The Closer

by Rhonda Nelson

  Aside from the fact that she didn’t know whether Griff would even want to continue their—relationship? acquaintance? affair? whatever the appropriate label—beyond this weekend, the logistics alone would be a nightmare. Granted, other couples managed to make long-distance relationships work, but she imagined that there was an endgame plan, one that ultimately resulted in one or the other party relocating.

  Unfortunately, that was out of the question for both of them.

  Griff’s job and family were in Atlanta. Her job and father were in Shadow’s Gap. Neither scenario was likely to change, and it was a long damn way from Georgia to West Virginia.

  Even if they wanted to try to make it work—and admittedly she was just smitten enough to be so inclined—chances were they’d only be setting themselves up for heartache later. Or, at the very least, she would. Though she hadn’t known Griff long enough to really know him—his likes and dislikes, foibles and fetishes—she still knew enough about him to recognize the key elements of his character, the kind of man he was, the kind of man he strived to be...and, frighteningly, that was enough for her to be half in love with him already.

  Point of fact, she’d never been in love before and, while most of her friends were married and had children, Jess had never felt as though her life was lacking or unfulfilled because she didn’t. She was happy with the status quo. Though she’d dated enough men who’d passed muster—who weren’t intimidated by her hobbies or independence—she’d nevertheless never met one who made her want to don a veil and give up birth control. Were a husband and family of her own anywhere in her future? She didn’t know. She supposed it could happen. But if it didn’t, she’d never doubted that that would be all right, as well. She cast a covert glance at the man next to her.

  But if there was ever a guy who could make her second-guess herself, then it was Griffin Wicklow.

  She was playing with fire, Jess thought, dancing too damn close to the flames.

  His cell vibrated on the coffee table, drawing her attention and, though she didn’t intentionally read the display, she noticed it, anyway. Justin again. He seemed to text a lot, which described nearly every teenager in the modern world, she knew, but she couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to it for Griff’s little brother. Her antennae had been twitching where the boy was concerned.

  Griff casually leaned forward, picked up his phone and read the text. To the untrained eye, one might have thought his expression didn’t change, but Jess perceived the slightest tightening around his mouth.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Seemingly startled, his gaze swung to hers. “Nothing,” he said. “It’s just a text from Justin. He wants me to call him again.”

  “Oh, okay.” She leaned forward, preparing to stand. “I’ll give you some privacy then.”

  He grabbed her arm, tugged her back onto the couch. “I don’t need any privacy,” he told her. “I’m not going to call him back right now.”

  Something about the “right now” sounded off, as if he’d tacked the words onto the end of the sentence for her benefit. “Why not?” Jess asked. “We’re finished for the evening. There are no more press events or fittings.”

  “You should have gone to dinner with Mr. Pershing and Mr. Nolan,” he said, evidently trying to change the subject. He had diversion tactics down to an art form. “You didn’t have to refuse on my account.”

  “I didn’t,” she lied. There was no way in hell she would have left him alone to guard the bra. Not that he wasn’t fully capable of taking care of himself or that she expected to be a whole lot of help if they were attacked, but the idea of being away from him to deal with it on his own had been out of the question.

  She strongly suspected he’d been left too much to deal with on his own.

  He grinned at her, lifted a disbelieving brow. “You’re telling me you’d rather have a room-service cheeseburger than a gourmet meal at one of the finest restaurants New York has to offer?”

  “Truthfully, no,” she admitted with a regretful shrug. “But the company is much better here.”

  His smile widened, evidence that he’d liked her response.

  “You never answered my question,” she reminded him.

  His grin momentarily froze. “What question?”

  Jess rolled her eyes. “Really? We’re going to play this game again?” She heaved a disappointed sigh. “It would be so much more efficient if you’d just tell me what I want to know.”

  “Efficient?” he repeated, nearly gaping at her. “That’s the word you’ve decided best communicates your nosiness?”

  “Of course not,” she said. “It’s the one I thought would most appeal to you.”

  Impossibly, he looked even more shocked. He shook his head. “You’re shameless, you know that?”

  She nodded once. “I am. Now, what’s the problem with calling your brother?” Family was family. She didn’t buy into this “half” business. “Is he irritating? Annoying? Do you not like him? What?”

  Griff sighed, looked away and passed a hand over his face. She could tell he was debating the merit of telling her to mind her own damn business versus confiding in her. She desperately hoped that he chose the latter.

  He released another breath, then shot her a dark but resigned look. “No, he’s not irritating or annoying,” he said, much to her triumphant relief. “And yes, as it happens, I do like him.” He looked away, staring at the fire. “He’s a good kid.”

  Jess felt her brow furrow with confusion. “Then I don’t understand. What’s the problem?”

  He dropped heavily back against the couch. “The problem is that he wants a relationship with me, and it’s going to cause pain to other members of my family.”

  Ah. She inclined her head. “Your mom and sister would object?” While she wasn’t in possession of all the facts and history, that seemed a little harsh. It wasn’t Justin’s fault that his father was an ass any more than it was anyone else’s.

  He shook his head. “No, they wouldn’t—that would be petty,” he added, then hesitated. “But my mother never got over my father and, while Glory never really knew him, I know that his absence hurt her. Justin is the kid my father raised, and his mother is the one my father didn’t leave.” He lifted a shoulder, his gaze haunted with helplessness. “Whether it’s fair or not, Justin’s a reminder of all that. I can’t just ignore it because we share DNA.”

  Jess winced, offered a sympathetic smile. “A sticky wicket then?”

  He nodded. “Very much so.”

  “And I take it Justin wants to be a part of your family? At least get to know you and your sister better?”

  “He does.”

  “Well, you can hardly fault his good taste, can you?” she teased. “I mean, who wouldn’t want you for a big brother? Come on. Former ranger, security expert, man with the plan,” she said. “And I don’t know your sister, but it sounds to me like you helped raise her. If that’s the case, then she’s got to be pretty remarkable, as well.”

  “She is,” he said, his gaze twinkling with admiration.

  Jess hesitated. “Can I make a suggestion?”

  He lifted a sardonic brow. “Would it matter if I said no?”

  “Ordinarily, no,” she admitted because it was the truth. “But in this case, yes, it would.” She grinned and leaned forward, as though sharing a little secret. “I’ll admit that I’ve pressed you for answers, but we both know that if you really didn’t want me to have them, then I wouldn’t.” She snorted indelicately and rolled her eyes. “You don’t just play your cards close to your vest, you hide them beneath the table, and I am more than a little confident that even a firing squad at the ready couldn’t make you give up your hand unless you chose to do so.”

  A bark of uncomfortable laughter erupted from his throat. “You think so, do you?”

/>   “I don’t think,” she corrected. “I know.” And he hated it, Jess thought, but she decided against pointing that out, as well. She liked unnerving him, but scaring the hell out of him was another matter altogether.

  “You were going to make a suggestion?” he prompted, clearly uncomfortable with the direction their conversation had taken.

  “Yes, I was,” she said. “I understand your position and the fact that you don’t want to needlessly hurt your mother or sister, but...they’re adults, Griff, and Justin isn’t.” She bit her lip and softened her gaze. “He’s a kid who’s been through hell and you’re his hero. And I just want to point out one more thing and then I swear, I’ll shut up about it, but ask yourself this. If your father has been such a wonderful dad to him—when historically he’s proven that he’s not—then why is Justin trying so desperately to have a relationship with you? Is it because you gave him a kidney? Or could it be something else?”

  He stilled, his gaze turning inward, then he looked at her and shook his head. “I...I don’t know,” he said. “Those are very good questions.”

  “I don’t think that you have to make a choice between Justin and your mother and sister,” she continued. “I think you should ask yourself if you want a relationship with your brother. And if that answer is yes, then let the chips fall where they may. Your family loves you. I can’t imagine that they wouldn’t want you to be happy.”

  She imagined it had been so long since he’d considered his own happiness, that putting others first had simply become second nature, that he no longer even considered his own wants and needs. Which was honorable, she’d admit, but hardly fair.

  He glanced over at her, a wan smile on his distractingly sexy lips. “I’m sure you’re right. Thanks,” he added, almost as an afterthought, as though he wasn’t accustomed to sharing his gratitude.

  Jess grinned at him, then stood and straddled him, wrapping her arms around his neck and resting her forehead against his. “Anytime,” she said, meaning it. She’d gladly be his confidante, particularly when she grimly suspected that he didn’t have one.

  She brushed her lips over his, reveling in the feel of his hands as they settled on her hips, and felt him instantly harden beneath her. Need coiled through her belly, making her breath stutter out of her lungs. She’d showered earlier and hadn’t bothered to dress for bed, but had simply donned the hotel robe.

  Best Decision Ever, she decided as his warm palms slid over her bare rump. Oh, how she loved his hands. They were large and long fingered, the backs of his knuckles sprinkled with fine auburn hair. Her feminine muscles tightened, slickening her folds, and she deepened the kiss, sucking his tongue into her mouth, deliberately mimicking a more intimate act. He groaned against her tongue, pushed his hands farther beneath her robe and then slid his fingers around until his thumbs brushed the undersides of her breasts. Gooseflesh skittered across her rapidly heating skin, pebbling her nipples. She dragged her lips from his, strung kisses along his jaw, the arch of his cheek, then nipped at his earlobe. He pushed up against her in response, the thin fabric of his boxers the only barrier between them.

  And all of a sudden it was too much. Too damn much. She didn’t want anything between them. Nothing separating them. She wanted to feel the full, hot, long length of him deep inside her, every ridge and vein, every gloriously proportioned inch.

  She pushed her robe aside, baring herself to him, and it drooped around her shoulders, the sash gaping at the waist. His hot gaze feasted on her heavy breasts, then he cupped one and bent his beautiful head and sucked deeply, working his tongue against the sensitive point of her nipple.

  Jess gasped, her lids fluttering shut from the pleasure, then she rocked her hips against him, riding the hard ridge of his arousal. It bumped against her sweet spot, sending another insistent wave of longing through her. “I’ve got a clean bill of health and I’ve got birth control covered,” she said, her voice low and foggy. “You?”

  “I’m clean,” he said.

  Oh, thank God, Jess thought, feeling as if she were about to fly into a million pieces. Her skin was too tight for her body, her clit throbbed with every frantic beat of her heart and need hammered through her, raw and desperate.

  He reached between them, nudged the boxers down, freeing himself. The first touch of the thick crown of his penis against her weeping folds pulled the breath from her lungs and she didn’t get it back until she’d lifted her hips and then impaled herself on him. Their gazes held and locked and for one limitless second the world receded, fell away, leaving only the two of them and this moment—this exquisite joining—and nothing else mattered.

  Shaken to her core, Jess ignored the sudden strains of the wedding march as it cued up in her head and bent forward, finding his lips once more.

  His kiss was different, still desperate, yes, but there was another quality there as well, one that made her eyes moisten with emotion and her heart sing.

  Reverence.

  He felt it, too, Jess thought, tightening around him, lifting her hips, then lowering again, the age-old rhythm taking hold as she frantically undulated her hips. Longing tangled through her, pooled and pounded against her womb, and every lurch of him deep inside her, every magnificent thrust of his hips pushed her closer and closer to the edge.

  She could feel the tension mounting within him, felt it crackle around her like static, lifting the hairs off her arms, the back of her neck. His clever mouth worshipped her breasts, suckling, licking, laving, and his hands curled around her bottom, urging her on.

  “Jesus, Jess— Please— I can’t— I’m not going to— Come for me, baby,” he begged her. “Let it go.”

  She whimpered. She was close, so close. Still... “You first.”

  “Jess,” he said warningly. “Please. I’m dying. You’re killing me.”

  She rode him harder, tightened around him, then reached around and slid a finger over the tight sack of his balls. “You first.”

  His eyes widened. He sucked in a harsh breath, then he bucked violently beneath her. She felt him spasm inside her, a thick hot rush, bathing the back of her womb, and she came hard.

  The orgasm took her unaware, ripping through her so viciously that her vision blackened around the edges, her heart skipped a few beats and every muscle in her body convulsed so thoroughly she developed cramps in her little toes. A low keening cry issued from her throat and she clung to him, held tightly, afraid that she might fly away or fall apart if she didn’t.

  Breathing raggedly, her belly still quaking, Jess finally drew back to look at him. His expression was a mix of awe and wonder, latent desire and satisfaction, and something else, something she struggled to define. But if she had to label it...happy was as good a word as any.

  11

  HAVING REVIEWED EVERY file he’d been given more than a dozen times as well as gone over routine updates on new check-ins and the guest list for the official event—he’d caught flak when he’d insisted that no other invitations were issued—Griff thought he was as prepared as he could possibly be.

  Nothing out of the ordinary had happened at all last night—unless one counted the hours of mindless frantic sex, which he did, of course, but not as it pertained to his mission. His dick shifted as remembered heat curled into his loins.

  As a rule, Griff didn’t go bareback. Too much risk, either from an unwanted infection or pregnancy, neither of which made it onto his list of must-haves. But when Jess had crawled into his lap and settled her sweet sex against him and her robe had opened just enough to see the valley of her breasts and the V of sable curls hovering right over his dick...

  He couldn’t have made it to the bedroom for a condom if his life had depended on it. (He’d been saving the one with the elephant’s trunk.) But...he’d just wanted her, needed her, more than he’d ever needed or wanted another woman before. Something about her j
ust...drew him in, disabled the usual safeguards he’d always had in place, made him want to share his secrets and confess his fears, made him want to forget his plans—his schedule—and live in the moment with her.

  That’s what last night had been about—living.

  Because if anyone knew how to live, it was Jess Rossi. Incredibly, the same hands that could craft some of the loveliest jewelry he’d ever seen could take an engine apart and rebuild it. She liked to drive fast, so she raced, despite the resistance of some of the other drivers. And, just when he’d thought nothing else about her could surprise him, he’d learned that she lived in a tree house. A tree house, for God’s sake! When he’d asked her why, she’d merely shrugged and said why not.

  Why not, indeed?

  While most people conformed to convention, Jess fearlessly thumbed her nose at it and did as she pleased. Not in any way that would hurt other people, but in a way that made sure that she stayed true to herself.

  She was remarkable, Griff thought, genuinely unique. And she had a singularly unique way of getting inside his head—terrifying, he’d admit—but also strangely...comforting. She didn’t attempt to see through him, but instead really looked. It was a minute distinction, but one that was significant all the same.

  A knock suddenly sounded on the door. No doubt that would be Andre, he thought. He’d annoyed the stylist to no end last night when he’d called him and insisted that Jess’s hair and makeup be completed in their suite, but Griff refused to take any unnecessary risks. And the fact remained that they were safer in the room than anywhere else.

  The biggest risk would come when they went downstairs to dress for the runway.

  If it had been possible to do that in the room, too, he’d have insisted on that as well, but they were too far from the venue and the less time Jess spent in the bra the better. Since the Owl hadn’t made his move last night, then logic demanded that he’d attempt to make the hit today.

  Griff was ready.