“Why did she finally divorce your father?”
Inhaling, Griffin held his breath and then let it out slowly. “She didn’t divorce him. He divorced her.”
“But... But why? Why would he leave, Griffin?” Belinda stuttered. “He had the best of both worlds—a married man with a family behaving as if he were single.”
“Grant and I threatened him.” Griffin recognized shock and another unidentifiable emotion in Belinda’s eyes when she met his gaze. “I was a junior in high school when Grant came home from college during a school break and we sat down together to discuss our parents’ marriage. Nothing had changed in more than twenty years. My dad was still sleeping with other women, and my mother was still fighting about something she couldn’t change or control.
“She’d become an insomniac. She stayed up half the night, hoping to witness the time he came home. I had no idea what she was going to do with that information except to use it if or when she decided to divorce him. And, even worse, she’d begun following him and confronting his women.
“I told my brother we were going to lose our mother to an emotional breakdown or she was going to confront the wrong woman and end up dead. We set up a private meeting with Dad and told him that if he didn’t move out of the house we were going to kick his ass and throw him out. To this day I couldn’t say for sure whether I would’ve actually hit my father. Thankfully I didn’t have to be put to the test.”
“How soon after did he leave?”
“It took him a week to get up the nerve to tell his wife he was leaving and filing for divorce.”
“What was your mother’s reaction?”
Griffin flashed a devastatingly sensual smile. “She went to a spa in Sedona, Arizona, for two weeks and came back with a new look and new attitude. She occasionally goes out with other men, but she vowed never to marry again.”
“Don’t you think it’s odd that your mom and dad went away together for a month?”
“Not really,” Griffin said, shaking his head. “Mom could care less who her ex-husband sleeps with, and because she’d doesn’t care, Dad knows he has no power over her.”
Belinda smiled. “Would you like for them to reconcile?”
“Maybe I’m selfish, but no. There’s more respect between them now than there ever was when they were together.”
“Your father is wonderful with his granddaughters.”
“That’s because he spoils them.”
And, you don’t, Belinda thought, giving Griffin a knowing smile.
He moved closer, trapping her body between his and the countertop. “What’s that look all about?” he whispered near her ear.
“What look?” said she innocently.
Griffin pressed closer, his groin pressed to her hips. “The one that said I’m also culpable.”
“Do you really think you know me so well that you can read my mind?”
Lowering his head he fastened his mouth to the nape of her neck, smiling when he felt a faint shudder go through Belinda. “I can’t read your mind, but I can read your expressions. Your face is like an open book. You’d never make it as a poker player because everyone would know when you’re not bluffing.”
“It doesn’t matter because I don’t gamble.”
“You’ve never gambled on anything in your life?” he asked, trailing a series of light kisses down the column of her long, scented neck.
Belinda smothered a gasp when she felt her knees weaken as his mouth searched the flesh bared by her tank top. “Griffin, stop or we’re not going to eat tonight.”
Griffin’s hands were busy searching under her top. “Speak for yourself, Lindy. I plan to eat even if Bruiser never makes it into the oven.”
It took a full minute before she realized Griffin wasn’t talking about food. “I happen to like my meat well done.”
“And I like a little pink in mine,” Griffin countered.
She bit back a smile. “You are so nasty, Griffin Rice.”
“So are you, Lindy Eaton, or you wouldn’t have known what I was talking about.”
Belinda managed to make Griffin take a step back when she elbowed him in the ribs. Shifting, she gave him a direct stare. “I wasn’t nasty before I hooked up with you.”
“Am I to take credit for unleashing the nastiness?”
She affected a moue, bringing his gaze to linger on her mouth. “Only some of it.”
Griffin lifted his expressive eyebrows. “Are you saying that there’s more?”
Pressing her breasts to his chest, Belinda went on tiptoe. “There’s so much more, lover. You’ve only begun to scratch the surface.”
Crushing her to his length, his lips descended slowly to meet hers, drinking in the sweetness of her kiss. Deepening the kiss and forcing her lips apart with his thrusting tongue, Griffin wanted to devour Belinda where they stood.
He wanted to take her on the kitchen floor. Now he understood animals in heat whose sole intent was to mate. And that’s what he wanted to do with Belinda. He wanted to mate with her again and again to guarantee that his gene pool would continue. All he thought of was ripping her clothes from her curvy, lithe body and taking her without a pretense of foreplay, but the revelation of her near-rape stopped his traitorous musings. What he didn’t want to do was trigger a flashback of the traumatic episode.
The kiss ended as quickly as it’d begun. Belinda took a step backward, her chest rising and falling as if she’d run a race. She glanced away. “I have to finish preparing dinner.” Her voice was a whisper.
“I’ll be in the back,” Griffin said as he spun on his heels and walked out of the kitchen.
Belinda’s hands were shaking uncontrollably from the build-up of sexual tension that lingered like waves of heat. She knew she’d been as close to losing control as Griffin. It seemed as if every time they came together the encounter was more passionate and explosive than the one that preceded it.
If Griffin hadn’t stopped when he did she would’ve begged him to make love to her in the kitchen, without protection and when it was the most fertile time in her cycle. She’d called her gynecologist and asked that he call in a prescription to her local pharmacist for a supply of birth control pills that she would pick up the following day. She informed Griffin that he would have to continue to use protection until she went back on the Pill. They’d agreed to play house, but having a baby was not a part of the agreement.
* * *
Belinda sat staring at the same page in the book that lay on her lap, seeing but not reading any of the words. This was to become her last night in Paoli that she and Griffin would share a bed. The bus carrying Sabrina, Layla and their classmates from Gettysburg was scheduled to arrive at the school around three the following afternoon.
A moving company had delivered cartons of files from Griffin’s Philadelphia office to the one he’d set up in his home, and the woman he’d hired as a part-time secretary/paralegal spent three full days conferring with him while she set up a filing system.
Belinda left Griffin a note, telling him that she was taking his car to go to her post office to pick up the mail they were holding for her. She also stopped at the pharmacy to pick up the three-month supply of low-dose birth control pills. She visited briefly with her mother, who’d insisted on making lunch for the two of them. Roberta hadn’t asked about Griffin, which led her to believe that she knew they were sleeping together. It’d taken her a while to come to the conclusion that mothers knew more about their children than they let on. She returned to Paoli to discover Griffin had prepared a dinner of roast salmon with basil and sweet pepper sauce and a salad.
Griffin had suggested going for a walk after dinner and when strolling the quiet tree-lined streets holding hands she felt as if she’d stepped back in time when her father had given her permission to date. Most times she and
her boyfriend sat on the porch, or if they left the porch it was to walk around the neighborhood under the watchful eyes of neighbors who were more than willing to report anything that appeared inappropriate to the elder Eatons.
“When are you going to turn the page?” asked a deep voice behind her.
Belinda closed the novel, stood up and turned to find Griffin standing less than three feet away; she wondered why she hadn’t heard his approach. “I guess I was daydreaming.”
Griffin stared at the woman who’d become an integral part of his life. It’d been raining off and on for two days and while the weather hadn’t affected him because he’d been busy setting up his home office, it’d played havoc with her nerves.
She complained she wasn’t used to sitting around doing nothing, which if she’d been home she’d keep busy doing housework, doing laundry or grocery shopping. It was different in Paoli because a cleaning service kept the house spotless and a landscaping company maintained the yard. Griffin shopped for groceries every other month, with the exception of perishables, at a supermarket warehouse, buying in bulk and storing it in the finished basement.
Belinda had changed in front of his eyes. Her body appeared more rounded, which she attributed to eating three meals a day. Sitting outside on the patio during daylight hours had darkened her face to a rich sable-brown. And with her scrubbed face, hair secured in an elastic band, faded jeans and oversize T-shirt she could easily pass for one of her students.
They’d played house for eight days and it would end in less than twenty-four hours when they picked up their nieces.
“Good or bad?”
Belinda smiled. “Daydreams are always good. It’s the nightmares that are bad.”
Griffin angled his head. “Do you ever have nightmares?”
Her eyelids fluttered wildly. “I used to.”
He closed the distance between them, his hands sliding down her arms and tightening around her waist. “I’m glad they’re gone.”
There was something in Griffin’s voice, the way he was touching her that made Belinda want to weep—not in sorrow but in joy.
She loved him.
She’d fallen in love with her sister’s brother-in-law, her nieces’ uncle, godfather, legal guardian and surrogate father. What had begun as a teenage crush was now full-blown passion with no beginning or end.
Burying her face against his strong, warm brown throat, she closed her eyes. “Love me, darling. Please make love to me for the last time.”
“It’s not going to be the last time, Lindy.”
“Surely you’re kidding, Rice. I’m not going to knock boots with you while the girls are in the house.”
Attractive lines fanned out around his eyes when he smiled. “Are you afraid they’ll hear you screaming in the throes of passion?”
Belinda gave him a soft punch in the middle of his back. “So, you got jokes. At least I don’t sound like a bull. You make more noise than I do when you’re—”
“Don’t say it, baby,” Griffin warned. He tightened his hold on her waist. “I get the whole picture—sound and visuals.” Bending slightly, he swept her up and into his arms. “Let’s go make some noise.”
Giggling like a little girl, Belinda tightened her hold around his neck. “How nasty do you want me to be?” she teased.
Throwing back his head, Griffin laughed loudly. “I want you to crank that nasty meter to the highest setting.”
She caught his earlobe between her teeth, nipping it gently. “I hope you’ll be able to handle it.”
“Don’t worry about me. Just serve it.”
Belinda stared at the slight indentation in his strong chin before her searching gaze moved up to meet his resolute stare. “I’m going to make you scream like a bitch.”
“Don’t you mean a bull?”
“No-o-o,” she drawled with so much attitude that Griffin bit down on his lower lip to keep from smiling.
She tucked her face into the hollow between his neck and shoulder as he left the porch. “Let’s take a shower together,” Belinda suggested as Griffin entered his bedroom.
Griffin did not drop his gaze as he lowered Belinda until her feet touched the sisal rug under his feet. He undressed her then stood with his arms at his sides while she undressed him, their chests rising and falling in a syncopated rhythm.
Belinda closed her eyes, her breath quickening when his fingers grazed the outline of her breasts. She opened her eyes and smiled. Resting a hand on Griffin’s chest, she ran her fingertips over his clavicle, the muscles in his shoulder and lower to his breastbone.
He gasped audibly when her fingers grasped his sex, holding him fast. He hardened almost instantaneously. “Come with me.” Like an obedient child, Griffin let Belinda lead him into the adjoining bathroom and shower stall, she still holding on to his erection. “Don’t move, darling.”
Griffin wanted to tell her he couldn’t move even if his life was in the balance. He gasped when she touched a preset dial and lukewarm water flowed down on their heads. Going on tiptoe, she slipped her tongue into his mouth, while her hands worked their magic. Then, without warning, she slid down the length of his body, her mouth replacing her hand. He’d asked Belinda to crank the nasty meter up to its highest setting, demanding that she serve it and that’s exactly what she’d done.
Bracing his palms against the tiles, he closed his eyes and tried thinking of something—anything but the image of Belinda on her knees, his sex moving in and out her hot mouth. Heat, chills and then more heat overlapped the iciness snaking its way up his legs and settling at the base of his spine. A groan slipped through his lips when his knees buckled and involuntary tremors had him shaking like a fragile leaf in a strong wind. The muscles in his belly contracted violently when a moan of helplessness, coming from deep within his chest, exploded. He threw back his head and opened his mouth and bellowed.
Belinda didn’t make love to Griffin. She commanded him with a raw act of possession, branding him with an indelible mark. He was hers and hers alone. Griffin had taken himself out of circulation and she would make certain he would forget every woman he’d ever known. She was relentless, using her hand, tongue and teeth to bring him to the brink of release. Then without warning, she pressed the pad of her thumb against the large vein behind the shaft, manually slowing down the headlong rush of desire to climax.
Griffin’s hands moved with lightning speed when he bent over, anchoring his hands under Belinda’s armpits and pulling her to her feet while forcing her to release his engorged flesh. Supporting her back, he lifted her high in the air.
Belinda’s small cry of shock was smothered when Griffin covered her mouth with a savage kiss that sucked the oxygen from her lungs. She barely had time to react to the rawness of his sexual onslaught when she found herself on her back and he inside her. Moaning aloud in erotic pleasure, she reveled in the sensation of bare flesh fusing. It was the first time they’d made love without the barrier of latex. Her menses, though scant, had come and gone.
The sensations of falling water, the feel of the coarse hair on his legs against her smooth ones and the unrestrained groans near her ear roused Belinda to a peak of desire bordering on hysteria. Passion radiated from her core, spreading outward to her extremities and beyond.
The turbulence of Griffin’s lovemaking hurtled her into a vortex of the sweetest ecstasy. Belinda screamed when she felt him touch her womb and love flowed like heated honey, and she soared higher and higher until she climaxed, experiencing free fall, as Griffin, for the first time, succumbed to le petit mort. She couldn’t move, didn’t want to move as she lay drowning in the lingering aftermath of pure, explosive pleasure.
Griffin recovered before Belinda, coming to his feet. Walking on shaky legs, he reached over and turned off the water. A smile tipped the corners of his mouth when he shifted and saw that Bel
inda had curled into a fetal position. He hunkered down and eased her off the tiled floor.
Her spiked lashes fluttered when she opened her eyes. “Was I nasty enough for you?”
Shaking his head in amazement, he carried her wet body out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. “You were beyond nasty, darling.”
Her lips parted in surprise. “You didn’t like it?”
Griffin smiled at Belinda as if she were a child. “I loved it.” He placed her on the bed and lay beside her, unmindful of the water from their bodies soaking the sheets. He loved her and making love to her. Staring down into the eyes the color of dark coffee, he knew their relationship had changed with the wanton coupling. Belinda Eaton was sexy, passionate and incredibly nasty—the way he liked her.
Fatigue pressed Belinda down to the mattress like a lead blanket. It took Herculean strength to keep her eyes open. She fought valiantly but Morpheus proved victorious. “Good night, darling.”
“Good night, baby.”
Griffin, supporting his head on folded arms, stared up at the ceiling. He lay motionless, startled by the sudden thought that flashed through his mind. How had he forgotten about the man in Florida who’d claimed Belinda first?
And he wasn’t so vain or naive to believe that just because Belinda opened her legs to him it meant she would open her heart to him. After all, he’d slept with women he liked, but didn’t and would never love.
He was in too deep and didn’t know how to extricate himself.
Never had he missed his brother as he did now. Grant had been the levelheaded older brother, wise beyond his years, and whenever he went to Grant in a quandary he came away buoyed with confidence.
He closed his eyes when, without warning, a wave of sadness held him captive then fled as quickly as it’d come. If she’s worth it, then fight like hell for her, said a voice in his head that sounded remarkably like Grant’s.
Forever an Eaton: Bittersweet LoveSweet Deception Page 14