Page 85 of Find You Again (Nashville Star 2)

A head rush of love and lust hit her all at once. A desperation to make up for what she could have lost.

Alabama’s hand drifts to Griff’s chest, and she places a palm over his heart. Slowly, she moves it up his chest, over his shoulder to mold around the nape of his neck.

And then she kisses him. Kisses him like their love’s never been a thing of the past, like he is everything she needs, like that bullet never left that gun.

Griff’s kiss is gentle, light-years away from the savage kisses she’s used to. It’s the kiss she wants. Needs.

She needs Griff in absolutely the worst way, at absolutely the worst time. Except for gentle touches that tell her he’s there, he hasn’t touched her in damn near three days. Crazy is what she’s going.

With a growl, Griff breaks the kiss. Panting, he tugs her gently away from him.

She bites her lip and leans in to nip at his shoulder. “I’m lonesome, Griff.”

His eyes flash. “Sweetheart, you ain’t ready for this.” The voice that comes out of him is a rough drawl which only turns her on more.

“You’re worryin’ too much ...” A sweep of her lips against his. “And you’re not doing enough of this.”

“Damn it. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Though he’s keeping her at a distance, his body is stiff and rigid with want. It’s taking all he has to keep hands to himself. She sees it. Hell, she can feel it. He’s rock-hard, his erection jutting impatiently.

“You won’t.” She stares at him with hooded eyes. “Stayin’ away from me hurts worse.”

His expression tells her she’s killing him. Well, hell, the feeling’s mutual. Griff stands in front of her, bare-chested and muscled, looking so damn sexy, she feels like a burnin’ fuse.

With a tortured groan, he kisses her again, this time ravaging her mouth roughly. Griff’s kiss is like an echo, like a scream into her soul telling her how much he needs her.

At Alabama’s needy moan, he backs her up against the wall. His body molds to hers as he lifts her in his arms. Alabama wraps her long legs around his waist, her good arm around his neck. Griff lifts her in his arms, carefully cradling her as he slickly slides into her.

Alabama gasps softly at the sensation. She’s already wet, pulsing with heat. She tilts her hips back to accept him deeper and his own moan answers hers, guttural and primal.

Alabama closes her eyes. Tonight, there’s no pain. There’s only her and Griff.

Her protector. Her man.

And he’s wrecking her. In the best possible way.

Instead of rutting like some lovesick teenager in heat, Griff’s thrusts are slow, almost wavelike in their intensity. As Alabama’s rhythmically lifted in his powerful arms, she can’t help but let herself go limp beneath him and let him take charge. Let him show her what they have.

It’s a claiming, a connection, an understanding that they are here together, they have chosen this path again, and they will give it their best shot.

Her vision blurs with tears. She wants this. Wants him. Wants everything with him.

They pant. Long, languid breaths mingle between them. She tips her head back against the wall, her hair spilling over her shoulders as Griff kisses her throat. His lips are hot, better than a sunburn in summer, and she whimpers in pleasure.

“Griff,” she begs as she trembles in his arms. “Please ...” The slow wave building in her stomach, her toes, down below threatens to come crashing down.

She can’t hold on much longer.

“I love you.” He buries his face in her hair and whispers, “I love you so goddamn much, Alabama.”

Alabama threads her fingers through his hair and arches into him. “I love you.”

Once more, he captures her mouth and with one last thrust, they both go together. Alabama cries out in ecstasy, the feeling like peace. Like a rush of sunlight after the rain.

And then Griff’s gathering her close as Alabama collapses in his arms.

There’s nothing else to say. Tonight, in this house, she has every second chance she could ever want in this crazy life of hers. She only hopes Griff feels the same.

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