Page 70 of Tangled Kisses
The coil of doubt winds tighter, choking off the rush of arousal. My thighs tense, my shoulders hitch, and before I can stop myself, I shift just enough to break his touch.
His hand freezes, his gaze narrows, all that lazy confidence sharpens into focus. “What’s wrong?”
Of course he notices. He’s Griffin Topete—the man women write sonnets about. And me? I’m the girl who can’t come without batteries.
Way to ruin the moment, Reese. As usual.
“Nothing,” I say too quickly.
Griffin eases back, both hands lifted in mock surrender, though his gaze is sharp with concern. “Did I push it too far?”
I shake my head, my thumb tracing idle circles against my palm. If I look busy enough, maybe I don’t have to answer. Maybe we can move on to innocuous subjects like disease or plagues or something. “No, I just…”
“Talk to me, belleza. Did I do something?”
A humorless laugh slips out unbidden. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” I toy with the rim of my glass, unable to meet his eyes. “I just don’t think I’d live up to the hype.”
Understatement of the year.
“You think I’d be anything less than obsessed?”
“Let’s just say, I’ve had enough bad experiences that I don’t bother anymore.” Years of settling for the bare minimum, of men who took their pleasure and left me pretending I had mine. After a while, you stop asking. You stop expecting. My tone is light, but inside, it feels like pulling the pin on a grenade.
Toss it out there, Reese. Blow up the moment before he can see what’s broken in you.
Good old preemptive strike. Or I can change the subject, which ismucheasier.
“Do you want to get some food?”
“No, I want to know the meaning behind your statement.”
I swirl the whiskey in my glass, keeping my attention on the amber liquid. “It’s nothing. Just hasn’t always been the best time, you know?”
“Hasn’t always been the best time,” he echoes, leaning in, his voice dropping to a dark, velvety purr. “Well, that changesnow. Because I want you coming apart because of me. I want every sound you make to have my name behind it. I want youtrembling so hard you can’t think straight, knowing I’m the only one who can get you there.”
God, he sounds so certain. So sure. And all I can think is—don’t let him see the panic, don’t let him know you’re the woman who can’t get the basics right.
“If only it were that easy.” I mumble the words as years of mediocre moments flood my brain.
“What was that?”
Heat rushes up my neck, pooling in my cheeks. “Don’t worry about it, okay? I know this is what you do, Griffin—making women feel good, making them feel special.”
“Did,” he corrects, his voice low and sure. “That’s what I did. Now, the only woman I care about making feel special is you.”
“Right.” I force a small smile. “But I don’t need to be your pet project. Some things just aren’t meant to be. And hey, my vibrator gets me off just fine. It’s okay.”
At least it never cheats, never makes me feel like I’m not enough. Not like Vander.
And let’s be honest. I caught Vander, but I’m sure some of my other boyfriends stepped out, too.
For some people, that’s just the way it is. Maybe it’s my curse.
I tip my head toward the bar. “Enough of this discussion. Let’s go get a cheeseburger.”
Before I can move, his arm snakes around my waist, pulling me flush against him. His voice is rough in my ear. “That’s not good enough for me.”
“I don’t want to rehash two decades of sucky sex, okay? I’m sorry I brought it up at all. Let’s just forget it.”
