Page 2 of The Protective Gryphen

Ian leaned on the doorjamb.

“I could eat.”

Gryphen pulled out snacks and two frozen meals.

“What tickles your fancy, Ian? There’s turkey or there’s pasta?”

He grinned.

“We could share. I kinda like both. Want to go halfsies with me?”

When Gryphen looked over, the dimple in his chin made Ian’s heart skip. The man was ridiculously handsome in his black cargo pants and black t-shirt. He was out of his body armor since no one could reach them up here.

The man made his brain go fuzzy with lust.

He couldn’t help himself.

“That sounds like a plan, Mr. Patterson,” he said, putting them both in the microwave and turning it on. “I do like dinner on a jet,” he admitted, opening the refrigerator, and pulling out two small, individual bottles of wine.

“You’re drinking?” he asked, surprised.

Gryphen turned them.

They were non-alcoholic apple cider.

“Callen keeps the legit booze locked up. The kids fly on this jet too. These are the non-alcoholic sparkling cider ones. The only thing I’ll be hopped up on is sugar.”

Ian grinned.

“Fancy,” he said. “Where are the cups? I’ll help you get dinner ready.”

Gryphen told him.

When he was reaching up, they hit a bump of turbulence, and Ian was forced to tumble into Gryphen’s body as he reached out to catch him.

It made him gasp when he came face-to-face with a wickedly smiling Gryphen.

“Hey there,” he said, taking that opportunity to put the moves on the man.

Why not?

Currently, they were out of danger, and the only thing bothering Gryphen was his back. It was sore from the gunshots, but this made him feel better.

They.

Were.

Safe.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to get all caveman-y on him. Whenever he smelled Ian’s cologne and soap on his skin, it made him want to lose control.

Gryphen couldn’t help himself.

“I’d like to kiss you,” he whispered, his lips so damn close to Ian’s mouth.

“Why are you asking?” he answered.

“I don’t want to scare you.”

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