“Prettiest girl in the room.”

“I don’t know about?—”

“I can’t even remember what anyone else was wearing. Just you.”

A happy sigh passes her lips.

I jerk forward and press my mouth to hers. My hand cradles the back of her head, dragging her closer.

She sighs a whispery breath and falls against my chest. Our tongues meet and slide against each other. She tastes spicy from the chicken with a hint of her sweetness.

“Oh.” She pulls away and covers her mouth. “Do I reek of onions?”

“Fuck no. Get back here.” I cup her face and smash my mouth against hers.

She laughs softly, and I swallow each little sound like the greedy fucker I am.

“Griff.” She moans and wriggles against me. Her hips start that slow, maddening roll she does when she’s in my lap.

Fuck. This time we’re alone. In my apartment. My bedroom’s only a few feet away. I slide my hands under her butt and plant my feet to lift us off the couch.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

What the fuck?

Molly’s so into kissing me, she doesn’t seem to hear the knocking at my door. Maybe I’ll follow her lead and ignore it too.

“Griff? Honey, it’s me.” My mother’s pleading voice filters through the door. The artificial motherly tone should be an immediate boner killer, but Molly’s still grinding in my lap.

I yank my head back, breaking our kiss. “She can see my car in the parking lot.” I groan and sit straighter. “I’m sorry.”

She braces herself with her hands on my shoulders and slides out of my lap. Her gaze fixes on the boner turning my shorts into a damn circus tent. Having her eyes on my dick isn’t resolving the situation.

“Uh.” She swipes her tongue over her bottom lip.

Not helping, baby.

“Griff?” Bang. Bang. Bang.

Molly frowns. Her desperate eyes ping around the room like she’s looking for an escape route.

Of all the motherfuckin’ times for Tanya Royal to show up.

“I’ll get the door,” Molly offers, even though it’s clear she’d rather go hide under my bed than deal with my mother. “You go…” She gestures toward my bedroom. “Take care of that.”

“Thanks.” I jump off the couch and pop a quick kiss on her cheek.

Molly

Griff’s mom. The last person in the world I want to see or talk to. Especially when Griff and I were in the middle of such an amazing moment.

I check the peephole. Maybe it’s some other unbalanced woman shrieking Griff’s name out in the hallway?

How would that be better?

Just answer the door!

A gasp catches in my throat as I peer through the tiny fish-eye lens. The haggard woman on the other side looks familiar but...maybe it’s the distortion of the peephole or the dirty glass making her look so...bedraggled.