Immortal Desire by Tompkins Denise

Author:Tompkins, Denise [Tompkins, Denise]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-12-01T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

Whatever turned Bailey into the Happy Humper was winding up, the increasingly familiar need just beginning to stir. Cramps were still mild, so she had time.

“To do what?” she whispered, staring at Griff’s back.

He glanced over his shoulder, nostrils flaring. “It’s happening again?”

She nodded.

He turned away, head falling forward, hands dangling between his knees.

Somewhere in the apartment a clock ticked, eating up the silence one second at a time. The air conditioner kicked on with a soft rush that drowned out time’s passage with innocuous white noise.

He wordlessly stood and rested his palms against the wall. Shoulders rapidly rising and falling with every sharp breath, he leaned forward and rested his forehead against the wall. “This isn’t going the way it was supposed to. I can’t do this.”

Bailey hadn’t taken her eyes off that long, strong back as he stood. Now she couldn’t look away, and she wanted to. More than anything, she wanted to. “That’s it, isn’t it?”

“That’s what?” he asked, voice flat, almost resigned.

“You’re sorry you got into this.” The way her voice wavered infuriated her.

She should have known, should have suspected it would end up here. He was clearly sorry he’d made the effort with her. This was the worst part of every affair. With Griff, though? The waiting was killing her. Any moment now, he would turn and look her over with such abject disappointment she’d never recover.

Moving in a nearly blind haze of mortification, she reached for her shorts with a trembling hand. Gotta get out of here. If she hurried, she could probably make it to the elevator before the first tear fell. What she wouldn’t give for three wishes. The first would make her scathingly witty when pissed off, binding her penchant to cry when angry. The second would deal with scrubbing away her humiliation over this whole debacle. The third—

A hot, hard hand closed over her upper arm. “Bailey, listen.”

Panic pulled a total drive-by and yanked her out of the driver’s seat before racing off with her sanity. She rounded on him, blindly striking out.

Griff caught her fist and jerked her around. Folding her arm behind her and pressing her against the wall seemed fluid and effortless. The heavy weight of his body pinned her. His hips pressed into her ass, the heavy weight of his cock a heated brand his satin pants only emphasized.

He didn’t loosen his hold when he lowered his mouth to her ear. “Want to tell me what that was about?”

Bailey’s heart thrashed about in her chest like a wounded bird. She couldn’t get enough air, couldn’t break his hold, couldn’t think. Words wouldn’t come. The best she managed was a single shake of her head.

“Okay. Let’s try this. Where were you going?”

The way his breath scalded the shell of her ear made her shiver. “Don’t know. Thought I’d figure it out on my way down.”

“There’s nothing to figure out. You need to stay here.”

She struggled silently against his hold. It was wasted effort in the face of his strength, but she didn’t care.

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