Page 88 of Tangled Kisses
Something he plans to bring out of me.
“I doubt that.” His voice is low, reverent, certain.
“All right then, my handsome sensei. Tell me what you think you know about me.”
The intensity of his gaze is unbearable. Heat floods my cheeks, and I spin toward the bar, desperate for the cool glass in my hand, desperate for any escape.
But Griffin follows, pressing flush against my back, his heat wrapping around me. One broad hand curves around my throat, tilting my chin until I’m forced to meet his gaze in the mirror. His breath scorches my skin as his mouth grazes the curve of my neck.
“Besides how amazing you taste?” His lips brush my pulse, sending a shiver racing down my spine.
“Behave,” I whisper, though it comes out more like a plea.
“I’ve been behaving since day one,” he growls, the rumble vibrating through me. “Truth? I’d far rather drop to my knees and see if you taste this sweet everywhere.”
My laugh is shaky, giving me away as completely as my body does. “Hopeless flirt. What would you do if I actually took you up on that?”
In a blink, his hand is under my dress, sliding up my thigh until his fingers toy with the edge of my g-string. His other hand tightens at my throat, forcing me to keep his gaze in the mirror.
His eyes are wildfire, his voice pure sin. “Exactly what I said. I’d drop right here in the middle of this bar and lick you untilyou screamed my name. I don’t give a damn who’s watching, Reese. You give me the word, and I’ll worship you until you can’t fucking stand.”
My breath falters, every nerve sparking. His fingers press just close enough to make me dizzy, to remind me he could break every wall I’ve built with a single push.
No man has ever wanted me like this. Not Vander with his cold detachment, not any of the others who treated me like I was asking too much.
But Griffin? He’s primal hunger wrapped in devotion.
And God help me, I’ve never felt so alive.
The crash of amps slamming against the stage jolts me, followed by a sharp jab to Griffin’s back. “Yo, man. We’re up.”
One of his bandmates hustles past us, clearly oblivious to the fact that Griffin has me pinned against the bar like his next breath depends on it.
Griffin doesn’t move right away, his nose brushing mine, his breath ragged against my lips as if he’s deciding whether to finish what he started or walk onstage.
“You better go. They’re waiting.” A nervous laugh slips out as I run my finger along his lower lip. “But first, let me clean you up. You’re wearing some of my lip gloss.”
His mouth curves wickedly. “I want to be wearingallof you.”
Trust me, Griffin. I want that even more than you.
I trail my fingers along his jaw, and he leans into my touch like he’s starved for it, and for one reckless second, I want to drag him back down to me.
“I never asked. Do you hate the beard?” He grins, but a hint of uncertainty lines his question.
I shake my head, pulse hammering. “No. I’m kind of interested to see how it’s going to feel in other places.”
Griffin lets out a strangled growl and smacks the bar with the flat of his hand. “Screw it. They can find another lead singer tonight.”
I laugh, the tension splintering just enough for air to return to my lungs. “Well, you said you maybe had another song for me.”
“Yeah,” he admits, eyes locking on mine. “But you’ve got to promise me something first.”
“What?”
His hand grips my chin, gentle but unyielding. “You don’t dance with anyone but me. I want all those moments from here on in, okay?”
Emotion catches in my throat, but I rise on tiptoe and brush my mouth over his. “Since you’remyman,” I echo softly, “I think I can make that work.”
