Grissom by Irish Winters

Author:Irish Winters [Winters, Irish]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Windy Days Press
Published: 2023-11-10T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

Tuesday had no experience with men, but the best lesson she’d learned early in life was simple: ‘If there’s a will, there’s a way.’ And she was plenty willful. Hopeful, too. The only way to get the experience she desired with Grissom would be by practice, and practice made perfect. So…

Positioning herself over his lap with her legs spread did the trick. Grissom’s brown eyes were hooded again and his fingertips were digging into the cheeks of her backside, his thumbs into the tight crease between her thighs and abdomen. Her heart was seriously running one heck of a marathon, and she was nervous. But Grissom needed to know she was in this—whatever it was—with him, all the way.

A fiery line of tension ran down her centerline, joining her pounding heart to the heat pooling between her legs. If this was what it took to take their relationship to the next step, dayam, she was ready. She wanted Grissom, and whatever he needed or wanted to do with her. To her. If only she could stop shaking like a freaking virgin.

“I… I don’t know what comes next,” she murmured, afraid to look him in the eye, studying the shiny snaps on his shirt instead. “Show me?”

“Yes, ma’am.” With a grunt, he was on his feet, his fingers splayed over her ass, and walking swiftly into the hall. Nudging the door to his guest bedroom open, he elbowed the light switch on before setting her on the bed across the room. Returning to the door, he closed it, twisted the lock in the knob, and asked, “Lights on or off?”

“On,” she whispered, watching Grissom strip, needing to see him uncover every last part of the hard corded, all-male body she’d been secretly eying all day. She licked her lips at the thought of being with a behemoth like him. Being beneath him with his full weight spread over her. Hungrily. Eagerly waiting for the first sex of her life.

At last, she was on her first Grissom tour. He’d already popped the snaps on his shirt. It was open and untucked while his fingers deftly unbuckled his belt, and he toed off his boots. Rolling a hefty, tattooed shoulder, he tossed his shirt and then his pants aside. But not before he revealed the pocket pistol tucked into an ankle holster and the wicked blade sheathed and strapped behind his back.

“You were armed today?” she asked, her eyes scrolling over that fortress of a chest. The much-touted six-pack, comprising at least six tendons, sometimes more, stretched from left to right across his well-developed rectus abdominis. That was another tempting sight to behold. As was the black-as-sin tattoo running down his arm.

“I’m always armed, darling,” he replied, his voice husky and his eyes bright, more black than hazel. Man, were they bright. Not sparkling with mischief, but glowering like barely banked coals with lust, strength, and a toe-tingling, sizzling energy that had long ago turned her nipples into diamonds.

In no way was

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