Page 51 of Tangled Kisses
And then he kisses me—soft at first, like he’s testing the shape of my mouth, the taste of my breath. His lips move slowly, coaxing, almost gentle… until they’re not. The pressure builds, his mouth claiming mine with a hunger that makes my knees weaken.
A low groan rumbles from his chest, vibrating against me as his hand fists in my hair, tilting my head so he can go deeper. His tongue sweeps across mine—hot, wet, and demanding—sending a rush of sparks straight to my core. I taste beer on his lips, but underneath it, there’s only him—and he tastes far better than even my dreams imagined.
His other arm bands around my waist, hauling me tight against him, the hard lines of his body pressing into every soft inch of mine. My fingers clutch his shirt, desperate for an anchor because I’m not sure my legs are doing their job anymore. God, he’s hard everywhere—chest, arms, thighs pressing into mine—and it sends a sharp, needy ache between my legs.
The scent of his cologne—warm spice and salt from his skin—wraps around me, filling my head until the bar, the music, every other sound is gone. All I hear is his ragged breath, syncing with mine.
He kisses me like he’s determined to erase every man who came before him. Like I’m his to possess. And God help me, I want him to.
I whimper into his mouth, and he answers with a rough sound of his own, his hands sliding down to clamp around my hips—firm, claiming—like he’s deciding exactly where I belong.
His grip tightens, grinding me closer until my breasts mash into his chest, the thin fabric of my dress straining between us. A button pops, maybe two, and I don’t care. I’d strip the whole damn dress off if it meant getting closer.
My fingers tangle in his hair, yanking him down to me as his mouth takes and takes, his tongue sliding against mine—hot andelectric. One of his hands dips lower, cupping my ass and pulling me flush against his solid length.
There’s no air, nothing but Griffin—relentless and feral.
And nothing has ever felt better.
“Reese, are you back here?”
The voice barely registers at first—just a faint, unwelcome buzz outside the cocoon of heat and breath and Griffin’s mouth on mine—until it grows louder.
“Reese, where are you?” My sister steps onto the back deck, and Griffin eases back just enough to duck his head, his stubble scraping lightly against my skin as he nuzzles into the curve of my neck.
“Whoa,” she says, eyes darting between us. “Sorry. What did I interrupt?”
“What does it look like?” Griffin murmurs, his teeth grazing my throat as his hand tightens possessively at my hip.
Of course he’s unbothered by my sister’s discovery.
Come to think of it, I don’t give a damn either.
Piper crosses her arms over her chest, amusement dancing on her face. No way is she letting this one go. “I thought you’d drowned in the toilet, Reese.”
I chuckle. “We were dancing.”
My sister smirks. “Right. Because that’s what dancing looks like.”
My cheeks flush, and I nudge Griffin’s head up. “Tell her we weren’t doing anything.”
Griffin tips his cowboy hat at my sister. “Couldn’t let Jimmy stake a claim. She owed me a dance.”
“Among other things. Well, my sister owes me some food, and unless she wants me to gnaw off the damn table leg, it’s time to go. Care to join us, Griffin?”
Griffin shakes his head. “I have to speak to Jimmy about playing next week. But thank you for the offer.”
I hold up a hand toward my sister, buying a few precious moments. Then I press a kiss to Griffin’s cheek. “Thank you for playing my songs.”
“Thanks for dancing to them with another guy.” Griffin shoots me a mock glare.
“You were busy.”
“I didn’t like it. I wanted you in my arms.”
God help my heart.
“Can I make a confession? I only wanted to dance with you.”
