Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 158872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 530(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 530(@300wpm)
“Molly,” he gasps. His fingers twine in my hair again, snagging on the little rose clips. “Molly—”
Warm, salty liquid splashes against my tongue and I jerk my head away, sputtering.
“Fuuuck.” He groans even louder.
Shit. I was supposed to keep my mouth on him, wasn’t I? “I’m sorry.”
He curls his hand over mine and prods me to keep stroking his cock. Much rougher than I was doing on my own. Fascinated, I watch him twitch, shudder, and moan through his release.
Panting, he falls against the pillows. I release him and hurry off the bed to grab a towel from the bathroom.
“Molly,” he rasps.
“Be right there.” I hurry into the bedroom and, unsure of what to do, hand him the towel.
“Why’d you leave?” He swipes at the mess on his stomach with the towel, then swings his legs over the side of the bed and stares at me. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I drop my gaze to my feet. “I messed up at the end…I…didn’t…”
“Molly.” He curls his fingers around mine. “You can’t mess that up. Trust me.” He groans and stands, wobbling like a newborn colt for a moment. “You sucked the balance right out of me.”
Laughing, I wrap my arm around his waist. “I’ve got you.”
“Come shower with me.” He leads me into the bathroom.
“I…” Oh, this is silly.
“What?”
What a dumb, girly thing to worry about. I tug on my now messy curls and one of the long braids with the small rosettes woven into it. “I don’t want to get my hair wet.”
“This is a nice place. Let’s see if they have one of those shower cap thingies.”
I blink. My grandmother wore shower caps. It seems kinda unsexy to wear one in front of Griff.
In the bathroom, he finds a small box on the counter and pries one end loose. “Here we go.” He slides a clear plastic cap out.
My nose wrinkles.
“What?” He holds it out to me.
“That’s not very…sexy?”
He bursts into laughter. “Disagree. My gorgeous, naked girlfriend in nothing but a shower cap is pretty fucking hot.” He motions for me to turn around. “Get over here. You got a clip or something?”
“My backpack.” I hurry into the bedroom and unzip the front pocket, pulling out a medium-sized brown hair claw, which should hopefully hold most of my hair, and my cosmetic bag.
Griff has the cap stretched between his hands, waiting for me. Something about it seems so…familiar, intimate, or domestic. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but it leaves warmth glowing in my chest as I turn and twist my hair into a loose knot and secure it with the clip. Gently he slides the cap over my head, tucking loose strands of hair under the thin elastic. For such a big guy, he’s careful not to tug too hard on my hair.
“I think we got it all.” He pats my behind, then turns toward the shower stall, opens the glass door, and twists the knobs. A powerful jet of water pelts the tile wall.
Damn, I’m going to have to wash all my makeup off too. I stare in the mirror for a second. My lipstick’s wrecked, what’s left of it smeared around my mouth. Black eyeliner’s starting to migrate lower, and the little wings at the corners of my eyes have been smudged. The false lashes Ella so carefully applied need to come off. It’s not like Griff hasn’t seen me without makeup plenty of times. Most of the time, really.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“Nothing. I uh…should wash my makeup off. I don’t want you to watch, though.”
That was the dumbest thing I could’ve said. It encourages him to walk closer. Staring at me with curiosity shining in his eyes, he asks, “Why?”
“Because.” I twist the warm water on and run a washcloth under the faucet.
He chuckles softly. “Okay. I’m still gonna recognize my girl, right?”
I whap him with the wet washcloth. “Yes.”
He laughs harder. “Don’t make me wait too long.”
As soon as the glass door whooshes closed behind him, I press the warm washcloth to my face. It’s stiff and scratchy, not like the softer makeup removal cloths I’d use at home. Didn’t think to pack one of those. I search through my cosmetic pouch and pull out a tiny bottle of face wash and the little tin Ella gave me to store the lashes in.
When I’m as clean faced as I can get, I head for the shower.
I’m going to shower with Griff.
How many times have I daydreamed about this? And I stopped to scrub off my makeup first? What’s wrong with me?
The door nudges open. Warm, soap-scented mist swirls around me. “There’s my little muffin.” He holds out his hand.
My heart melts, and the long list of things I keep doing wrong tonight seems to disappear. “Sorry,” I murmur as I step inside.
“Hey.” He grabs my hips and backs me against the shower wall. “Stop apologizing.”