Page 52 of Narrow Margins
“Fuck!” My eyes flit around the rest of the lot, scouting for anyone else: the paps rarely work alone. “Fucking photographer, someone just snapped us kissing!” I drag my hands through my hair and turn back to Corrigan. “Why can’t they mind their own damn business? Come on, baby, let’s get out of here, before any more turn up.”
We climb into my car and I start the engine, revving it loudly before pulling away. I continue my exploration as we drive out and head onto the busy highway.
“Griff, it’s bound to happen. Why does it bother you so much? You’ve had your whole career shown through pictures. Is it because of me? Am I the reason you don’t want to be in the public eye?” Corrie’s voice sounds strained, the heat and passion vanished.
“Of course, it’s because of you. I don’t want us splashed all over the trashy mags and papers.” I hear his sharp intake of breath and a gasp. “You’re too important to me, Corr; I don’t want this turned into something it isn’t. I don’t want anyone else’s opinions on us. What we have is too important to me to have it dragged through the mud, sullied by some bigot’s vicious thoughts and backward beliefs. I love you, Corrigan, don’t ever doubt that.”
I see him relax into the leather sports seat and his lazy, half grin appears, “Yeah, I still want you bent over the hood of this gorgeous car.”
I put my foot down and weave in and out of traffic with Corrie whispering all the things he’s going to do to me when we get home. My dick is so damn hard by the time I pull into the garage, I shove the car into park and unsnap the button on my jeans before yanking the zipper down and dragging it out of my jock strap. I gasp, the alleviation instantaneous as I free myself.
“In need of some relief there, sugar?” Corrie chuckles.
“This is your fault, you fucker. So, get your mouth around me and make me come.” I push my seat back as far as it can then recline the back rest.
As the hot, wet heat of Corrie’s mouth surrounds my dick, my hips punch upwards of their own volition. “Fuck yeah, baby.”
It doesn’t take Corrie’s skilled mouth long to bring me to climax, pouring down his throat. My arched back relaxes into the seat as he leans over and kisses me, his mouth tasting of me as his tongue slides leisurely over mine.
I pace back from the oven and take out the lasagna I made for our dinner. Griff has been searching the web for today’s unwanted photographs, but my head is still in the garage as I relive plowing in and out of his ass as he was spread over the hood of his car. Shit, I’ve got him so bad. I grin and shake my head ruefully.
“You still thinking about it, baby?” Griff snorts when he peeks up from behind the computer screen on the table. I see him squirm as he adjusts his ass on the wooden chair.
“Maybe,” I shoot him a wink, “how’s your ass feeling?”
“It’s feeling well used, baby, but that’s no surprise: you’re fucking well hung.” He sniggers back at me.
Dumping the plates and cutlery on the table, I drop a kiss on the top of his head. “I’ll kiss it better for you later.”
Before he can answer, my cellphone rings, Griff picks it up and hands it to me. Glancing down, I see Bill Simmons Racing as the incoming call.
“Corrie Deschamps.” I answer.
“Sorry to be calling so late, this is Niamh Cullens from Bill Simmons Racing. Mr. Simmons has asked me to confirm a meeting date for Griff and yourself to come along and spend some time with the team and to have a look at the setup we have here. Are you able to come along on Friday evening for dinner and then spend the weekend with us? All expenses paid, of course”
“I think that will be agreeable to us, thank you.” I grin at Griff and nod my head, he smiles goofily back.
“Excellent, I will email all the details and booking confirmations to you first thing tomorrow morning.”
We say our goodbyes and end the call. A huge smile pulls my lips up as my man squirms on the chair. “They want us there on Friday evening, and for the whole weekend. Looks like they want you, sweetheart.”
Griff bounds over and picks me up, which is no mean feat, and swings me around.
“Hell fucking yeah!” He shouts out laughing before letting me down and clasping my head in his hands, “You are a fucking star, Corrigan Deschamps, a fucking star.”
I grin and then kiss him quickly. “Let’s eat, I think we’re gonna need all the energy we can for tonight.” I wink.
“You want me again?” Griff smiles and waggles his eyebrows.
“No, I thought, maybe, you’d want me.” I speak quietly but I mean it, I’m ready for him.
I watch as Griff’s eyes darken and he swallows audibly. “Really? You trust me that much?”
“I do, and I love you that much, too.” I stare at him as he studies me, “So, eat up, you’re gonna burn a ton of calories, sugar.” I smirk as he tucks into the lasagna.
“You sure about this, baby?” Griff strokes his knuckles softly down the side of my face, “How long has it been?”
“Since I bottomed? Hell, high school I reckon, maybe once or twice in training but never really took to it, my dominant side always took the lead.” I gaze into Griff’s sapphire eyes as they lock on mine.