Page 61 of Holding Out

“I was pretty determined to behave myself after that,” Griff said.“But—”

One corner of her mouth turned up.“But?”

“Then I saw you.”

Her breath caught, her cheeks flushed, and heat slammed him.

“It made me think ...Nate and Alia don’t get to decide this for us,” he said.“Unless ...Unless that’s what you want, too?”

She shook her head.

“I figure, I still have millennia of sexual experience to convey, and we only have a week and a half to do it in.”

Her half-smile grew into one of those all-out sunshine smiles, and he resigned himself to going to hell.Happily.

He turned toward the big copier.“It’s pretty basic,” he said.“One copy, on the glass, hit this button.If it’s not on, it takes a fucking age to warm up, but otherwise there’s nothing to it.If you want to do a bunch, like a packet of papers, you can do the doc feeder, but that’s easy, too—just put them here and push the button and it’ll detect.If you run into trouble, text me and I’ll come rescue you.”

He laid his original on the glass.“Multiple copies you can type the number you want, like so—and then you just have to kill time while you wait for them to finish.”

Not giving her time to think, he turned, backed her up against the wall, and kissed her, muffling whatever she’d been about to say.

She gave a little sigh and her body softened between his and the wall, yielding.Not so for his.He went from plotting his next move at half-mast to raging, and there wasn’t enough space between their bodies for him to be coy about it.

There was no need, anyhow.She wriggled her hips—putting pressure on him right where it counted.As he kissed her, she parted her lips and let him sweep his tongue in so he could savor her.

He tore his mouth away and, with more difficulty, his body from the warmth of hers, crossed the room in two strides, and closed and locked the door.

She made a sound, and he turned to see her leaning against the wall, looking like she was about to slide to the floor.He strode back and caught her in his arms.

“We’re going to kill two birds with one stone,” he said.“‘Standing’ and ‘Quickie.’Unless you have an objection.”

She moaned.

“I’ll take that as ‘no objection.’”He reached down and pushed up the hem of her dress, his hand finding the silky smoothness of her bare thigh.She whimpered.He slid his palm up further and his fingertips met lace, then damp fabric.“Ah, Becca, God—”

“Griff, hurry.”

“The door’s locked.”

“Not that.Hurry because I need you now.”

Damn.Damn.Damn.“Get these off.”

She pushed her panties down—black cotton boy shorts edged with lace—and stepped out of them, while he wrestled the button and zipper of his jeans, then dug out the condom he kept tucked in his wallet and sheathed himself.With one hand he gripped his cock; with the other he found her curls, parted them, and breached her entrance with his fingers to make sure she was ready for him.She was, slick and enticing; he groaned at the feel and she made a matching sound and wriggled against his touch.He pressed a thumb to her clit, easing back and forth over the slippery nub.

“Come for me.”

Obligingly, she did, huskily calling his name.

He picked her up and urged her to wrap her legs around his waist.She gathered up her dress with one hand and wiggled her ass, seeking him.He didn’t need a written invitation.He slid into her like she’d been made for him—which to be honest, it felt like she had—and she settled down on him, taking him as deep as she could and moving her hips in time with the last pulses of her orgasm.That was all it took—that and one hard pistoning of his hips—and he was coming deep inside her.

They stayed like that for a long time.Long enough that he honestly wasn’t sure what they’d done could qualify as a quickie anymore.He just didn’t want to move.Not quite yet.He told himself it was post-sex hormones.If they were horizontal, he’d be asleep.

Whatever the damn reason, he kept his face against her hair, breathing in the vanilla scent of her, and his arms wrapped tight around her, keeping her close and safe.

After he’d set her down and they’d done everything they could to put themselves back together again, the condom crumpled in a sheet of copy paper, he said, “Anyway, that’s how the copy machine works.”

“Thanks for the lesson,” she said wryly.“I’ll let you know if I need future assistance.It’s obviously a two-person job.”

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