Page 72 of Accidental Husband
I really fucking do.
Chapter Seventeen
Griffin
Itry not to gawk as Jules pulls her dress over her tits, but it's hard.
No. Hard is an understatement.
I'm pretty sure I can cut diamonds at the moment.
My best friend's cheeks flush. "Thank you." She nods a goodbye to the dancer.
The smile Barbie returns is somewhere betweenI'm madly in love with youandI'm so happy to help and I'd love to help more, in exchange for more cash.
It's her job to pretend she's interested. To convince horny men she desperately wants to feel their cocks against her ass.
Fuck.
Now that image is in my head.
Not the dancer. She's pretty, yeah, but she doesn't interest me.
Jules—
Her chest heaves with her inhale.
Her hips sway with her step.
Her lips part with a sigh.
God dammit, I want to roll that dress fabric to her waist, pull her body against mine, grind my cock against her flesh.
Which is out of the question.
I can't want Jules.
This trip is for her. So she can find someone to fuck. So she can get over her ex by getting under someone.
That someone can't be me.
It needs to be a stranger she'll forget the next morning.
It needs to be hot, sweaty, dirty sex. And nothing else.
One great lay, a night of sleep, a little sightseeing, bam—she's over that asshole Jackson.
She's mine again.
Fuck.
All right, I want to hear my name on her lips. I want to taste her cunt. I want to pin her to the bed, tear off her dress, and split her in half.
Fuck, this train of thought isn't doing shit to cool me down.
I turn away from her, but it does nothing to hide my hard-on. The entire room is mirrors.
"Griff." Her gaze stops on my crotch. "We're not supposed to hang out here unless we're getting a dance."
