Page 23 of A Little Secret
I gasp and use my opposite hand to squeeze my boob. Shit, they’re so sensitive lately.
“Your cheeks are red,” Griffin whispers. “You’re pretty when you blush.”
“Who says I’m blushing?”
He pushes himself away from the doorjamb and strides closer to my bed. Grasping the sheets, he pulls them off the bed, exposing my spread legs as I play with my center.
I want to stop. I should stop. But…
His gaze darkens, and he cocks his head. “What are you thinking about, Fin?”
My mouth curves up. “Wouldn’t you like to know. Now go away. I’m a little busy.”
“Looks that way.” The bed dips as he sits on the edge of the mattress, watching the white cotton sheets rustle near my crotch. His hand finds my knee, the heat burning the inside of my thigh as his attention slides to my face. “Need any help?”
“Maybe,” I breathe out.
“You want my mouth or my cock?”
I press my fingers harder against my clit and rock my hips.
“Mouth,” I whisper, squeezing my eyes shut as my imagination runs wild. “I want your mouth, Griff.”
His lips quirk, and he climbs onto the bed. My legs fall open even more as he reaches for my underwear and shifts it to the side, blowing on my exposed skin and dragging the tip of his tongue along my slit.
My fingers move faster as I imagine it. His eyes pinning me in place as he tastes me.
Fuck.
I push my fingers deeper inside me, crooking them and moaning quietly, grateful Griffin’s too distracted by his own entertainment for the evening to pay attention to lil’ ol’ me on the top floor.
Pumping my fingers, I rub my clit with the heel of my hand, imagining what Griff sounds like when he eats a girl out. If he’s quiet. If he likes it. If he watches or closes his eyes as he licks and sucks and?—
“Fuck, Griff,” I moan. “Fuck.”
I fall apart, unraveling against my hand as my back arches off the mattress, and my eyes fall back in my head.
When I finally come back to earth, my chest heaves, and I slowly catch my breath, savoring the tingles in my limbs and the aftershocks from my core as they spread along my body.
Seriously.
Why is masturbation so fucking good compared to most of my sexual encounters? I sigh and slip my hand from my underwear, throw off my covers, and head to the bathroom across the hall to use the restroom and wash my hands. Once I’m finished, I climb back into bed and fall asleep within minutes.
CHAPTER SEVEN
GRIFFIN
The girl has to know. She has to. There’s no other reason she’d say my name and fuck with my head like this.
Right?
Or maybe it’s why she said my name. Because she honestly believes I can’t hear her through the vents.
Then again, why would she know? I don’t bring girls home, and Everett’s been staying at the cabin instead of sharing the room with me until the girls’ side of the duplex is finished, so it’s not like I talk to anyone when I’m in my room. And yeah, I shouldn’t have jacked off last night knowing we’re the only two home, but I thought she was asleep. I thought…
Fuck, did she hear me, too?
The door swings both ways. It was late, and I was quiet, but…it’s possible. Shit, it’s possible. Reaching for a glass from the cabinet, I fill it under the sink when a familiar creak comes from the hallway.