Page 81 of Griffin

“Did you?”

His voice holds some hostility — and I don’t understand why.

His fingers tighten around me as he dips his head to my neck, lips caressing the skin softly.

“I heard you were with that prick.”

My eyes ping open.

“Finlay?” I breathe, arching my back beneath his touch. “We had some drinks, that’s all.”

Griffin stiffens, twisting us so I’m back against the counter. He lifts me as I grip his shoulders, letting out a squeal.

Who told him that?

“I told you, didn’t I?” Griffin says, his finger pressing against my lips, dragging down my chin. His other hand slides up my thigh beneath my dress. His words are muffled as I roll my shoulders, enjoying his touch more than ever. “You’re mine.”

A flicker of excitement ignites within me as his fingers touch my panties, stirring my wetness.

“I know,” I whisper against his lips, staring into his eyes as he pushes a finger inside me.

It’s beautifully invasive, and he knows it.

“Did you let him touch you?” Griffin asks his tongue swiping over my lips teasingly, his finger still within me.

“No,” I reply, wrapping my arms around his neck. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

I’m rewarded with a grunt as his finger leaves me, lifting me into his arms as he strides over to the sofa.

My eyes fall to the table when he pushes me down, his mouth distracting me from the two wine glasses — one with lipstick stains on.

But I want him too much.

I need him.

He’s had a woman here, Ivy.

Emotion fills my throat as he kisses me expertly, his hands creating chaos as they stroke my skin.

I break away, and he frowns at me, his full mouth parted as he follows my gaze.

“Nothing happened here, either.” Griffin shrugs, tilting my chin to look at him.

My heart aches.

When I scramble up, his eyes fill with annoyance as I wave a hand at the glasses.

“Who?”

My chest is heavy; my breathing is ragged. He stares down at me, a smirk on his lips that makes me want to punch him.

“Christina.”

That fucking witch.

“The waitress?” I snarl as he chuckles, shifting me so he’s lying between my legs. He stares at me with amusement, and I glance back at the glasses.

“Nothing happened?”

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