Page 102 of A Little Secret

I swallow her plea and reach around her, unlatching her seatbelt as the windshield wipers slash left and right. She needs a distraction. A distraction and a fucking release. The girl’s wound so tight after the appointment, she just snapped, and not in a good way. But I can fix this.

I can fix this.

Lifting her oversized sweater, my fingers fumble with the top button on her jeans. Once they’re undone, she shimmies them down her thighs while I massage the outside of her bare thighs with my left hand. I lick at her lips, forcing our mouths together and prying hers open.

Tearing away from me, she pants, “Fuck, Griff, just—” She dives in for another kiss and spreads her legs wide as I drag my knuckle along the damp underwear covering her. The girl’s soaked.

Cupping her center with my left hand, I drag the heel of my hand against her clit, then grab her cheek with my right, angling her head and thrusting my tongue into her mouth. She sucks on it, mewing quietly as I push the scrap of cloth aside and drag the tip of my finger along her entrance.

She wants it. Fuck, I know she does by the way her hips buck, but I don’t slip into her. Not yet.

“Griff,” she warns.

I dip my finger to my first knuckle, then retreat, adding pressure to her clit.

“I need this,” she begs. “I need you. Please.”

My cock aches from her words, and I shift closer to her, swallowing her pleas as I slowly dip my forefinger inside of her again, this time to the second knuckle. The girl whimpers, grabbing my wrist tucked between her thighs as she rides my hand. Hips rocking, she urges me deeper, and I add a second finger, crooking them inside of her and rubbing my thumb along her clit. If I didn’t think she needed this right now, I’d toss her into the back and eat her out like she’s my last meal.

My mouth waters from the thought alone while Fin continues sucking on my tongue as if it’s my cock. I’ve never seen her like this. This desperate. Not only for me but also for a release. For a moment of respite. A moment of quiet.

Pressing my forehead to hers, I watch her lips swallow my fingers. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” I rasp. “How fucking perfect?” I tear my focus from her bare pussy to her face. “You’re perfect, Fin.”

“Just keep…keep doing that,” she begs, leaning in for another kiss.

I suck on her bottom lip as I crook my finger inside of her, searching for the little bundle of nerves inside herchannel I know drives her wild. When I find it, her hips buck even more, and her jaw drops open on a moan.

“Fuck, Griff. Fuck, you have no idea how good this feels.”

“You can do no wrong,” I murmur, convinced I might actually come in my fucking jeans as I swirl my fingers inside of her, adding more pressure to her clit. “This body can do no wrong, Finley Taylor. And I know you can’t control everything. Neither of us can. But look what your body can do. Look how pretty it is when it swallows my fingers.”

Her core clenches around me, her fingernails digging tiny crescent shapes into my wrist as she throws her head back. She’s gonna come. Her cheeks are flushed. Her lips are parted. Fuck, what I wouldn’t give to shove my cock between those pretty lips and watch her suck me dry. What I wouldn’t give to push inside of her right now, see her take every inch. My breathing turns ragged, matching hers as she writhes in the passenger seat, her thighs quivering.

“There is not a single thing wrong with this body, Finley. It’s perfect. And so are you. Trust it. Trust yourself. Trust me. We’re gonna get through this.”

I keep the same pace, pushing in and out, drawing tiny circles, spreading her juices from her center to her clit before pressing back into her and crooking my finger.

Her body tenses, her core squeezing my two fingers as she falls apart, moaning my name, and fuck if it isn’t the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

Slowly, I pull out of her and suck on my fingers, closing my eyes as I savor the taste of her.

“I’d do anything for you,” I murmur.

And fuck if I don’t mean it.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

GRIFFIN

Tugging at the tie around my throat, I stare at the tall black door in front of me. I’ve debated this since Finley’s doctor’s appointment, and if I’m being honest, long before then. But I never thought I’d go through with it. Never thought I’d have the guts or the justification. And maybe I still don’t have them, but now that it’s here. Now that I’ve called and set up the meeting, I feel like I’m standing on the edge of a knife, and one wrong move could ruin everything. Everything I’ve worked for. Everything I’ve wanted for as long as I can remember.

Maybe I already have ruined it.

My knees bounce as I rest my elbows on them, staring at the marble tile beneath my Oxfords.

I still remember when I got the call. It was years ago, but right now, it feels like it was yesterday. The Tornadoes wanted to sign me. Ev already knew he was going to play for the Rockets. He’d looked over contracts a few weeks prior. Same with Mav and the Lions. But me? My agent was ironing out the details, determined to get me the best contract possible because he thought I was worth it andwas convinced the Tornadoes thought so, too. Little did they know, I would’ve signed anything as long as it guaranteed I could be on the ice and follow in my dad’s footsteps without looking like I was riding his coattails.