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She puts our plates in the dishwasher. “Hard pass.”
“Woman, you forget that I am a fucking rock star. People don’t tell me no. They say, ‘Yes, Mr. Grimm,’ and then do what I fucking ask.”
She hands me a towel. “That’s because they don’t know you like I do.”
I crowd her against the kitchen counter. “That’s right. They don’t. You took a bunch of pieces from me tonight, but you still don’t have the full picture. Don’t you want to get to know the restof me, dove?” I nuzzle her neck just below her ear. “Maybe I’ve got something for you nobody else has ever seen.”
Her eyes are getting glassy with desire. “According to the tabloids, lots and lots of people have seen it.”
My hand squeezes her ample hip. I like the softness of her body. I bet the kids she teaches love to hug her. “I promise you, if I make love to you, you’ll get something I’ve never given to anyone else.” I don’t tell her it’s my heart. That sounds so fucking cheesy. But I haven’t made love in too many years to remember. Not the kind of sex involving more than my dick. I fuck because it feels good and it’s expected because I front a rock band.
What I want to do to this woman is so much more than that.
She’s trembling in my arms now, and I can tell she wants to say yes. But her mouth won’t let the word escape.
“Take me to your bedroom. The one you grew up in. I just want to see it.”
“Right.”
“No really.”
Mallory shrugs. “Fine.”
She leads me up the stairs and into a girly room with a double bed done up in pink and white and more pillows than a Bed, Bath, & Beyond aisle. She’s got some awards and certificates on the wall, some trophies on the shelf from what looks like math team or something, and holy shit...there it is. On her ceiling no less.
I laugh. Pretty sure I might not ever fucking stop.
“Oh my God. I forgot that was there!” she cries, mortified as a giant poster of yours truly glowers at the both of us from on high.
“You’ve been fantasizing about me for a long time, haven’t you, Sunday School? Did you touch yourself while looking at that poster? Come with my name on your lips?”
She whimpers and hides her face in her hands.
“There’s no need to be ashamed, Mallory. Your fantasies are about to come true.”
That causes her to peek out of her fingers. “You can be a real ass, Griffin. And stop calling me Sunday School.”
“I can also be the best thing that ever happened to you.” I sit her down on the bed and pat the seat next to me. She sits and I draw her to me. “Say you’re going to let me be the best thing that ever happened to you.”
“For tonight only you mean.”
“Yeah,” I answer honestly.
She looks like she’s thinking it over, her serious face so different from the highly made-up women I’m used to. Hell, I’m wearing more makeup than Mallory.
“Why do you want this, Griff? Why is it so important to you that we have sex?”
“Why is it so important to you that we don’t?”
The back and forth between us is intense, like an electric current running between us. She takes a deep breath before finally giving me her answer.
“Because I don’t want to be just another notch on your bedpost. I want to mean more to you than that.”
I don’t know how to tell her that she’s already gotten to me more than anyone else. That I started this night thinking I was the shit and now I realize I’m nowhere near good enough for someone real like her. That I don’t want to fuck her just to get my dick wet. I’m afraid if I don’t make this connection to her, I might just float through the rest of my life never really feeling anything again.
I cover her mouth with mine, soft and gentle at first, then deepening with every stroke.
Kissing Mallory is an experience unmatched.
