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“My name is Grant Gipson,” he replies, ignoring me as he listens to something that Pianna says. “Our Bri talks about you quite fondly. I was wondering when she would allow us to talk.”
I gape at him when he flashes me a grin. Our Bri?
“Understood. We’ll play nice,” he promises, his tone almost serious as he listens to my best friend give him the shakedown that she gives every guy I’ve ever been with. “I completely understand. I hope we’ll get to meet sometime in the near future. We’re about to have breakfast, can Bri call you back later?” He hums thoughtfully and then chuckles. “Duly noted.”
With that he pulls the earbud out of his ear and hands it back to me.
“What the hell, Grant?”
He raises a brow. “What? I can’t talk to your friend?”
“No! Donotbring Pianna into this inanyway,” I hiss before turning around to make sure I don’t burn the pieces of toast cooking in the large pan on the stove. “She doesn’t deserve to be yanked into this madness. She’s gone through enough.”
Grant comes up right behind me, his hands landing on my hips.
“Your friend is safe from our scheming, I promise,” he says seriously. The stiffness in my shoulders ebbs away and I let out a heavy sigh of relief. His mouth is suddenly on my neck as I flip the pieces of toast over. “I like you like this.”
“Like what?”
“Like a protective momma bear,” he murmurs into my ear, his breath hitting the shell. I shiver.
“She’s my everything.”
“You’d do anything for her?” he asks curiously.
I nod. “And she’d do anything for me.”
Grant says nothing to this, but he doesn’t step away or let go of me. His hands slide under the hem of my shirt and his palms slide over my soft stomach, up to my breasts. A hard shiver rocks through me. With Grant pressed against my back, he couldn’t have failed to notice it.
His lips find my neck again. The kisses he plants are gentle. His fingers tease my tightened buds, and slowly, I start to lean back into him. I try not to think too hard about how good it feels to be in his arms, or that his touch is turning me on. I won’t overthink this. This is what they want from me. Sex. Nothing more. I can do this, and I’ll enjoy what I can get from it too because, well, why not?
I plate the perfectly cooked French toast and put more into the pan. One of Grant’s hands slides back down my body, faintly skimming over the pooch of my stomach before sliding under the hem of my panties. With a loud gulp, I part my legs and allow him to slide his fingers through my folds.
“So wet, dollface,” he murmurs into my ear before planting a kiss just below it.
His long fingers slide through the slick arousal that’s gathered there, and he uses it to coat my clit. I suck in a sharp breath. Two fingers begin circling my clit, in no hurry to bring me to a release anytime soon. It’s hard to cook this way, with lips on my neck, a hand fondling my breast and one between my legs, but I certainly don’t mind it.
My hand shakes as the pleasure mounts lazily through my body. The piece of French toast on my spatula shakes with my hand, but it makes it to the plate before I quickly reach forward and turn off the stove.
“I-I need to make eggs and sausage,” I whisper breathlessly.
Grant hums again. “No, this will be good for us, dollface.”
Suddenly, his hands and mouth disappear. I bite back a whine as he takes a step back, away from me. I turn with the plated food to watch him reach up and grab a stack of plates and syrup from the cabinets. We both walk over to the table and place our items down. My heart is fluttering anxiously as my body aches for release.
“Coffee?” he asks me as if he doesn’t know how needy I feel.
I shake my head as I grab utensils from the drawer. When I turn around, Grant is already seated at the head of the table, his chair pushed out abnormally far from it. He watches me as I walk over and place the forks and knives on the table.
“On your knees, dollface,” he orders as I reach for a chair.
My stomach sinks. Oh, we’re back to this are we? The disappointment must be on my face because Grant smirks.
“Behave and I’ll give you what you want.”
As I sink to my knees, disappointment cools the heat in my veins. Grant points to under the table in front of him.
“You can hang out here.”
