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When his lips touch mine, something happens. Every bit of tension I was feeling is suddenly gone. Raising my arms, I wrap them around Garrett’s broad shoulders and pull myself closer—as close as I can get. His strong arms wrap around me, pulling me to him until we’re pressed together. My entire body is touching his. I open my mouth at the urging of his tongue. When ours touch, Garrett groans into my mouth and I’m instantly wet.
I feel myself lifted until my bottom is on his counter. Opening my legs, Garrett steps between them. His mouth moves from my lips and travels down my neck. He’s whispering, “What’s happening? I’ve never felt like this before. Like if I don’t have you, I’ll die.”
Does he mean if he doesn’t have sex with me, he’ll die, or if he can’t have me forever, he’ll die? When he sucks and nibbles on my earlobe, I decide I don’t care one way or another. “Garrett—” I bite his neck. “I want you too.”
“Thank God.” Garrett’s hands slip beneath my Notre Dame sweatshirt, pulling it up as he goes. I lift my arms as my top brushes past my face and then off. “Beautiful.” He says it with awe in his voice.
The kissing has stopped. It’s been replaced with hands touching me reverently. “The prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.” I’m not sure he’s talking to me, per se. More like he’s just talking aloud.
Not wanting to be the only one topless, I slip my fingers beneath his soft gray sweater. He takes over by quickly removing it. His chest is just as rugged as the rest of him. He’s got hair between his pectorals. Not a lot, just enough. I run my fingers over his chest and each of his nipples. A shiver runs through him.
“You’re very handsome yourself.”
“Thanks.”
I’m not sure what to do next, so I do the only thing I know. I wrap my hands around his neck and pull him closer. Kissing him softly, I hope he takes this as a cue to keep going. When he cups my breasts with his big hands, I lean back, placing my hands on the counter. That’s when I feel wetness on my right hand. I glance over and see Blue. She’s up on her hind legs, front paws on the counter. She’s licking my hand. The sight makes me giggle immediately. “I think Blue feels left out.”
“Blue.” Garrett’s voice is deep, husky. “Down.”
She ignores him and looks up at me, her tail wagging a million miles an hour. So, I try, “Blue. Down.”
Blue immediately pulls away from the counter and sits on her bottom. Her tail is still going strong.
Grumbling something under his breath, Garrett turns and steps to a door I hadn’t seen before now. Opening it, he says, “Blue. Outside.”
Blue listens to him this time and trots to the open door. Once she’s out, he shuts the door and stomps back over to me. Not wasting any more time, he tugs my bra down enough to reveal my right nipple. His fingers skim over me, and it feels like heaven. “Garrett. Put your mouth on me.”
When did I get that outspoken? Especially with the opposite sex? Tonight? Because I barely speak to the opposite sex unless it’s work-related.
Garrett’s mouth covers my nipple, making me jump at the sensation. The cup covering my other breast is pulled down in no time. Just as he’s about to taste my left breast, the unthinkable happens.
His phone rings. It’s a distinctive ring, probably one that was set up for a particular person.
“Fuck.”
“Don’t stop, Garrett.” Please.
“That’ll be my boss.” He sighs, running his hand through his hair. It’s pretty unruly, most likely my fault since I recall having my hands in it.
“Oh.”
“I-uh, need to take it. I’m sure this is about the locket. I left him a message earlier.”
“Well, you’d better get it.” I say that as I pull my bra back into place. There’s just something awkward about the idea that I’d sit on his counter with my breasts hanging out of my bra.
Garrett holds up a finger. Hopefully, this will only take a minute. He answers gruffly, “Whelan.”
As he talks in a soft, low voice, I take a moment to look at him. He’s in profile, and I can’t help noticing his jeans. They’re very, um, tented in the front. I guess that doesn’t surprise me since I could feel his hardness between my legs. Garrett turns so his back is to me. He’s got a nice back except for the long scar that runs from his right shoulder blade down to the waist of his jeans. “What in the heck?” I slide off the counter and step closer. With my right hand, I touch the top of the scar. It’s where it’s the most raised, which means it was the deepest part of the cut, or whatever this was.
“Fine,” he sighs. “I’ll be there in ten.”
His phone gets tossed onto the counter. He turns to face me, and I smile. “It’s okay. I heard you. I’ll take an Uber home. No problem.”
“I can run you home.” He pauses. “Or you could stay and wait for me.”
That sounds like a wonderfully terrible idea. “No. I’ve got to work in the morning.”
“Shit.” He rubs his face. “I’m sorry, honey.”
