Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 55171 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55171 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
“I haven’t thought about it, honestly. I’m pretty set right now, but be sure to leave the information with Jeremy at the bar, and I’ll take a look,” I reply.
“Will do,” he responds.
“Have a good night.” I close down any further conversations with others. Stormy’s here because I asked her to come, not to watch me work. It was me who was unwilling to wait until tomorrow when the bar is closed and we could have some damn alone time. If I weren’t hellbent on being around her as much as possible now that she opened the door, I would have waited. It’s no longer an option. Stormy is doing shit to me I never thought possible. Thinking things like giving up my adrenaline junkie ways in order to be home more. Yeah, there’s a lot standing in our way, but who fucking cares? I sure don’t, and the town of Jasmine, South Carolina better get it out of their heads that they’ll make her feel uncomfortable.
“You okay?” Stormy’s once relaxed body is now rigid. No longer is she leaning toward me, and her hand that was holding me is now gone. I was so caught up in trying to shut a conversation down that I didn’t realize something had happened. My eyes sweep over her face, cataloguing her look, noticing she’s looking straight ahead, at the dance floor yet not. She is closing down. Something happened, and I want to know the who, what, and why. Now.
“Yep, I’m fine.” Clearly, she’s not fine. It’s the furthest from the truth, but talking about it out in the open with more prying eyes is not what she needs.
“Come on.” My hand resumes its place on her lower back, and I notice hers doesn’t. This time, the crowd doesn’t clear as much of a path. More people are piling in, and my only option is to move Stormy so she’s in front of me. The scowl on my face must show people I’m busy because no one stops us again as we forge a path on the outside of the dance floor. The lights go from shining in different colors to a more muted tone. We finally hit the door to the employee only hallway. I punch in the code, open the door, and the noise quiets down once it shuts behind us.
“Wow, I had no idea how this was set up,” Stormy says. My hand reaches for hers as we walk toward my office.
“Working is impossible when you can’t hear yourself think. This is all soundproof. The main door has a keypad, and so does my office.” I’m behind her and her hand on the railing, hips swaying and jean skirt hiking up a sliver at a time.
“That makes sense.” I count each step. My cock is ready to take things farther. My head is telling me to calm the fuck down and figure out what had Stormy upset downstairs. The damn bastard, he doesn’t like that idea. Well, that’s too damn bad.
“Put the code in, Seven-Four-Seven-Zero,” I give her the code to my office, hands going to her hip and my front plastered to her back.
“Griff.” Her voice trembles as she does what I say, no questions asked.
“We’re going to talk, mainly you. I want to know what happened downstairs, then we’re going to eat. If this night plays out like it should, you’ll be in my bed. Tonight.” She turns around, hair swinging around her shoulders as she does, and I step into her space. I watch as her eyes heat with desire, then narrow into slits, and finally, she takes a deep breath and holds it for a moment, as if she’s counting to five in her head before letting it out.
“Let it go. It doesn’t matter. And who said anything about me sleeping with you?” She cocks a hip, a tilt of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
“Not letting it go. If I have to get it out of you another way, I will, and baby girl, no one said a word about sleeping tonight.” Her sharp intake of breath is the only tell I need. My hands grip her waist, pulling her toward me, my legs bracketing her on either side as she walks backwards, not stopping until my desk meets her ass, and then my mouth is on hers.
7
STORMY
Griff takes my mouth, that’s the only way to describe it. There’s no buildup, no soft touches or slow licks. My hair is fisted, he’s holding me where he wants, lips and tongue devouring me whole, and I’m along for the ride, eagerly. If Griff were to hold me captive, I’d be his willing victim. If only I could keep hold of this feeling. The sensations are unlike any I have ever experienced before, Zach and with the others. No one has ever made me feel this alive. It’s as if I’m on a tightrope, balancing for dear life, holding on as tightly as I can but letting go. It would be the most freeing ever.