stomach, pulling my hips up, and buries that thick cock right to the balls inside me. I press my face into the bed as I moan. I’m a little sore still, but in the best kind of way that says I was used hard and loved every. Fucking. Minute. That soreness is quickly replaced by desire for more as he drags himself through me.

  “Goddamn. That perfect, heart-shaped ass,” he says, slowing his movement and smoothing his palm along my cheek. He gives me a quick smack that burns but has me clenching his length.

  “I thought you said you’d tell me how perfect I am later?” I breathe into the bed.

  “When it’s your ass in the air and I can watch myself slide in and out of you, you better know how perfect it actually is. Fuck.” He pulls out of me entirely and I raise my head to see what he’s doing. “You feel too damn good that way. I want to last longer than a horny fourteen-year-old.”

  He scoots up on the bed and pulls me off my knees to straddle his lap, letting me take him inch by inch as I settle onto him. My breath hitches as he stretches me wider this way. I’ve never been so completely filled by a man before. Never felt how connected that would make us. How much you become one. As I rock my hips my eyes close, unable to stay open with the delicious feeling of fullness and the friction I’ve found against him.

  His hands grip my hips, pulling and pushing me faster until my breathing becomes irregular, gasping or forgetting to breathe as I flat-out sprint toward my release. I nearly pull off him entirely as my orgasm rocks me, creating so much sensation it is almost too much. Only his hands keep me in place as he flexes his hips up to continue pumping in and out of me.

  “Oh fuck...Griffin,” I moan, my hands squeezing his shoulders as the waves keep rolling over me.

  “That’s right, baby,” he murmurs, sitting up and pulling me against his chest where I cling and bury my face in his neck. His hips rock slower, easing me down from that almost too sensitive place he took me. I didn’t know orgasms could be so good they almost turn painful.

  He kisses my cheek, breathes into my ear, and holds me tight as his hips pump faster. I moan into his neck as he bites my shoulder and comes, his hips pushing into me and his legs trembling with the force of his release.

  He falls back on the bed, rolling me to the side so he can get rid of his condom. He’s back in a second, making me giggle softly as he nuzzles my chest and fits me into his side.

  “I think we figured out what to do.” I sigh softly and enjoy how his fingers comb through my hair.

  “You’re fucking right we did. I don’t think it would be possible to mess anything up with you. Your body is made for fucking. Like these perfect titties that bounce and sway with every thrust.” He mounds my breast into his hand and squeezes. “And that perfect round little ass that just begs to be spanked.” He reaches around and takes a handful of me, rubbing a circle with his palm. “And who would know you were hiding some of the prettiest body art a guy could find. What is this for?” He traces the tiny infinity sign and script tattoo on my left ribs, right next to my heart.

  My heart lurches, my post-coital glow softening the heartbreak that speeds back to my brain at the mention of my tattoo.

  “It’s for my mom. The year she was born is written into the bottom right half of the infinity sign, and the year she died curls over on the left. 1966 and 2002. The script under it says ‘She lived and laughed and loved and left’.”

  “I’m so sorry for your loss,” he says, his fingers pressing gently against the tattoo.

  And for some reason, I actually believe him.

  “I’ve got my own memorial ink, right here.”

  He pulls away from me as I look at the underside of his right bicep where script runs in a line from his armpit to elbow. Daniel Hauwert McGregor gone but not forgotten 1961-2007.

  “My dad.”

  I slide my fingers over his arm and look into his eyes that hold a reserved sadness that he has managed to overcome.

  “It sucks to lose
them, huh?”

  I nod and wish we hadn’t gotten onto this track. I can’t help the sadness that creeps into my heart, dampening the fiery lust and connection we had established.

  He must feel the same, as he dips his head to run his tongue around the infinity, which immediately gets my mind on something other than losing my mom. His tongue works its way along the full underside of my breast, tracing a path to my nipple that he sucks into his mouth and bites. I suck in a breath and pull his hair, forcing his mouth off my skin.

  “Don’t you dare mark me in any way, got it? I don’t want bite marks or hickeys or something stupid like that all over me.” I release his hair.

  If only it were so simple for him to not leave a mark that is unseen. I feel branded by him, my skin burned and blistered and my heart never the same.

  “What if I want to leave my mark all over you?” he asks, a mischievous smile on his face as his mouth and teeth return to my skin, nipping a path down my stomach. He’s freaking sexy as his blue eyes look up at me while doing naughty things to my body.

  My muscles tremble at his touch, but when his lips close over the skin below my belly button and he starts to suck hard, I smack him in the head with my palm. “You know how much skin I have to show every weekend. Don’t be an asshole and make me feel like a cheap slut with hickeys where people can see them.”

  “Yeah, I know.” His eyes grow dark to match the tone of his voice. He considers me for a moment, then smiles. “I guess I’ll have to find a place no one is going to see but me.”

  His eyes hungrily travel along my body, stopping at the apex of my legs. His shoulders bunch as he slides himself down the same path his eyes just traveled, pushing my thighs apart and easing his hands along my ass to hold my hips.