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He chuckles. “I’m awake now.”
“Oops. Sorry.” I’m not sorry. I’m glad he’s here in my bed, waiting for me.
“Don’t be. I wanted to make sure you were home safe.”
“I’m home safe.” I run my hands all over him. His shirtless body is perfection.
“I see that.” His hand smooths out the hem of my dress that has inched its way up my thighs.
“Are you going to take off your dress?” he asks.
I’m feeling sassy after some drinks tonight, and I wouldn’t mind a repeat of what happened in the private dance room, minus the lap dance because I have no desire to be on my feet right now.
“Why don’t you take it off,” I say in my best phone sex operator voice, but a hiccup escapes my throat, ruining the vibe.
Griffin shifts on the bed. I’m hoping he’s still going to strip me down, hiccups be damned, but he turns on the bedside lamp then climbs out of bed and walks over to the closet.
He comes back a minute later with a t-shirt.
“What’s this?” I ask.
“A shirt to sleep in. You still have underwear on, right?”
“I don’t know.” I wiggle my brows. “Maybe you should check.”
He doesn’t check. Not the way I want him to. He pulls my dress up and over my head, then replaces it with the t-shirt. No fun.
“You want to brush your teeth?” he asks.
“Are you going to make out with me if I do?”
He shakes his head. “Not tonight.”
“Huh.” I don’t like his answer, but maybe he’s just playing hard to get. Maybe if I brush my teeth, he’ll change his mind. I want to leave my options open, that being the option that Griffin changes his mind and I have minty fresh breath for him to taste.
He lifts me up, and I cling to him like a koala as he carries me into the bathroom.
“This is nice. You’re nice.” I sigh against his neck. “I like you.”
It’s not a deep confession, but it feels like I could easily say more. ‘I like you’ is the gateway to all the things I want to tell him, but know I shouldn’t.
“I like you, too,” he says softly.
Griffin sets me on the counter, then prepares my toothbrush and hands it to me. I brush while I stare at his naked torso. He leans against the counter watching me. I watch him, ogling his crotch. I can see the outline of his cock in his boxer briefs. My mouth waters thinking about earlier when I had my lips wrapped around him. Then I realize I’m actually drooling toothpaste down the front of my—Griffin’s—shirt. Oops.
When I’m done, he carries me back to bed then tucks in behind me. His body curves to mine, his warm skin heating my back.
“Did you have fun tonight?” he asks.
“I think I had just the right amount of fun. Not marry a stranger in Vegas fun, but dance until my feet hurt kind of fun.”
He chuckles, then his voice turns husky. “You better not have hadthatkind of fun, you’re mine, remember?”
His words make my belly swoop and a warm tingly feeling take over my body.
You’re mine, remember?
How could I forget?
