Page 41 of Secret Marriage To My Bosshole

Blaming myself for everything that happens seems wrong, but there is a part of me that thinks I am just as much to blame for my relationship falling.

If I had just done more or paid a little more attention, maybe everything wouldn’t have gone to hell.

Griffin rubbed his hand up and down my arm. “No. You can’t blame yourself for that at all. Even if you both did some things wrong in the relationship, he is still the one who screwed you over.”

“I know. I’m normally good until he calls, and then I start spiraling about my mistakes again. I keep thinking that I’ve fully moved on with my life, and then a call or two from him is enough to send me back to the woman I used to be.”

Griffin kisses my temple, his lips lingering for a moment. “You are not that woman. And really, he took advantage of you. He knew what he was doing from the start. You didn’t stand a chance.”

My eyes well with tears and I blink them back. “I know that. I just hate feeling like a failure.”

Griffin stands up and holds out his hand. “Come on. We’re going home early for the day.”

“You don’t think that’s going to look suspicious?”

“No, because as far as the office knows, I have meetings all day and will need my assistant there to take notes.” Griffin reaches down and takes my hand, pulling me to my feet before letting it go.

“We’re going back to my place, I’m going to fuck your brains out, and then you can eat all the pizza you can handle. The basil pesto one from Mangia is still your favorite, right?”

My mouth hangs open, and my heart skips a beat. My cheeks flush, but I can’t tell if it’s from the anticipation of sex with Griffin or the indulgence of having my favorite pizza in the middle of a workday.

I can’t remember the last time I got pizza with Griffin, and the fact that he remembers my favorite one is even more surprising.

I didn’t think he paid that much attention to me when we were younger.

As we leave the office together, I try to focus on nothing but the pizza we’re going to get instead of how my life feels like it’s hanging on by a single thread.

Griffin hauls me out of the car and tosses me over his shoulder, carrying me into the house after dinner. I laugh and smack his butt, wriggling around and trying to get free.

“If you keep doing that, I’m not going to make it into the house.” He grabs my ass, squeezing hard. “I’ll have to fuck you on the porch where the neighbors can see.”

“You really want to give that old man across the street a show?”

Griffin pins my thighs in place with one arm while reaching for the keys with his free hand. He unlocks the door and carries me inside.

The moment the door is shut behind us, he puts me down and pins me against the wall.

Desire courses through me as he cups the back of my head and pulls me into the kiss. I moan as his tongue swipes across his bottom lip while my fingers sink into his hair.

Griffin nips at my bottom lip, his hands skating down my body to the hem of the skirt.

With a swift motion, Griffin pulls my skirt down to my feet and tosses it to the side, stepping back to rake his gaze down my body.

“You are stunning,” he says.

“And cold,” I reply with a mischievous smile.

He smirks and yanks his shirt over his head. “I’ve heard that body heat is a good way to warm up.”

I laugh and lean back against the wall, kicking off my heels and reaching for the front clasp of my bra. “That’s so cheesy.”

But Griffin doesn’t smile again. He steps into me, the hard outline of his cock pressing against my lower stomach.

He slips his hand between my legs, his fingers sliding along my wet pussy before diving straight inside.

“You’re soaked.” His voice is a low growl as he crooks his fingers against the spot that drives me wild.

“I want you.” I reach down, flicking open the button of his pants.

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