Page 85 of A Little Secret
Peeking into the showers, I find a very bare backside topped by a very muscular back. Seriously. How can one man be so damn good-looking? It’s like not only did God smile upon this boy, but so did all of his angels.
Turning around, Griffin faces me in all his naked glory.
My teeth dig into my bottom lip as I shamelessly check him out. “Well, damn. Is it my birthday, or did I win the lottery and no one told me?”
He drops his gaze and reaches for a towel on the hook beside him, drying off his body, then rubbing the damp, white towel against his light brown hair without even bothering to cover his half-raised cock.
“Pretty sure you aren’t supposed to be in here,” he mutters.
“Pretty sure you shouldn’t be complaining.”
He knots the towel around his waist and cocks his head. “Oh, I shouldn’t?”
“Not when this place is empty, and my goal is to bring a smile to your grouchy face.” I step closer, lift my hand, and cup his jaw. Urging him to look at me, I add, “I heard about the Tornadoes’ GM attending today’s game. I’m sorry if you didn’t play the way you wanted to.”
“I don’t care about the game,” he mutters.
“You don’t?”
He shakes his head. “Or the GM.”
“Well, color me surprised.” I lower my hand and pat hischest. “Consider this a celebratory blow job for today’s win, then. Although if you’re feeling generous, I’d love to kneel on the towel—” I reach for the knot above the outline of his erection, but he grabs my wrist and stops me.
“I don’t want your mouth, Finley.”
My brows pinch. “What?”
“I said I don’t want your mouth.”
I peek up at him, not bothering to hide my confusion. “I’m sorry, but I’m pretty sure I need my hearing checked because no guy in the history of guys has ever turned down a mouth. Just sayin’.”
“This isn’t a joke, Finley.”
The pain in his eyes makes me pause. The hurt. The distance.
What the hell?
My mind whirs, and I try to piece together what he isn’t saying.
My tongue darts out between my lips. “Did I…” I lean back. “Did I do something wrong?”
“Why didn’t you tell Dreggs no?” he demands.
Dreggs? This is about Dreggs?
A breath of laughter escapes me. I start to pull my wrist away from him, but Griff doesn’t let me go.
“Something funny?” he growls.
“Are you serious right now?” I challenge. “You’re mad because I didn't flat-out refuse Dreggs when he asked me out? That’s why you’re acting like this?”
“I want to know why.”
“Because you and I agreed to keep this thing a secret, remember?”
“Add it to the list, right?” he offers dryly.
“Okay, pause. Are we discussing the whole…” My mouth snaps shut, and I point to my stomach. “Or are we discussing this?” I wiggle my finger between us. “Because those are two very different things, and only one of them technically involves you, so I suggest you choose your next words wisely.”