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“What my wife wants,” he says. And damn it if that doesn’t make the ache between my thighs worse.
While Ernesto retrieves the black silk tie, Griffin continues to stand there assaulting my eyes with his potent combination of sex appeal and compliance. Now’s a good time to catch up on emails. But I don’t get far when Griffin drops down beside me on the leather couch.
“How was your morning?” he asks, one arm stretching out along the back rest.
I look up to find him staring at me with apt attention. Like he asked the question and is sincerely interested in the answer.
I set my phone down.
“Busy. I had two fittings and three consultations. Chloe, my cousin Barrett’s fiancée, came in for her final dress fitting. That’s the wedding we’ll be attending in a few weeks.” He nods. “You’ll meet Chloe and Barrett before then. There’s a party on Saturday night we need to attend.”
I don’t bother to mention that Chloe wants us to have dinner with her and Barrett. Our fledgling relationship isn’t yet ready for an intimate setting like that.
Ernesto arrives with the various style options of black ties. Four-in-Hand, Skinny, or Seven-Fold. I make my selection, the classic Four-in-Hand, and signal Griffin to stand so I can tie it.
“I know how to tie a tie,” he says.
“Good,” I say, looping the tie around his neck. “So do I.”
His lips twitch, but he makes no move to take over.
“Consultations?” Griffin asks as I begin my work. “Those are with women interested in you designing their dress?”
“Yes. It’s my favorite part. The beginning, where I’m getting to know a bride, understanding her personality while also taking into account her style preferences and body type. Things like wedding location and time of year. It’s like gathering all the ingredients for a recipe, but you don’t know what you’re making yet. Finding out how it’s all going to come together is the most fun. And with the designing process, sometimes it takes more than one attempt.” I feed the tie end through the front loop, then slide the knot up and adjust it.
“Sounds like you love what you do.”
“I do.”
My fingers run down the length of Griffin’s tie. The feel of the smooth silk beneath my fingers, and the contrast of his hard, muscled body beneath has my mind racing.
Going places it shouldn’t.
Now, I’m imagining his hard cock would feel the same. Smooth and silky on the outside, hard steel beneath. I imagine wrapping my fingers around it, pumping him from root to tip, then licking my way along the smooth, yet rigid shaft. Just imagining the weight of him on my tongue has a pool of saliva gathering in my mouth.
When the image of me on my knees, one of Griffin’s large hands tangled in my hair, his hips thrusting as he fucks my mouth surfaces, I nearly choke.
Jesus, Emma.What the hell?
I don’t normally go around imagining sucking guys’ dicks. Griffin’s technically my husband, but even when I’ve dated guys, I’ve never felt that strong of a desire.
When I look up, he’s watching me again. Those pools of green intent on making me squirm. God, I hope my thoughts aren’t written on my face.
I draw in a shaky breath.
“Green is the rarest eye color. It’s a genetic mutation.” I spout a random fact I found on Google this afternoon when I was between clients. It was purely research about my new husband, completely necessary, and had nothing to do with the fact that over the few days since I’ve known Griffin, his striking green eyes are constantly at the forefront of my mind.
“With my brown eyes and your green eyes, our children would have a fifty percent chance of having brown eyes, but only thirty-seven-point five percent of having green.” When I realize how ridiculous I sound telling him stats on eye color of the children we don’t plan to have together, I add, “Hypothetically speaking.”
“Good to know.” It’s that small smile he gives me when he wants to be reassuring, but not overly so. The same one he gave me in Vegas when I was panicking about our marriage.
He adjusts the neck of his tie and turns to look in the mirror.
“Do I look like I could be your husband?”
I stand beside him, taking in the full effect. It’s too good.
“You look like you belong in a Dolce & Gabbana cologne commercial with a black and white filter and smooth jazz playing the background.”
