When Griff stopped the car and removed the blindfold, Sonnet stared straight ahead at the sign on the building. She’d tried to act normal after kissing him the night before, but she had a hard time keeping her eyes off his full, enticing lips. Seemingly unaware, Griff acted more relaxed around her and was in a good mood. She glanced his way when he killed the engine.
“So this explains that cocky look yesterday when you mentioned a surprise. Are you serious?”
“Always.”
“Have you done this before?”
“No, but I did the real deal in Fort Bragg. But how different can it be, aside from the lack of real heights and a pissed-off drill sergeant? I figured this would bring you as close to skydiving as you can get. And it’s fun. You game?”
She eyed the large sign for the Indoor Skydiving Experience. The building was pretty big, and she was a feet-both-firmly-planted kind of gal, but why not? “Uh, I guess so? Yeah, okay, I’ll give it a shot.”
“Cool.” He shut off the car, dashed around to her side, and opened her door. He did this each time they were in a car together, and she enjoyed it. Most men would hold the door open a second longer for her at the store or hospital so she could walk through it, but Griff made the effort to be chivalrous and got there before she had a chance to open her door, and helped pull out the seat.
“So, how did you find out about this place?”
“Some guys in the academy were talking about it a few weeks ago. I booked us a session yesterday through an online deal. We get a one minute flight each, but we have to go through a training class first.”
Sonnet smirked. “This should be interesting.”
Inside, they met Patrick, a flight instructor for the simulated flight. He was a nice, dark-haired guy around their age who showed them around the facility and the vertical wind tunnel. They sat side by side through a twenty-minute training class, and watched a video on the correct flight position and hand signals. Sonnet was glad she’d dressed down in jeans and a soft V-neck. No skirts to blow Marilyn Monroe–style, though she didn’t think Griff would mind.
When Patrick asked them who wanted to go first, Griff raised Sonnet’s arm for her. “You’re going,” he laughed. She was about to protest, but to see his beautiful smile melted away her resistance. It lit his whole face in an addictive way. Every time it graced his face from behind the veneer of his usual stoic expression, she wanted to put her fingers to his lips.
He helped her put on the helmet and goggles on with a giddy eagerness, and afterward she got fitted into her padded flight suit.
“I’m so glad to contribute to your happiness by the fact that I look like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man right now.”
He tightened her chinstrap and rapped his knuckles on her helmet. “You look stinking adorable. I’m calling you Stinkerbell from here on out.” He whipped out his cell. “You okay if I take some pictures?”
“Why not. I always wanted someone to blackmail me,” she grumbled. “Might as well provide you with some fodder.”
He chuckled as Patrick led her to the entry door of the flight chamber.
Once, when she was a child alone in the backseat of their car, Papi was distracted talking to Abuela and, Sonnet had rolled down her window, stuck her head out, and got her face blown to smithereens by the wind as they raced along the freeway. She’d opened her mouth to scream in delight, and her cheeks flapped in the breeze. She got yelled at afterward, but it was one of her more cherished memories. The moment she laid on her stomach in the flight chamber and the wind began to lift her like a feather she knew this experience would top it.
Within a few seconds, she flew in the middle of the small, see-through room, arms spread-eagle and hair streaming out behind her. Griff grinned behind the glass, snapping shots left and right. She tried to keep a calm face, but she ended up laughing her head off, which made him laugh in turn. His joy and energy zoomed into her like a lightning bolt, and she knew she needed him in her life.
The actual flight lasted just over a minute, but it was the most sensational thing she’d ever done. Patrick helped her stand when it was over, and she gave Griffith a hug. His strong arms enfolded her, and she closed her eyes to savor his warmth.
He lifted her goggles and fixed them over the helmet. “I’d ask if you had fun, but it’s pretty obvious you did. How about we try the real deal sometime?”
“Damn straight. That was incredible.” She ran a hand down her hair and knew she wore a goofy grin. “Thank you for taking us here. I’ll never forget it.”
Griffith ducked his head. “You’re welcome.”
Patrick stepped next to Griffith. “Would you like me to get a picture of you two? You can show it to your kids one day.”
Sonnet put a hand to her neck and blushed. “Oh, we’re not—”
“Sure.” Griff handed Patrick his phone. “Just press the icon in the middle.”
Before she knew what was happening, he’d tucked her into his side, his arm around her. “Say cheese, Sonnet, for the kids,” he joked.
She turned her head to him and giggled.
“Got it.” Patrick handed the phone back to Griff.
“Thanks, man.”
Sonnet took his cell phone as he suited up, and found the photo. In it, Griffith’s eyes reflected genuine happiness, and she had her head tilted in such a way that made her look smitten. His large hand covered her shoulder, and they looked…in love. No wonder Patrick thought they were together. If she were a stranger looking at the photo, that’s exactly what she would think.
Griff fixed on his safety goggles. “Wish me luck.”
“You don’t need luck, you’ll kick ass.” As he rounded the corner, she sent the photo of them together to her cell phone. She wanted that picture. She wanted to frigging frame it.
Twenty minutes later, they walked out to the parking lot. “It’s always the quiet ones,” she quipped. He’d been ecstatic, whooping it up as he soared in the flight chamber
“Hey, I’m a marine. We’re loud and proud. What do you expect?” He held her car door open, and she paused with her hand on the top of it. She didn’t want to give him the wrong idea when she’d already laid down the law about not wanting a boyfriend, but she didn’t want their time together to end so soon. His hidden playful, fun nature was addicting, and she wanted more.
“Griff, what are you doing the rest of the day?”
He shrugged. “Nothing much. I need to study for the exam later on, but my day’s open.”
“Well…there’s the new Star Wars movie opening today. You want to grab a bite and go watch, if it’s not sold out yet?”
His eyes lit up. “Yes!” He cleared his throat. “I mean, that’d be cool.”
They settled on a nearby Indian restaurant, and she tried chicken tikka masala for the first time in her life. Its rich, unique flavor became an instant favorite. “I wish I’d tried Indian food a long time ago. This is gorgeous,” she moaned.
“You can’t beat a good curry.” Griff mopped up some mango chutney with a ripped edge of naan bread he’d torn from the tandoori serving tray between them. “Good, huh?”
“Incredible. Indoor skydiving and spicy foods. You’re full of surprises, Officer Parker. What’s next?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” His voice dropped, and a hot rush of blood shot to her pussy. He’d said things like that before, unintentional and innocent, but her body came to attention every single time. She might as well have sung Poison’s “Talk Dirty to Me” to give him a hint.
“Well, I hope you enjoyed it,” he said into his glass.
She set her fork on the plate and dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “I did. This is hands down the best day I’ve had in a long time. Thank you.”
“You deserve it. Tell me some more about your dad, and Argentina. I’ve never been there.”
She launched into a few fun stories about her childhood. She knew he didn’t like to talk about his family much; he’d talk when he was ready. She kept the conversation on her dad, and how she fell in love with the ocean on the waterfront of Argentina. Beneath the table, their knees grazed and their legs lightly touched.
Sonnet had been dying to see the new Star Wars movie, and since her girlfriends weren’t into the franchise, Griff was the perfect companion. She got him to do a few Obi-Wan and Yoda impressions before the movie began, and they shared a tub of popcorn.
She was hard-pressed not to slip her hand into his. How in the hell was she meant to live with this incredible specimen of a man and not give in to her desires?
The line between her career goals and desire for Griff was becoming muddier by the minute, to the point where she wanted to say the hell with it, and give in to the emotions that sparked between them. She needed to back off before she couldn’t see the line anymore, no matter how hard he made it.
She wouldn’t give up her chance to go to medical school.
She loved the movie and couldn’t stop talking about it. He mentioned the actor who played the villain had once served as a marine, which surprised her. They talked about the movie for ages and grabbed take out on the way home.
After she threw her laundry into the wash and they ate dinner, Sonnet settled into her favorite chair for some study time and a glass of wine. Griffith said good night, went into his room to study for his exam, and left her in peace.
He had a knack for knowing her patterns, and she liked and appreciated that. Plus, after such a fabulous day, she needed to get some distance from him and put her lust on low simmer.
She studied for a while, then took out her cell to stare at the photo of them. They looked good together. She ran a finger down Griffith’s image and zoomed in. Jeez, he was drop-dead gorgeous.
She couldn’t study anymore, so she popped in a movie and stayed awake until two to reset her body clock. Griff must have gone to bed; he liked to catch up on his sleep on the weekends. She dozed off with her head against a throw pillow, and stirred to strong arms lifting her up. She kept her eyes closed and feigned sleep as Griffith carried her down the hall to her bedroom. She nestled her cheek into his chest, and his thumb stroked her back in response.
He lay her gently on her sheets, and spread her duvet over her. She kept pretending to be asleep, and felt him watch her. The soft, warm press of his lips skimmed her forehead, and then he was gone.
She touched the spot he’d kissed, and allowed the sweet abyss of sleep to take her.
* * * *
Early the next morning, Sonnet blinked awake to a thin ray of sunlight spilling in through the blinds. Her body clock still had the disobliging habit of believing it should be awake when she needed to sleep. Shit. Her stomach grumbled, and she kicked a foot in the air to move the covers so she could get up to use the bathroom. Afterward, she made her way to the kitchen. She was still in her nightshirt, which cut off just above the top of her thighs, but from the sound of it, Griffith was still asleep, so he wouldn’t see her leg display.
She put water in the K-Carafe and listened to the hiss and gurgle of the brew as she got some organic eggs and soy milk out to scramble. She decided to make Griffith breakfast, too, even if it had to wait for him in the fridge. It was nice to have someone to look after again.
Hell, after yesterday, he deserved it. She knew she shouldn’t entertain starting something with him with medical school on the horizon, but after spending time with him, a great weight had been lifted off her shoulders, and she was ready to start fresh and tackle her workweek. She sang a little, opened the fridge, and bent to retrieve the bacon from the bottom shelf. A sharp intake of breath filled the silence from a few feet away.
From under her arm she saw Griff, half naked in black sweat bottoms with the Police Academy logo. Her eyes drifted to the hard planes of his abs, a sculpted eight pack most men would give their left nut for. His stacked chest rose and fell, and his fists clenched. Like a current in the air, she could feel him trying to keep it together.
Her gaze trailed past his ribs and flat stomach, down the sharp V of his hip flexors, to the promise of what lay beneath.
Finally, her brain kicked in and she realized her bikini thong was on display with the globes of her ass cheeks parted and raised in the air, like she was waiting for him to grab hold and ride. Her hair chose the wrong moment to slide over her shoulder and into her face, and he let out a strangled moan.
Oh, God.
She stood and yanked the hem of her shirt down. “Jeez, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think you were up. I was just about to make breakfast before I got changed.”
He gulped. Her eyes flicked to the hardened bulge of his cock, which tented against his sweats. He looked like he wanted to devour her. “I…need to use the bathroom,” he growled tightly, then marched down the hall and slammed the bathroom door.
She looked at the exposed bottom half of her panties, and rolled her eyes. “Great, Sonnet. Just great.” She turned off the stove, abandoned the breakfast food, and made her way to her bedroom. A stifled moan escaped from behind the closed bathroom door as she passed, and stopped her in her tracks.
In any other circumstance she wouldn’t give it a second thought—people moaned all the time because they were tired or relieved—but she listened. It was a certain kind of moan, one she made the first night she’d met him when she touched herself.
She heard a distinctive rhythmic thwacking of flesh upon flesh, a series of muffled pants, a grunt, and soft thud against the wall, and her pussy throbbed. She clenched her thighs together and put her palm over her mouth.
Fuck, that was for her.
She stared at the closed door. In a daze, she wandered into her bedroom and pushed the door shut. Her pussy pulsed. She needed relief, now. She lay on her bed, and slid a hand over her shirt. She bit her lip, closed her eyes, and strained to hear his still faint moans. She slid her hand beneath her panties, fingered her clit, and drew a shallow breath as a jolt went through her. But it wasn’t enough.
Desperate, she stuffed two fingers inside her slick cavern, and bucked her hips against them. Ah, better. She kneaded her breast with her free hand. The moan that escaped a second later was louder than she intended, and with wide eyes, she stared at the door.
Had he heard?
Oh, who the hell cared, she needed to come. She eased in a third finger and thrust hard.
The tension inside wound tight. She bucked her hips, and moaned his name. She’d never been this aroused in her life. Her body grew restless and hot, and she longed for him to burst through the door, to take her, to fuck her. She knew he wouldn’t, but a girl could dream.
She sped up her thrusts, desperate to come. The wet slosh of her nectar filled the room along with her cries. She knew she was being way too loud, but she didn’t care. A minute later, she arched her back and whispered his name as her juices flowed over her fingers. After coming down, she lifted her hands over her head as her body relaxed.
She reached over for her cell phone on the nightstand, and found the picture of them with his arm around her. She focused on his image.
Nails scraped along the wood of her bedroom door, and she turned her head toward it. She knew without a doubt he was there, behind it, the way you know someone’s watching you. The doorknob moved as if it would turn, and she caught her breath.
If he comes in here, I’ll let him do what he wants. I’ll welcome it.
The thought scared and thrilled her at once. She wanted him. She was so not in control with this man, and it terrified her. But, on the other hand, she hungered for him.
The doorknob returned to its normal position after a minute. His footsteps retreated. When his door closed, she stared at the ceiling and tried to breathe. Damn.
Sonnet waited a good fifteen minutes before leaving her room to take a shower and get ready before she dared to head back to the kitchen. The clean freshness gave her a sense of control, as if it would ward off the carnal urges Griff brought out of her.
She opened the kitchen curtains, cracked a window, turned on some music, and set about to actually make breakfast this time. Once the eggs were scrambled and the bacon sizzled, she fixed plates for them.
His door creaked open, and his footsteps echoed in the hall. She wiped her hands on a dishtowel and set it on the counter. “Hey, so I made us bacon, eggs, and toas—” Her voice caught in her throat when she saw the set of his face.
He walked straight toward her, determined. And it seemed like nothing—a simple movement, a play of light and shadow in a sun-splashed patch by the open kitchen window, but she knew, inexplicably, he was about to kiss her.
His gaze never wavered. She stood stock-still as he threaded his long fingers past her cheek, into her hair, and then his lips descended. She turned her head into the kiss, and wound her arms around his neck. His lips tugged at hers, soft and full, and his hands clutched the back of her shirt for purchase as he devoured her.
He tasted divine, and she knew she wouldn’t be the one to stop.
She couldn’t.
His hand slid down, squeezed her jean-clad ass, and he hauled her to him. She gasped into his mouth. His tongue dove right in, and tangled with hers. Sonnet whimpered, and wound her right leg around his. He tasted like spearmint, and he surrounded her to the point where the room faded.
She stroked his shoulders and drowned in his kiss. Take me, she wanted to say. I’m yours.
But, eventually, Griff stopped and rested his chin on top of her head. Sonnet put her palms on his chest and caught her breath.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“No. It was—”
“I shouldn’t have done that. I remember what you said about not wanting anything. But I had to.”
She gulped, and rubbed his arms, afraid to look at him. “I’m glad you did.”
He pulled back and searched her eyes, the sunlight bright behind him. The lyrics to the song on the radio mocked the emotional state of their relationship, about wanting what you can’t have, and she yearned to take a baseball bat to the radio.
“You are?”
She nodded. “I mean, I still can’t…but I’m glad you did. It was…nice.”
He looked at her lips and cupped her cheek. “More than nice.”
Sonnet closed her eyes and tried to breathe. “Listen, Griffith, I—mmm.”
He cut her off when his mouth captured hers again, and her brain took a hike. He turned them around and lifted her onto the kitchen counter. He closed his mouth over the side of her neck, and sucked.
Sonnet’s eyes rolled to the back of her head. Her nipples hardened. She parted her legs and wrapped them around his waist. His hard heat pressed against her pussy, and the jolt that coursed through her woke her up to what was about to happen.
“Griff, mmm…. We can’t.”
His lips hovered over the wet flesh of her neck, where he’d marked her. “I want you…but I want what you want. If you tell me no, I’ll respect it.”
She rested her forehead against his shoulder. She willed her frantic heartbeat to slow. All she wanted to do was shed their clothes and go to her bedroom, but she needed to be smart here.
“I want…a lot of things. And it would help if you weren’t so wonderful and such an amazing kisser, and so near all the time, but—”
His lips claimed hers again, and she clutched his shoulders as he made her forget what she’d been about to say in the first place. She had no idea how long they stayed like that, making out over the kitchen counter like a pair of horny teenagers, but with time suspended they explored each other, bathed in the soft sunlight.
His lips were sweeter than honey, his touch hot as lava, and all she wanted was to be with him.
His large palm slid up her side until it covered her right breast. Lightly, he massaged it. He ran his thumb across her nipple and she jumped at the sensation. She couldn’t pretend she didn’t know where this was headed. She took a deep breath and moved his wrist away. She nudged his nose with hers, and pushed him away.
“Time to stop.”
Hunger glazed over his eyes and begged to differ, but he took a step back and turned around. She licked her lips as she watched him reach inside his jeans to adjust himself. By the feel of him against her, his cock was pretty damn big and hard as steel, and it took every last ounce of willpower she had not to jump him and drag him to her bed.
She slid from the counter and straightened her clothes. “I haven’t made out like that in…I don’t think I’ve ever made out like that.”
He turned and put his hands on her hips. His thumbs stroked her hipbones through her jeans. “Same here.”
She eyed the hard planes of his chest through his shirt, and mustered up the courage to explain. “Griff, I—”
“You don’t owe me anything.” He took her hand, placed it over his heart, and covered it with his palm. “I’m not trying to collect here. I’m not one of those guys.”
An ache filled her at the earnestness in his eyes. “I know you’re not.”
“What happened just now, I did it because it’s all I’ve wanted to do since I met you. You’re beautiful, Sonnet. And so good inside. I…”
She reached on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “If it were any other time in my life, I’d be the luckiest woman in the world,” she whispered into his ear. “And I loved just now…but let’s be practical and not start something we might have to end, okay?”
She backed up a step and looked at him. A frown marred his handsome face, but he nodded.
“I’ll follow your lead and respect whatever you wish.”
Sonnet folded her arms and blinked. “Thank you.”
She went to get her purse. She needed to get out and have some alone time, or she really would sleep with him.
But for all her chatter about the right decisions, she was already neck deep in Griffith Creek without a paddle. A fuse had been lit from the second she met him, and like a tornado on a rampage it couldn’t stop.