Page 72 of The Curveball
“I’m done playing games, Wren,” he whispers. “I’m not faking. I never was. I don’t want this to be temporary.” He drops his forehead to mine, fingertips digging into the back of my neck. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”
A shiver flutters up my arms. Fear is heady. To step into an unknown is thrilling, and wild, and terrifying. But I can’t deny, standing here, locked in Griffin’s arms, I’ve never felt safer.
“I need you to tell me what you want,” he says. “I can’t read minds, remember? If you don’t feel the same—”
“Griffin,” I interject, breathless. He pulls his head back enough to look at me. I give him a soft grin. “Will you stop talking and kiss me already?”
He curses under his breath before yanking on the back of my head and smashing my mouth to his. It’s wild and needy, slow and tender. A spiral of opposites, and I can’t find solid ground. My body slumps into his. Griffin smiles against my lips and holds me upright.
His fingers tangle in my hair, and for a pause, he breaks the kiss. He hovers his mouth dangerously close to mine. A burn of lust, passion, and something deeper flashes in his eyes. With a tug to my hair, he slants my head where he wants it, then claims my lips again.
I let out a soft groan. His taste is addicting. The way he takes control, the way he holds nothing back, spins my head in a perfect storm.
Whatever he has to give, I want.
He’s water after a drought. A shimmer of sunlight after a terrible night. How I’ve resisted the pull toward this man for so long, I’ll never know. I run my hands over his chest, his shoulders. I dig into his hair, tugging until he lets out a low hiss of pleasure from the burn.
Griffin kisses me until my chin is raw from his stubble and my knees can barely hold my weight. When he pulls back, he keeps us close. Our noses brush. The gleam in his eyes as he studies me melts the last icicle from my chest.
“I mean it, Birdie. I’m all in, and after that kiss you better be all in too, because there is nothing better than what just happened.”
“You’re being bossy again.” I hold him around the waist. “I’m in, Griff, but I also think we’re insane.”
“I hope so, or life will be boring.”
I let my head fall to his chest. He kisses my hair and holds me closer.
“It’s too fast. Right?” I ask. “This is a little insane.”
“Woman,” he whispers against my ear. “This is not fast. Not for me. You’ve had me since the day I met you.”
“Liar.”
“Not even close, Birdie. You hooked me, and I’ve never tried to get free.”
I lift my eyes and place my palm on one side of his face. “Marks, you say the right things sometimes.”
His perfect, white smile cuts through the night, and he pulls me back in for another kiss. A claim to the beginning of something new and wonderful. Griffin takes us to the grass like he’d intended, but we’re not focused on the sky.
He kisses me, holds me, shows me everything he’s kept inside through his gentle touch.
Head spinning in beautiful chaos, I hope by the time we’re finished here I can’t remember my own name.
CHAPTER22
GRIFFIN
“You’re beautiful, you know that?”I press a kiss into the crook of Wren’s neck. She fiddles with her silky blouse again, adjusting the high neckline, and inspecting her bubblegum cutoff pants.
“Am I underdressed?”
“Not at all. But I’m sticking my hand in your back pocket, just so you know. These pants, Birdie—” I scan her from ankle to hip to prove my point. “You’ve been keeping these from me, haven’t you?”
She snickers and kisses the tip of my nose. “Yes. They have the ability to turn the nicest guys into scoundrels.”
“I like that word.” I hug her from behind and bury my face into the sweet fruity scent of her hair. “That’s the thesaurus word for the day.”
“It’s not that big of a word.”