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I looked back.
He couldn’t be comfortable lying half on the bed. He would have one heck of a sore body tomorrow if I left him like this.
With a sigh, I trudged over to the bed. Taking off his boot was a major feat in itself. I tugged on it, and when it finally came off, I tumbled to the floor with the boot in hand.
He had nicer feet than I would have guessed.
I shook my head and got up off the floor. Now the hard part. I gritted my teeth and focused on the task at hand to avoid checking him out as I pulled off his jeans.
He was a huge man, and I’d overestimated my abilities, but with prodding, pushing, and some unconscious help from him, I got them off. I stared at the pair of jeans in my hands, and a nervous giggle escaped me. If I pulled the pants up by the feet to my head, I’d still come up short. I folded them neatly, then returned to him.
The shirt was even trickier. I could have left him in it, but blood, beer, and god knew what else stained the fabric. When I tried to get his arms through the holes, he muttered.
Frustrated, I straddled his waist for better leverage and pulled the shirt over his head. Snickerdoodle, I should work out more. I rocked back to rest and landed on his groin. His cock wasn’t hard, but his bulge poked against my bottom. The thin material of my pajamas didn’t provide much of a barrier.
My ass clenched, and I sucked in a deep breath. The urge to tease him until he was hard was strong. No, I couldn’t do this. He was unconscious. I pushed off his chest to get up, but hands landed on my hips. I glanced up.
Griff was staring directly into my eyes.
Oh no, no, no. He’d think I was…
“I-I-I didn’t mean to. I was—shirt—you.”
“Scottie, you’re here.” He smiled, turned onto his side, and dumped me on the bed right next to him. He pulled me back into his chest and laid a hand around my body, trapping me against him. His warm breath heated my skin. “You feel good, Scottie.”
Griff slipped a hand under my shirt and stroked my tummy. My brain short-circuited.
“Sleep.”
“But I need to go home.”
“Sleep,” he ordered again and nuzzled the back of my neck, then placed the softest kiss there. “Mine.”
The tension in my body eased at the whispered word. Mine. He was drunk. He didn’t mean it. I’d be a fool to believe anything that came out of his mouth tonight, but I couldn’t move even if the bed were on fire.
It’d been so long since someone held me like this and made me feel safe.
Just a few minutes. I’d stay a few minutes, then leave. He’ll never know.
7
GRIFF
Bright light filtered into the bedroom, and I quickly clamped my eyes shut. With a groan, I pressed my fingers to my temples and tried to massage away the headache and fog that shrouded my memories. How the hell had I gotten home? I didn’t remember riding my bike back to the apartment, but this was definitely my bed.
I breathed in slowly and released the tension in my neck and shoulders. Bits and pieces from the night before seeped into my consciousness. After leaving Scottie last night, I’d gone to a bar. Never mind that I shouldn’t be drinking, but I was sure I’d ordered beer. Not just one either.
Fuck, maybe I could dodge my parole officer for the next few days until the alcohol was completely out of my system. Never could predict when they were going to spring an alcohol and drug test on me, and I couldn’t afford to fail. Not that anyone would care if my ass landed back in prison.
My son sure as hell didn’t give a damn.
His words had pierced my heart, and I rubbed my chest. I should have left the minute Jay and Scott entered the living room, but something had held me in the kitchen, and I’d eavesdropped on their conversation. From the anger and hatred in Jay’s tone, he wasn’t looking to forgive me anytime soon. Maybe never. I had to learn to accept that.
I couldn’t blame him. Nothing he’d said to Scottie had been a lie. I hadn’t been thinking when that man had died. I’d let my anger get the best of me.
The bitterness and anger in Jay’s voice reminded me of myself growing up. I’d tried so hard to be a good dad, but I hadn’t been ready to be a father at nineteen. Only too late had I learned what was important and what wasn’t. How could I have been a good dad to someone when I didn’t even understand my role as a man?
I closed my eyes and sighed. Instead of Jay, Scottie’s terrified face filled my mind. He’d looked so devastated after Jay left. What had Jay said to him? That he’d never hurt Scottie? Why would he say that? What exactly was between those two?
