Drive Me Wild Read online

  She stared at me across the room. “Wow, Griffin. That’s really bleak.”

  “No, it isn’t,” I said defensively. “It’s practical. And it’s freeing. When you realize that you don’t need anyone else to be happy, you stop feeling like you’re missing something. You stop looking for it. You realize you’re fine with what you have.”

  “But how do you keep yourself so unattached?”

  “That’s what the rules are for.”

  “I take it you’re not a relationship person.”

  “Nope.”

  “But don’t you get lonely, relying only on yourself for everything?”

  “Being alone is not the same as being lonely,” I told her. “I promise you, I’m fine. But if you keep talking like this, I’m going to start calling you Darlene.”

  She laughed and put up her hands. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop.”

  “Good.” I moved toward the back hallway, anxious for the conversation to be over. I was talking way too much. “I’ll get a sheet and make up the couch for you.”

  “Thanks. Hey, do you think I might be able to take a quick shower?”

  “Sure.” I kept moving, ignoring the blood rushing to my crotch. She was going to get naked in my bathroom. She was going to take off every stitch of clothing, get in my shower, and put her hands all over her body. Right where I stood naked earlier and would stand naked tomorrow, jerking off at the thought of it. “I’ll leave a couple towels on the bed for you,” I said, my voice cracking, my dick getting hard.

  “Thank you.”

  With my breath coming hard, I pulled my two nicest bath towels, the white ones Cheyenne had gotten me for Christmas that had no frayed edges, down from a shelf. I’d never even used them because pure white towels scared me—I’d ruin them in one shower after a day on the job. Running my hand slowly over the top, I couldn’t help thinking that this material was going to be all over her bare skin. Up and down her legs, all over her back and thighs, back and forth across her stomach and ass and breasts. Then she was going to come out of the bedroom all showered and clean and smelling delicious, probably wearing those tiny little shorts and that T-shirt that showed her nipples poking through.

  It was going to take the strength of twenty men to keep my hands off her.

  I didn’t have it in me.

  Eight

  Blair

  Not gonna lie, I got a kick out of taking off all my clothes in Griffin’s bedroom. I even stood there naked for a minute—the door closed tight, of course—daring him to walk in on me.

  He didn’t.

  Grabbing the towels off the bed, I hurried into the bathroom. “Que diable, Bisou,” I whispered to the kitten, who was still hiding in her crate. “Why am I acting so crazy?”

  The shower felt incredible—I washed my hair, shaved my legs, soaped up and rinsed off two days’ worth of road trip grime and sticky summer sweat. I used my own vanilla bean body wash, but I admit I picked up Griffin’s bar of Lava soap and sniffed it. The scent was subtle, but it was enough to send a tingle directly between my legs.

  I thought about those big strong arms . . . was it wrong to want them to manhandle me a little between the sheets? I recalled the way he’d grabbed my elbow and yanked me through his mother’s house today, and my insides caught fire.

  He had manners, but he didn’t always use them.

  Gah, that was so hot!

  I made up my mind—I had to seduce him. But how?

  I kept thinking about it while I dried off, rubbed body lotion into my skin, put on my pajamas, and brushed my teeth. In the end, it was my reflection in the mirror that brought me to my senses.

  For God’s sake, I was wearing an old Snoopy T-shirt and a faded pair of boy shorts. My hair was soggy, my underwear was plain old granny panty pink cotton—which you could see through a hole in my shorts—and I could no longer afford real pedicures, so my toes felt naked and unsexy.

  Everything about me felt unsexy.

  Giving up on the idea of seduction, I switched off the light, packed up my things, and went out to the living room.

  Griffin was sitting in the chair I’d slept in. The kitchen lights were out but moonlight streamed in through the tall front windows, illuminating the room in a silver sheen. Just the sight of the back of his head and his neck did things to me. As I got closer, I could see a sheet spread neatly over the cushions and a pillow at one end.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  He rose to his feet and faced me. “No problem. All done in the bathroom?”

  “Yes.” Self-conscious, I touched my wet, bedraggled hair. “I really appreciate the shower. I feel much better.”

  “Good.” He glanced down at my bare legs for a moment and then back toward his bedroom. “Guess I’ll feed the cat and go to bed.”

  “Okay.” But I didn’t want him to go. “I wish . . . never mind.”

  “What?”

  I shook my head. “It’s stupid.”

  “Tell me.”

  I stared at his chest as I spoke—at the biceps bulging against his sleeves, at the ink on his muscular arms, at the broadness of his shoulders. Desire was pooling at the center of me, bubbling like thick, hot, chocolate sauce. “I wish I’d met you under different circumstances, that’s all.”

  He took a step closer to me. “Why?”

  “Because I hate being dependent on you this way. It’s not that I don’t want to stay another night with you—it’s just that I wish it wasn’t because I needed to.” Our eyes locked. “I wish it was because you wanted me to.”

  “What if it was both?”

  “Huh?”

  “What if it was that you need to and I want you to?” His hands moved to my hips.

  “I hadn’t thought about it like that.” I slid my palms up his chest, rising on tiptoe. My stomach quivered. “Do you want me to?”

  He pulled my body flush against him, and I felt the answer before he said it. “Yes.”

  Our mouths came together, hot and searing. He kissed me the way I’d always dreamed about being kissed—wild and savage, like a starving animal devours its prey. Twenty-four hours of pent-up longing overwhelmed us, and our hands tore at clothing—whipping off T-shirts, yanking at shorts, unbuttoning, unzipping, shoving down jeans. When we were naked, the full lengths of our bodies pressed against each other, our hands sliding over hot, sweaty skin, he groaned and moved his mouth down the side of my throat. I tipped my head to the side and sighed at the decadent swirl of his tongue on my neck.

  Reaching between us, I sheathed his thick, towering cock with one hand, rubbing my thumb over its tip, moving my fist up and down its length, murmuring in appreciation and excitement.

  He growled and slipped a hand between my thighs, caressing me with surprisingly soft, gentle strokes until I thought I’d die if he didn’t penetrate me. I rocked my hips over his hand and he gave me what I wanted, sliding one long finger inside me, using the heel of his hand against my clit. Then he withdrew his finger and rubbed the warm, silky wetness in quick little circles and I felt like an oven buzzer was about to go off inside me.

  “Oh God,” I whispered, embarrassed that I might come this fast. I had to grip both his shoulders to even stay on my feet. “That feels so good. I haven’t—so long—don’t stop—yes, yes, yes—” I exploded in hot, pulsing beats, my core muscles clenching again and again. But I was greedy and desperate for more. I wanted him inside me. I wanted him to lose control the way I had. I wanted to make him come.

  But first, my legs gave out.

  He caught me—of course he did—grabbing me around my lower back and hoisting me up his body. I wrapped my legs around his waist as our mouths collided again, tongues searching, teeth bumping, lips opened wide. With my elbows on his shoulders, I threaded my hands through his hair as his hands kneaded my ass. Trapped between us, his cock was long and slick, and my entire body radiated with the need to take him in deep.

  “Would it be too forward of me to tell you I want you?” I panted against
his mouth. “Like right now?”

  Instead of answering, he moved toward the couch and knelt on it with one knee, setting me on my back on top of the sheet. “Don’t move,” he ordered.

  Propped on my elbows, I stayed where I was, watching him stride quickly back to his room. His naked back was perfection—the wide shoulders, the narrow waist, the perfect ass. My hands clenched into fists, eager to dig into that muscular flesh.

  He returned a moment later, and the sight of him in the moonlight stole my breath. Good God, did any man deserve such physical perfection? I thought I might hyperventilate as he tore open the condom and rolled it onto his dick. My toes were curling already.

  He knelt above me. “You’re so beautiful.”

  “I was thinking the same of you.”

  “No. I’m a dirty mechanic who can’t keep his hands to himself. Or his dick.”

  I opened my knees a little wider. “Don’t tease me.”

  He lowered his mouth to one breast, teasing my nipple with his tongue. He brought his hand to the other, filling his palm, flicking its stiff peak with his thumb. I groaned as he sucked and pinched and tormented me, my hands cradling his head, my body aching for him.

  “Griffin, please,” I begged.

  He finally gave in, inching into me slowly, his eyes closed, his mouth open. He growled and cursed, fighting for control.

  I was struggling to breathe as he stretched and filled me, my body tightening up reflexively before it began to relax.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Yes. Are you?”

  “I’m not sure. Give me a second.”

  Inside me, I felt a single telltale throb, heard him mutter a string of curse words, and I laughed. “Close?”

  “Shhh.”

  Just to be wicked, I rocked my hips beneath his. “You’re so big it hurts,” I whispered in his ear. “But your body is making me crazy. I’ve never wanted anyone so badly in my life.”

  “I knew you were trouble,” he said as I kissed his jaw, stroked his neck with my tongue, moved my hands to his lower back and down over his ass. “From the moment I saw you get out of that car, I swear to God I knew.”

  “Are you going to punish me for it?” I teased, pulling him in deeper, making both of us gasp.

  “You don’t know what you’re asking for, princess,” his voice gravelly with the struggle for control.

  “Then I guess you better show me.”

  It was like a switch in him flipped—his body roared to life above mine, and suddenly I found my wrists crossed and pinned above my head, my arms immobilized by his strength. He drove into me with deep, powerful thrusts—slowly at first, making me inhale sharply with every one. But somehow he was rough and commanding without being mean, and the pain began to blur with the pleasure of knowing everything I felt was at his whim. Knowing every ragged breath he took was for me. Knowing every agonizing groan meant he was torturing himself, holding back to make it last.

  Sometimes he’d pause, buried to the hilt, and perform some magical spiraling motion with his hips that made my body hum with hunger and desire. The base of his cock rubbed against my clit and I couldn’t speak, couldn’t beg, couldn’t breathe. I struggled to get my arms free, to no avail. My head thrashed from side to side—he was so unbearably deep—everything within me tightening and tightening—my insides a vise around his cock—the tension in me rising to impossible heights—and then suddenly I was riding out the most intense and glorious orgasm I’d ever experienced.

  Or maybe it was his climax I felt—deep and rhythmic and thunderous—the throbbing force behind it jarring my bones, shaking my core, tearing my body to pieces that scattered like stars all over the sky.

  Was this even real?

  I wasn’t sure—not even when he collapsed above me, not even when the scent of vanilla and Lava soap and sex mingled in my head, not even when he finally released my wrists and I could move my arms again.

  It was only when he lifted himself off my chest and asked if I was okay that I felt myself returning to earth.

  “I don’t know,” I said, still out of breath. “I might have just had an out-of-body experience.”

  A laugh rumbled in his throat. “Well, I had an in-your-body experience. And it was fucking amazing. Sorry if it was too fast and you missed it.”

  “It wasn’t, and I didn’t.” I rubbed my palms up and down his shoulders. “It was perfect. I’ve never felt an orgasm like that before. I don’t know what you did, but if my body has a language, you speak it.”

  “Good.” He sounded smug. Dropping a kiss on my lips, he said, “I’ll be right back.”

  He got off the couch, and I flopped onto my tummy, pulling the cool pillow beneath my cheek. My heart was still beating erratically, and my skin felt puckered with goosebumps, although it was hot as hell in the room. The sheet was damp beneath me.

  But I didn’t care. My body was completely relaxed, my mind was at ease, and I had the distinct feeling I was exactly where I was supposed to be. Maybe it wasn’t my final destination, but it was part of the journey to get there, and somehow I knew I was on the right road.

  A moment later, I heard Griffin moving around in the kitchen. “Just feeding the cat,” he said. “She’s making a bunch of noise in there.”

  “We probably woke her.”

  “We probably woke the entire block. My windows are open.”

  I giggled. “Good thing we’re married. Otherwise we’d cause a scandal.”

  He groaned. “You’re as bad as my sister. When are you leaving town again?”

  “As soon as you fix my car.”

  “Oh, right. That’s good incentive.” The refrigerator door opened and closed. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Sure,” I said, my eyelids drifting shut. I was almost asleep when I felt his hand on my back.

  “Hey.”

  I smiled and opened my eyes. “Hey.”

  He crouched down next to me. “I switched on the window unit in my bedroom. Why don’t you sleep in there with me?”

  “Isn’t that against the rules?”

  “Yes. But we’ve already broken the rules tonight anyway.”

  “Right.” I sat up and looked at him. He’d put on boxer briefs, but the sight of his bare chest threatened to light my fire all over again. In fact, I couldn’t stop my hand from reaching out and tracing the lettering on one of the tattoos near his collarbone. “And you think we’ll be better behaved in your bedroom?”

  “Hard no. But I’m willing to risk it.”

  Dropping my hand into my lap, I met his eyes in the shadowy dark. “I don’t want to make this weird, but are you sure this is okay? In general, I’ve always been a rule follower, and I want to respect yours, but I also really enjoyed those orgasms, so I—”

  “Jesus Christ, Blair.” Griffin ran a hand over his hair. “You’re not on trial. It’s just sex. It’s just one night. Now stop talking and come to bed.”

  When he put it that way, I had to agree. Tomorrow night I’d be somewhere else, so we wouldn’t even have to worry about it. Might as well cook while the oven was hot. “Okay.”

  He took my hand and led me back to his bedroom. As we passed the dining table, I noticed the kitten’s crate against the wall beside it.

  “You moved her out here?” I asked.

  “Yeah. I don’t want you to keep waking her up.”

  “Me?” I laughed as we entered his bedroom.

  “Yes, you.” He shut the door behind him, ditched the boxer briefs, and pushed me onto his bed.

  “You were loud too, you know,” I informed him as he moved up my body, his lips pressing kisses on my stomach, my breasts, my throat, until his face hovered above mine in the dark. Against my thigh, I could feel he was already growing hard again.

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yes. I think I learned some new curse words tonight.”

  He laughed—a low, guttural growl—and flipped onto his back, bringing my body on top of his. “Did I shock your
delicate sensibilities?”

  “In more ways than one,” I said, straddling his hips. “But mostly I’m just glad you made the first move. I was back here in the bathroom trying to think of ways to seduce you in my Snoopy T-shirt and ripped shorts. It was not going well.”

  “That would have been quite a show.”

  Leaning forward, I braced my hands above his shoulders and moved back and forth along the length of his cock, my damp hair giving off the apple blossom scent of my shampoo. “I can still try to give you a good show. Minus the Snoopy shirt, of course.”

  He put his hands on my hips, digging his fingers into my skin, and lifting his mouth to my breast. He inhaled deeply as his tongue stroked my hard, tingling nipple. “You smell so fucking good all the time. It drives me insane. I can’t keep my hands off you.”

  “Good.” I moaned as he took the pebbled peak in between his teeth and flicked it with his tongue. “Although it might make our whole boss/employee relationship a little difficult.”

  His head fell back. “Fuck that. You are not officially my employee yet. That starts tomorrow.”

  “And this ends?” I rocked back and forth a little faster. I was wet and eager all over again, my desire for him unquenchable.

  “This ends,” he said, breathing harder. “Do we have a deal?”

  “Absolutely. We don’t need any complications.”

  “Good. Now stop moving like that before I lose my shit and come all over my own stomach.”

  Laughing, I sat back as he reached over to his nightstand drawer for a condom. “Let me,” I said, taking it from him.

  He lay back on his elbows and watched me open the packet and place the condom over just the tip. Then, hoping to make the opening act of my show more memorable, I leaned forward and used my mouth to slowly push it all the way down, teasing his nipples with my fingertips while I worked. When I picked my head up, Griffin’s jaw was practically on his chest.