Page 31 of Doctor Bossy

“That’s better,” Griffin murmured in a voice that melted something inside me. “Now, just tell me why.”

My brain wasn’t working, so I muttered, “Why what?”

He leaned back, and when I did too, I noticed he was staring down at me with dark heat in his eyes. My stomach clenched. There was no way it could be what I thought it was.

“Why would you make a mistake like that?” he asked. “You don’t strike me as the careless type, and all your experience in labs leads me to believe that you know better than to mix up two samples. So either you were willfully trying to sabotage my project, or there was something else at play.”

I didn’t know what it was. Perhaps it was the way his eyes made me feel all soft and trembly inside, combined with the guilt and total confusion about what was happening, but it all discombobulated me enough to admit, “It’s my mother.”

There was a question in the silence before Griffin said, “Your mother?”

Shit.

I hadn’t meant to say that, nor get into my family drama, but somehow, the whole story started bubbling out.

“Yes, my mother,” I said. “That’s who she is. You have no idea how many times I wished she wasn’t, but even genetic testing showed that we are hundred percent related. She’s…” I tried to find the right words to explain to him. “She’s not stable. I met her a few days ago, and she gave me some very bad news. It’s been on my mind ever since, and I guess it distracted me enough to do what I did. Also, I know it’s still not an excuse because I knew better.” I realized I was just babbling at this point, but I couldn’t stop. I needed to get it out. “I knew better than to even see her at all, especially since I knew she would pull some bullshit like this with her gambling. But I saw her again, and now I ruined everything because I’m a stupid, gullible child who keeps hoping that someday, she’ll change, even though she has proven to me time and again that she is not willing to do such a thing, and how I’ve stupidly—”

“Stop,” Griffin cut me off, giving me a chance to catch my breath. “Stop calling yourself stupid.” His voice was still angry, but I didn’t think it was directed at me this time.“Don’t ever say that about yourself again.” His voice was quieter this time but no less intensely menacing.

When I looked into his eyes, he seemed to be fighting some sort of internal war as his eyes lowered to my lips and back to my face. It was then that I realized how close our faces were.

And how entrancing his cool snowy eyes were.

The war within them continued, but he seemed to be fighting a losing battle because he suddenly growled.

“Damn it,” he said, right before his face came down, and his lips snagged mine in a kiss.

‘Damn it’ was the right phrase to preclude this.

I had been kissed many times.

The first time was in the third grade, and it was by Chester Adams, who I was convinced had given me some sort of incurable disease. Then a jock in high school who thought he was god's gift to women and was confused as to why I reported his behavior as assault. Obviously, neither of those instances moved me. Even with James, who I’d been crazy about, I found his kisses to be nice but not mind-blowing or anything.

It caused me to conclude that either I was just not the kissing type or everything I saw in romance novels or movies were just an exaggeration.

But when Griffin kissed me…

I got it. I suddenly got it.

Because the world truly did disappear for a few seconds, and everything outside of this moment ceased to exist. All thinking faculties shut down, every sense attuned to the sensation of his lips, soft but commanding as they plucked mine gently. He didn’t kiss like a warrior, all plundering heat. Instead, he kissed with the sultry seduction of a thief who came to steal everything precious to me—my mind, my heart, my soul.

And God, I would give it to him, just for a few more moments with these feelings he inspired to continue.

I wasn’t aware of my body moving until I suddenly felt the sensation of hair under my fingers. I pulled him closer, clumsily trying to kiss him back and bring my tongue into play. Perhaps I should have been embarrassed by my lack of experience, but right now, I was too turned on to care, and urgency beat at me. I wanted more. I needed more.

But he wasn’t letting me have it just yet. He took control of the kiss once more as I moved my tongue in rhythm with his. He plied my tongue with his own before slowly dipping into my mouth, tasting me. My heart was like a freight train, and as I felt his heavy palm on my back, pulling me deeper into his body, it occurred to me:

I might not survive this.

14

GRIFFIN

Damn. Shit. Fuck.

Becca’s taste was a gradual, creeping aphrodisiac that instantly snuck past my defenses and hooked me right on the spot. I had never been addicted to anything before in my life, but I had a feeling that this was what it felt like.

At first, I thought I could simply get away with just a taste, just something to ease the interminable hunger gnawing at me day in and day out.

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