Page 47 of On The Rocks

“Thanks for feeding me. I should get back?—”

“We can pretend this didn’t happen. That I didn’t get my hands on you and hold you last night.” He was still facing the window, his words gravelly.

I fisted my hands at my sides.

What the hell did he say to that?

“You don’t remember any of it,” I reminded him. “It should be easy for you.”

Not me.

The warm weight of him wrapped around me all night would take a while to forget.

But I would be leaving soon.

But he’s perfect for a little distraction.

I gritted my teeth against the little voice.

“I woke up with you in my arms, Lenny. That was more than enough to make me want more.” He glanced over his shoulder, his strongly angled face in profile. “I already did.”

“So, you want to fuck me?” The sharp words tumbled out of me.

His lips tipped up, but the smile wasn’t friendly. “Oh, I want to fuck you, don’t doubt that, Lennon Hathaway.” He turned around and faced me, his arms folded over his chest. “Every part of you fit me and I can only imagine what it would feel like to be inside you. Both of us sweaty and out of breath because it wouldn’t be an easy fuck.”

The jitter was back.

And something lower—an ache unlocked that had been long buried.

I mirrored him, still in the kitchen. For all intents and purposes, I was looking down at him and still I felt at a distinct disadvantage.

I didn’t want his honesty.

I wanted the veneer.

I wanted the easy and uncomplicated Griffin from before.

“A quick and dirty one—got it.” I lifted one eyebrow and stared him down.

“No, you really don’t.” He headed my way, slowly climbing the few stairs between us. “That’s only part of it. I want your ginger fresh scent on me in the morning to start my day. I want it burned into my skin at night.”

I took a step back, bumping into the long, kitchen table.

“So, if you’d prefer we forget about this, I’ll go back to pretending I don’t want you. Both of us will be busy soon enough once the season starts.”

My mouth was dry.

That would be the smart thing to do.

“Right. We both have jobs to do.” And maybe this would be the last season for me here.

Maybe the last time to see these people when I started a new life in Miami. Of course, we’d say we would keep in touch, but I knew we wouldn’t.

I knew it would be the last of my time in New York.

He nudged a chair aside and gripped one side of the table, then crowded into me and caged me in with his other hand right beside my hip. He lowered down to me until our mouths were inches apart. “I’d really like to see where this goes.” He brushed his nose along mine. “Maybe it will just be some fun on my big king-sized bed, or on your very organized bar.” He licked his lips. “Or your bed.”

My heart pounded and I wanted to deny how he affected me, but my unencumbered breasts were flashing a neon sign.

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