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“It’s clear you’re not waiting for marriage,” I wiggle my left hand, “so what would a lady have to do to be the lucky recipient of your pleasure sword?”
He nearly chokes. “My pleasure sword?”
This conversation is starting to go off the rails. I’d normally never be this intrusive or bold when getting to know a guy, but time is of the essence here, so I’m trying a new approach. Also, I’m beyond curious. And hearing the words ‘pleasure sword’ come out of Griffin’s mouth is a fun bonus.
I wait patiently for his laughter to subside. My eyebrows lift to indicate I’m waiting for his response.
“That’s a serious question?” he asks.
My lips press together. “You heard me.”
“Okay, let me think.”
He runs his palm along his jaw, his fingers sliding over the two-day beard there. I can hear the bristle of his hair against his hand and it has me recalling what it felt like to have his face between my thighs. The delicious scrape of that jaw against the sensitive skin of my inner thighs while his tongue licked up my center. My core clenches at the recollection.
That was only two days ago, yet it feels like a lifetime. I do my best to shake the memory and focus on what Griffin is saying.
“At this point in my life, it would have to be a woman who knocks the wind out of me. Someone I can’t imagine going a day without seeing. That makes my heart thud against my ribs and my palms sweat because I’m both nervous and excited to be in her presence.” He pauses for a moment, eyes trained on the table before he looks back up at me. “It needs to be more than just lust and attraction, a real connection.”
My lungs are suddenly devoid of air, as if I’m experiencing firsthand the magic Griffin is talking about. Meeting someone who knocks you back on your heels, makes you open your eyes and take notice.
I nod silently, then take another sip of my wine to clear the lump in my throat. To soothe the sinking feeling that I’m not that woman for him.
“I’m sure she’s out there. And once you’re freed of your fake husband duties, you’ll find her.”
He gives me a small smile.
Emotions threaten to bubble up, so I look back to my phone. “Okay. Back to the questionnaire.”
“Hold on. What about you?”
“I answered the question.” I point to the notes. “You know about Alec. And before him I was with Stephen, and a year before him, it was Will.”
“Yeah, I know all about you and the Baldwin brothers.” Griffin shifts forward. “How do you take care of yourself, Emma?”
I glance around, this conversation far more alarming in a public place now that it’s directed at me.
“Like specifically?” I whisper. “I don’t think this is going to be something Kandi will ask.”
“I shared with you.”
“You said you were well acquainted with your hand. That’s pretty vague. And for guys, pretty much a given.”
“Okay, I prefer to fist myself in the shower, easy clean up, but sometimes I’ll change it up and watch porn.”
He lifts his brows to indicate it’s my turn now.
“Fine. Yes, I have a dildo with a vibrating head. It’s multifunctional, if you know what I mean.”
“What color is it?”
“Bright pink,” I tell him, wondering if my face is starting to turn the same color.
“Where do you keep it?” he asks.
“Top drawer of my bedside table.”
Griffin is quiet for a moment, his eyes drifting from where his fingers are rotating his beer bottle to my face. I could be wrong, but I swear he’s imagining me on my bed, legs spread open, with my neon pink dildo dipping into my center. It’s suddenly unfair that he’s seen me naked, touched me, licked me. When I think about him fisting himself, I have to really use my imagination to bring the visual of his cock to life.
