I walk to the bathroom and grab my iPhone, checking it once more.

Nothing.

I can’t lie and say I’m not upset because deep down I am. But being upset means I’m caring too much and I can’t afford to let myself get out of hand like I did our first night together. I refuse.

Grabbing my gold wallet-clutch, I safely tuck my phone into it and just as I grab my room key to store it, a knock sounds at my door.

My heartbeat accelerates, my head whipping to the right. My throat thickens, and this warm, fuzzy feeling swarms my entire body because I know exactly who it is.

There is only one person who knows where I am right now. Not even Scott knows. As I make my way across the room, peeking through the peephole, I am correct.

Griffin Boyd stands behind my door, the collar of his shirt undone, his hair messy and beautiful. He’s looking down at the floor, and his shoulders drop when he sighs, as if he’s finally glad to be here—away from whatever stressed him out.

The stress visibly slips off his shoulders. He really wants to be here. I can’t keep him waiting.

I unlock the door and swing it open, and as soon as I do his hard, brown eyes run down my body, head to toe. He stands up straight, and his tongue gradually runs across his lips. When he finally locks eyes with me, I can’t help but smile.

Here he is.

In the flesh, eager to be around me.

Eager, I know, because he wastes no time stepping towards me and reeling me into his arms, crushing my lips with zealous heat. I moan behind the kiss, caught completely off guard by his suddenness.

Nevertheless, I sink into him, my delicate body molding with the solid contours of his. His hand immediately cups my ass, the other slamming the door behind us.

Slowly, he walks forward, my feet scampering backwards in my heels, until the backs of my legs hit the edge of the bed and he lands on top of me. It’s quick and so fucking hot. His lips never pull away from mine, not even for a second.

For a split moment, I have the urge to ask him what the hold up was—why he made me wait and didn’t bother calling me back—but then I realize that doesn’t matter anymore. It doesn’t matter because he’s here now, ready to fulfill my every desire.

“Where did you think you were going?” he asks gruffly, clutching my face tighter in his hands.

“Thought you weren’t coming,” I breathe as his lips skim my jawline and trail down to the hollow of my neck. “I wanted a drink… or three.” I smile at my statement and he comes back up, looking me in the eyes.

“That’s funny?”

“I think so.”

“I was coming.”

“You took forever.”

“I had… things to take care of.” He pulls back, perched on one elbow.

“Like what?”

He blinks, but doesn’t respond, and when he doesn’t I realize the exact reason why. He made a promise not to say her name—not to mention her around me. He can’t even say it. So I know.

“Your wife.” I wiggle from beneath him and he draws away.

Rubbing his face, he says, “She had a dinner planned with this lowlife couple. Complete waste of my time.”

“If you knew it was going to be a waste of time, why did you stay?”

He shrugs. “She asked me to. It was either stay, or face sudden doom when I came back.”

“Oh.” I drop my head and laugh a bit. “So… less than a week ago you didn’t give a fuck anymore about how she made you feel, but now, you care? Sounds like something has changed since you got back home. Are you here to call it off with me?”

His eyes narrow, anger now present. “Do you think I would have even showed up if I wanted to call it off?”

“Well, you are a few hours late.”

He sighs, sliding in closer to my side. When he presses his lips together to smile, I realize I’m overreacting. “Don’t think too much, Angelina. Please.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, tucking my hair behind my ear. “You’re right. You’re so right. I’m thinking way too much about this.” But it doesn’t mean I will stop.

He reaches up to twist a few strands of my hair around his finger. “Your hair… it’s different.” His mouth twitches to smile. “I like it.”

“Yeah?”

“Did you do this for me?” he asks, studying my mane.

“Um, no,” I laugh, playfully swatting his hand away. “I just decided on something different.”

He shrugs one shoulder, his hand possessively clutching my upper thigh. “Doesn’t matter,” he mumbles. “Regardless, it’s going to get fucked up tonight.”

My sex clenches as I fight a smile. I can feel my nipples pebbling beneath my strapless bra, warmth running to my core. All arousal springs out of me as Griffin’s hand moves north on my thigh.

“Let’s get you out of this dress, huh?” he murmurs, grabbing the hem. “Get you comfortable.” His mouth comes to the bend of my neck and he kisses me there, so tenderly, so smoothly, I ache like never before. With ease, he pulls my dress over my head as I kick my heels off and as I sit with nothing but my strapless bra and panties on, he asks, “How bad do you want my cock, Angel? Hmm? How long have you ached for me to be inside your sweet pussy again?”

“I’ve been waiting for days, Griffin.”

“It’s only been seventy-two hours,” he chuckles.

“And with each one, I wanted you more and more.”

He tilts his head back, a smirk on his lips as he asks, “Really?” He cups one of my breasts, and one of his fingers curls beneath the padding to toy with my nipple.

“Yep,” I breathe.

“Funny, babe, because I’ve felt the exact same way.” Babe… that’s new. I like it. Griffin’s eyes fix on mine, and since I’m so sick of waiting, I make the first move.

I kiss him with my whole being, throwing my arms around the back of his neck and climbing on top of his lap.

He allows me to take charge for a max of thirty seconds, but then flips me over, his hard groin plunging between my legs, his hands clasping mine and securing them above my head.

“Take care of me,” I moan when our kiss finally breaks. “I need it. I’ve missed your cock so much.”

His lips spread, breaking into a smile as he releases my hands and I unbutton the rest of his shirt. He pulls me forward, sitting me up straight and reaching around me to unhook my bra.

And as he does, he’s placing sweet kisses on my shoulder, my collarbone, and my neck. His breath runs warm on my skin, fingers so firm yet so gentle.

I allow him to do as he wishes, because what he wants is always so fulfilling to me. “Still whatever I want, right?” he asks.

“Of course. Always.”

His cheek quirks up, and in no time I’m flipped onto my stomach. His hand comes to my ass and he spanks one of my cheeks.

I yelp and then sink my teeth into my lower lip, fire building in my chest. He groans, his fingers sneaking beneath the strap of my panties. He tugs them down, and then the bed dips.

I glance back, and he’s unbuckling his belt and undoing his slacks. He shrugs out of his shirt, revealing rock-hard abs I can’t help but admire.

His cock springs free once those briefs are gone, and my clit throbs at the sight of it. Hey boy, I think to myself. I remember you. How could I forget?

Eyes shifting up to Griffin’s, I smile at him, and as if he can read my mind—as if he knows I’m just as ready as he is—he climbs back on the bed, whispering, “Stay just like that, Angel.”

He grips my waist, slightly positioning my ass in the air so that my stomach is lifted only a little, right where he wants it, and then he hovers above me, one hand going outside my ribcage, while the other grips my throat and forces my head back.

My eyes are pointed up to the ceiling. After a while, I can’t see the ceiling because his whiskey eyes replace it, brewing and ready.

Then his mouth comes down hard on mine, and he smothers it, squeezing the base of my throat just a little tighter while his cock presses at my entrance from the back.