Griffin rubbed his palms in circles over her nipples. The heat, the rasp of the lace, the pressure, were all amazing. “How hard you like it. How soft. How slow. How fast.” He varied movement to match his words.
“Every way you do it is perfect.”
“If you prefer my hands…or my mouth.” Palms still on her breasts, he pressed his mouth to the wet heat at the apex of her thighs. Good thing Griffin had a solid ledge of muscle for his lats, because Chloe dug her fingers into them with all her strength. And moaned. Okay, probably more like half groaned, half shrieked. Because the sensation of his tongue on her most sensitive tissues was phenomenal. Overwhelming. Incredible. Or just so flipping fantastic that maybe there weren’t any words.
“It’s all so good. Griffin, please…”
“Please what?” The vibration of his words against her most sensitive tissue set off another wash of fiery desire. “I’ll do whatever you want, Chloe. Give you whatever you need. You just have to say it.”
“Please make love to me. Now. Right now.” She’d beg more, if necessary. He’d driven away her anxiety and stupid, juvenile fear by ratcheting up her lust at an extraordinary rate. Chloe needed Griffin, needed him inside her, more than anything in the world. If someone offered her a million dollars to stop and walk away, even for a five-minute break, she wouldn’t take it. The only thing that could quell this pulsing, primal want that had her back bowed and all her muscles clenched was Griffin. Only Griffin.
In one swift movement, her teddy was off. Another two seconds for his briefs to go. As she drew in a shaky, deep breath, he threw back the navy comforter. By the time she let out the breath, he’d picked her up and set her in the middle of the soft sheets. And rolled on a condom.
“We can always stop,” he offered as he braced his hands on either side of her head. “At any time you don’t feel comfortable.”
“If you say that one more time, I’ll…” She tried to rack her sex-steamed brain to come up with something suitably awful. “I’ll sell your flight suit on eBay. With the appropriate language letting people know that it belongs to the hero pilot, the leader of the Naked Men, the teenage wonder who saved his friends from certain death on a foreign mountain.”
“Is that a threat? Or blackmail?” As he spoke, Griffin kept up the teasing brush of his body against hers. Leg against leg, belly to belly, in a sinuous motion that had her head reeling.
“A reminder that I want you just as much as you want me.”
He stared down at her, eyes dark as midnight and with a smile full of hot promise. “Not possible.” The kiss that followed was long and drugging. Thorough and toe-curling and—
With a slow push, he was inside her. Chloe braced for pain, for the ripping sensation she’d anticipated. But there wasn’t more than a sharp twinge. Not fun, but not horrible. And not nearly enough to take her out of the moment. Because it dissipated almost immediately, and then the only sensation she had was of the wonder of Griffin inside her.
Chloe didn’t know what to do with her hands. They were knotted in the sheets because she didn’t want to claw a strip off Griffin’s back, but holyfreakingamazeballs that felt good. Thick. He was sooo thick, she felt stretched beyond anything she’d expected, but the sensation of being filled far eclipsed the discomfort.
At least, she thought it was a sensation of being filled. Until he surged forward another few inches. Their pubic bones ground together in the best possible way. The hair on his balls rubbed against her ass. It was so masculine and just plain hot. Then he moved again, in a slow push/pull that never quite stopped and splayed her wide open so that the pulsing core of her stayed in contact with him. It was everything she wanted. And yet she wanted more.
“Chloe, sweetheart, you’re blowing my mind.” His words had a jagged edge to them. Like he was barely containing himself. Which was fine, because she didn’t want the contained version of him. She wanted the same man in bed who pushed helicopters to their limit. The man who didn’t hold back in his pursuit of anything, including her.
So Chloe moved her hands to the tight muscles of his ass and clamped on. Pulled him closer even as she thrust her hips up to meet his. It threw off his rhythm but got her point across. “Don’t be careful, Griff. I can take everything you give me. I want it. I want you. I want more of you.”
As if her words gave the permission he’d been waiting on, everything about Griff shifted. His quads tensed. He grabbed her right leg and hooked it up around his hip, while his other hand relocated to rub his thumb against the painfully, wonderfully taut peak of her nipple. His mouth met hers again. Griff’s tongue moved in conjunction with the hard, fast, insistent thrusts he made into her. The increased pace was exactly what she’d wanted. It left no time between each surging wave of pleasure that rolled through her with every stroke.
Chloe couldn’t breathe. Suddenly, the electrified tingle that had been building along every nerve ending in her body coalesced at the muscles convulsing around Griff’s length. Like a white-hot star exploding at her core, pure bliss detonated, then moved through her in a chain reaction. She tore her mouth from his to scream his name. With a hard shudder and two more fast pounds of his hips, Griff let out a dark roar.
For a few moments, Chloe just reveled in the utter satisfaction. The seismic shift in her status of no longer being a virgin. Relief and surprise that instead of wincing in pain, she was reeling from an unbelievable orgasm, all thanks to Griffin’s obviously being the best lover in the entire world.
Then she heard both of them panting. Felt the rib-crushing weight of Griff’s body when he finally fully dropped onto her. Who needed air? She had six-plus feet of sweaty, sexy man draped all over her for the first time ever. That was something to be savored.
“Are you okay?” One big hand framed her jaw as Griffin lifted himself up to look at her.
“Do you want a status check or a performance review?” she quipped.
“Chloe.” His solemn delivery of her name chided her for her flippancy as hurt flared in his eyes at her tone.
Whoops. Griffin deserved better. Here he was, being all loving and caring and concerned in a way that probably lots of men wouldn’t be the first time. She’d gone all blissed out and happy…and forgotten to check back in to the fact that a seriously wonderful man might be worried about her reaction.
Running her fingers through his soft blond hair around his ear, Chloe said, “Thank you, Lieutenant. I’m spectacular.”
The lines bracketing his mouth relaxed. Griffin nuzzled her neck. “Nice to hear.”
“You know I like precision in my statements, so let me clarify: you were spectacular to me.”
He got up to dispose of the condom. “Also nice to hear.”
“I’d say the experience as a whole was absolutely worth waiting twenty-seven years for.” Sex itself, while all kinds of fun, probably wasn’t worth waiting for quite that long…but sex with Griff? Definitely. “That said, I’m kind of hoping we don’t wait even twenty-seven minutes to do it again.”
“I might need two. To get my breath back in my lungs.”
“Acceptable. There’s a very nice sparkling red with my name on it just waiting to be sipped while you recover.”
Griffin took her hint and brought the glasses back into bed with him. She propped pillows behind them, bunched the sheets up high and tight around them, and snuggled into the crook of his arm. Griffin didn’t say anything, but traced a thumb back and forth across the scar on her side. The scar from the bullet, the day that had changed her entire life.
But that day didn’t have to be the only course change in her life. Tonight could be one, too. Chloe considered whether or not saying what was in her heart was smart. Risky? Yes. But Griffin took a huge risk in writing her that wonderful letter. The least she could do was be equally honest. “Can I tell you something?”
“Is it a list of sexual positions you want to try?”
“No!” Heat flamed her cheeks. Getting the first time under her belt, as
it were, didn’t exactly make her nonchalant about the whole thing. It would take a little more practice—and homework—before she could joke about a list. Chloe guzzled half her glass.
“Is it a decision on pizza toppings? Because if you want to go girly on me and ask for broccoli, it’s just not an option. We’ve got house rules about that sort of thing.”
“Griffin.” Chloe pressed kisses up the sculpted planes of his chest all the way to his lips to stop his teasing. “I think my white-hot passion earlier overshadowed my emotional reaction to your letter. I want to tell you how perfect it was. And to say that I love you so very, very much. Sex with you didn’t just rock my world—it changed it. Loving you, being loved by you, changes everything.”
He kissed her deeply. So deep, so long, it felt like he was sealing in her admission. “No regrets, then?”
“Oh, I’ve got one big one. You were very much in charge. Not a complaint, and you did a magnificent job as team leader”—he shook with laughter beneath her—“but I regret not getting to touch you and explore all of your body.”
“You think you’re ready to take command?” Apparently totally at ease with his nudity, Griffin threw back the sheets. “You’re granted permission to board.”
“Will I get to wear your fancy Coast Guard hat while I’m in charge of this mission?”
“If that’s all you wear,” he said in a low growl as he tumbled her across his lap.
Finishing the wine would have to wait.
Chapter 20
Chloe watched Griffin through the bedroom door as he picked up the trail of clothes they’d left on the floor. He’d come straight over to her apartment as soon as he got off duty, and the sight of him in his trop blues had her climbing him like a pole before the door shut behind him.
“I love that you walk around naked.”
“No other choice. I’m gathering our clothes.”
“I mean you’re not shy. You don’t pull your boxer briefs on to go to the bathroom. You don’t grab a robe.”
“So?”
“So I like watching your muscles ripple and flex from all angles.”
Griffin paused, bent over midscoop off the floor. “Are you staring at me when I’m not looking?”
“Yep,” she said with a satisfied giggle.
“I’ve created a monster. A sexual addict.”
“Yep.”
“How would you feel about leaving the bedroom?”
“You’re cutting me off after a single round?”
“Of course not. But we’ve spent seven nights straight in one of two places—your bedroom or mine. I want to take you out. A real date. With clothes. Other people around. Snooty waiters we can mock.”
“The idea’s intriguing. Especially since I haven’t gone grocery shopping. The cupboards are bare and I’m starving.” Chloe jumped out of bed and pulled on fresh panties and a bra. Realized that if they were going out, she’d have to dive into her rapidly dwindling pile of “real” clothes that Summer had loaned her.
“How about I take you down to Farmers Fishers Bakers, at Washington Harbor?”
“I say yum.” She and David and their mom went there for their brunch buffet at least once a month. Chloe stepped into an aqua shirtdress and came out of the closet. “Want to button me up?”
Instead of jumping on her offer, Griffin straightened from the floor waving a thick piece of cardstock at her. “This is a big deal.”
Damn it. He must’ve knocked the invitation off her nightstand. The invitation she should’ve thrown out without opening. The one that, every year when it came, Chloe stared at for a few weeks, torturing herself with indecision, before finally dropping it into the trash. “Nope.”
Griffin lowered onto her bed to pull on his uniform pants. “It says you’re invited to a ceremony commemorating ten years since the shooting at Raleigh University.”
Right. A solemn ceremony with prayers and reading the names of the dead. As if she’d actually forget any of it, any of them. “The school holds one every year. I’m sure this particular one won’t be that much more special. Longer speeches, maybe.”
“Do you want me to go with you? I can rearrange my duty schedule, take the day.”
The offer was typical Griff—sweet and ready to go the extra mile. Even more so, given the scrutiny he was under during his tryout as squadron leader. She buttoned her dress, looking down. Hoping he’d let it drop. “I’m not going.”
“What?”
The amount of shock in his voice gave a pretty strong hint that he indeed wouldn’t let it drop. So Chloe injected more firmness into her tone. “I’m not going. I never go.”
This time his jaw literally dropped. If there was a picture in the dictionary next to not dropping it, it’d be Griff’s face, covered equally in five-o’clock stubble and disbelief.
“Why not?”
This question had an easy answer. One she’d had plenty of practice giving. “I don’t want to.”
“Chloe. The shooting was a pivotal moment in your life. You need to deal with its aftermath.”
How dare he? Sure, he’d been in his own life-and-death tragedy. But that didn’t give Griffin the right to judge how she dealt with hers. “Its aftermath? I dealt with that for days and weeks as I healed from my bullet wounds. As I went to funerals for fellow students. As I sat at Summer’s bedside, hoping that she’d come out of all this the same sunny person, but not knowing if it would happen. Don’t you begin to lecture me on the aftermath.”
“You should go,” he insisted with a stubborn jut of his chin. “If not for yourself, then for other people who would take comfort in seeing you.”
She’d heard that over and over and over again. From her family. From her friends. From her therapists. But this wasn’t a majority-rules type of decision. It was hers and hers alone.
“Other people can make their own choices. But their choices won’t affect or change mine.”
“Really? No one else matters?” In two long strides, he crossed the room to tap the framed photo of her and Summer at their first Cherry Blossom tea. “What about supporting Summer? Does she go?”
“Yes.” Yes, damn it. That was the hard part. Summer begged her to go along every year. It was the only thing they’d ever fought about. “Look, I have no desire to reopen a deep, deep emotional wound. One that, with many years and much effort, has finally faded to a faint scar.”
Griff’s eyes now held a challenge. “If that were true, if it were just a healed scar? You’d have a life.”
“Oh, I have a life.” If he was going to fight dirty, Chloe would, too. Griffin obviously was still running from his own personal demons. The way he flung himself into danger showed that he thought himself impervious to death, having cheated it once already. Except that was in no way true. “Unlike you, I treat my own life with caution, like it’s worth something.”
He ran his hands up and down the outside of her arms. The caress was probably meant to calm her down. All it actually did was make her feel handled again. Chloe hated that. Hated also that Griff apparently thought it was an okay way to deal with their fight. So darn sure that he was right, Griff wasn’t even listening to her. What happened to the relationship being a give-and-take? A sharing of thoughts? This was nothing more than Griffin tank-rolling right over her feelings, oblivious.
He looked down at her with patronizing patience. “I’m saying this because I love you. You live secured in emotional Bubble Wrap. You sequester yourself away in this tiny, sad routine. That’s not a life. Let me help you really live.”
Chloe’s anger was pushing at the base of her throat, trying to get out in a howl of outrage and fury. “Stop pushing. You don’t need to save me from a set of deliberate choices that I’ve made.”
“Look at how long you held on to your virginity. That was you not opening yourself up to everything life has to offer. Refusing to truly live. That was you hiding in a coffee shop, never giving any man a chance to find you, let alone date you and sleep with you. Th
at was fear making the choice for you.”
“The idea of sex never scared me. Like a million other women, I just wanted to wait for the right moment and the right man. Not embracing casual sex doesn’t mean I’m scared of it. I live life on my terms. Frankly, I’m not interested in what you want or expect for me.”
“What about what I want for us? I can’t be with someone who isn’t brave.”
“What you call brave, I call an unnecessary risk. Not all of us get off on risk the way you do.”
“Then prove to me, to yourself, just how brave you really are. Go to the ceremony. Take a chance.”
Panic clawed at Chloe. The words themselves weren’t an ultimatum, but it wasn’t hard to interpret what he’d left unsaid. Prove your bravery, or else. But why should she have to prove anything to him? Why wasn’t love enough? Why couldn’t Griff respect her decision?
“I don’t need to let you fix me just to make you feel good.”
Her phone rang. They both flinched. The tinny music was “Walking on Sunshine,” her mom’s ringtone for the month. One that Griff had heard enough to recognize by now. So even though they were in the middle of this enormous fight, Chloe figured he wouldn’t mind her grabbing it. She texted a quick “call you in an hour” and dropped the cellphone onto the bed.
Griff caught it before it hit the mattress. Waved it at her like the phone held a meaning. “Have you ever bothered to ask your mom whether or not she truly wants such a small, tethered life for her little girl?”
“Don’t bring her into this.”
“Why not? Her obsessive need to keep you close controls your life. You choose to let her, and her paranoia is reflected in how you live, where you live. Why not ask her if she’d actually vote for her daughter to break free?”
“Don’t you get it, Griff? Nobody gets a vote. It’s my life. I’m in charge. Nobody else.”
“You know that’s not true. You’re scared, Chloe. You’ve worked hard at setting up the façade that you’re fine. Make excuses for the state of things. But deep down, it isn’t your mom holding you back from living life to the fullest. It’s you. Your fear. Your hesitancy.”
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