Page 14 of Dirty Whispers

With Griffin beside me, though, I feel incredibly safe, because I know for a fact he would never let anything bad happen to me. Even though the only observations I've made on how a man should treat a woman come from books and movies. Not factual textbooks. Part of me feels completely unprepared.

I'm especially unprepared for the reality that I'm considering not getting that perfect apartment, and am thinking about moving here instead.

Looking up and down the street, I pretend I'm just writing in a journal as I jot down fragments of conversation that I hear. As always, there's a lot of talk about the weather. Someone had a small birthday party over the weekend. An older man grumbles to his friend that he's positive he knows who is hogging a couple of spy thrillers from the library that he wants to read. Apparently, he's been waiting for over a month, and thinks there should be a fine for slow readers.

That makes me laugh. As I write it down, I almost miss a middle-aged woman talking with an older woman who I would guess is her mother.

"Remember? We have an appointment with Jonah tomorrow to check on that."

"Oh, yes." The elderly lady's eyes sparkle as she smiles. "We'll have to bring extra raspberry tarts in case his new lady friend is acting as his receptionist again."

"We don't know for sure that they're together," the daughter smiles, walking slowly as she holds her mother's arm.

"Pfft. Of course they are. You saw the way he looked at her."

They're out of earshot before I can write down anything else. But it does prove that Jonah at least is being talked about.

That makes my mind race even harder for the next few hours as I take notes at several other downtown spots, then pick up the girls and drive home. Do I want to be talked about? Heck no.

Do I want to be known as Griffin's lady friend, though? Heck yes. I can't help it. Every time his deep, sexy voice murmurs in my ear, it's like I'm drunk on lust and I don't think I ever want to sober up. I just want to ride out this feeling to see what happens next.

You know…for science.

8

GRIFFIN

Cooking for Harper has instantly become one of my favorite activities. My beautiful girl devours every bite of the simple crockpot chicken, potatoes, and carrots on her plate. All through dinner, she tells me about her work, and how she's fascinated by different styles of communication and language.

"So, this project is the last part of your course or something?" I ask as I clear the dishes.

"No. This is an internship for Professor Hewitt. A paid summer job that is relevant enough that I can put it on my résumé."

"What kind of job do you think you'll be looking for?" It occurs to me that she might have to stay in the city for her career. Suddenly my dinner begins to feel heavy in the pit of my stomach. "Are they jobs you can do from home?"

"Oh, for sure. Or in coffee shops, at the library. I like to work in different places." She hesitates. "Looking out the lovely big window of my amazing new apartment." Her shoulders droop. "You have no idea how long I've searched for something in that area in a cute building."

Just the thought of her moving anywhere but here turns my stomach, but I do my best to shrug it off for now.

Harper squeals as I scoop her up in my arms and carry her to the couch. She looks delectable, in a green sundress that makes her skin look even fairer.

"I like to work in different places as well, gorgeous. Remember when I talked about what I wanted for dessert tonight?"

Her lovely eyes blaze. "That wasn't just dirty whispers in my ear to…you know…turn me on?"

"No way."

I lean in to capture her lips with a deep, lingering kiss. Once I feel her pulse kicking in, breath racing, I pull away. "Is that what you want, gorgeous? For me to spread your sexy legs and eat you for dessert?"

My voice is getting low and smoky again. The things this girl does to me. My cock is already throbbing in my jeans, begging for release. Last night I jerked off multiple times in her honor, but nothing takes the edge off. Only her.

Harper nods, wide-eyed. Then her perfect lips turn up in a saucy smile. "Will you forgive me if I giggle? I'm kind of ticklish."

"I'll forgive anything, darlin'."

I sit beside her, sliding my hand across her stomach, then higher, kissing her gently as I stroke her breasts through the thin fabric. Her soft lips open, allowing the kiss to deepen as her body trembles slightly. I love how eager she is.

Finally I pull away, holding the front of her dress out so I can dip my head to take her nipple between my lips. Her little breathy gasp makes my pulse spike.

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