"No, but I'll need to make sure there's a sturdy surface nearby. No way in hell you're going to be standing afterwards."

  I gulped down a response, a splash of heat trickling down my body, resting solidly between my thighs. He ticked every single one of my must have, sexy boxes and then some. I'd never responded to a man's words or touch like I did Griff's.

  "Come on. Let's go inside before I take you right out here on the porch," he said, pulling me flush against him to show me precisely how much he meant his last statement. My hands found the front of his jeans, giving him an eager squeeze to show him exactly how much I anticipated his threat. I lingered a little longer than I had anticipated when I saw the desire that gathered behind his eyes.

  Making him want me was an intoxicating drug.

  He released a pleased groan as his eyes closed down over his lust, his head snapping backwards. The palm of my hand ground down over the tip of his member, applying just enough pressure for him to take the Lord's name in vain.

  "Fuck it," he mumbled, his eyes opening quickly. Determination settled onto his chiseled features.

  He rushed towards the front door, swiping a plastic rock from the wooden planks, fishing a key out of a secret latch underneath. Throwing the front door open, he ushered me inside. "Upstairs," he said pointing towards the staircase directly in front of us. "Second door on the right. Now," he ordered. His breathing was labored but his voice was as calm and assertive as ever.

  I made my way up the steps, my ears prickling forward when I heard the door slam behind me. Griff's boots clacked across the hardwood, his body coming towards me at a sprint. Before I had time to react, he'd picked me up into his arms, carrying me the rest of the distance.

  He kicked the door open, the silver knob hitting the wall with a resounding thud. The room looked and felt untouched, remnants of Griff's past reaching out to greet me. Pictures of past memories stared back at me, trophies that served as hangers for medals sat littered throughout the room. My eyes combed over the bed, a weathered sports themed comforter covered the solid oak furniture.

  "Nice comforter, Griff," I quipped, wishing immediately that I hadn't when I gauged the seriousness that had gathered behind his eyes. He grunted in response, throwing me onto the referenced item. I bounced awkwardly up and down, my heart thudding in nervous unison with the action.

  Pulling his shirt over his head, he revealed a magnificent set of muscles. Not that I hadn't witnessed them before, but this time I was front and center and the show was intended solely for my pleasure. He leaned forward, his hands landing on my thighs as he parted them roughly, my nakedness spreading open for him. His fingers snaked farther apart the closer he got to my center, stopping short only when he reached a dead end. His eyes were zeroed in on my sex, his concentration on me throwing me into a reckless tailspin.

  He licked his lips lustfully, hungrily. "God, you're beautiful," he mumbled, his eyes hurdling headfirst into a dangerous pit of lust.

  His fingers leapt forward, creating magical sensations. It was a euphoric high, one created only by the expertise of his hands. No drug could make me feel this way. His fingers danced decisively across my sensitive mound, manipulating, grinding, performing calculated circles that had me arching into his skillful palms. "Griff please," I moaned, my body doing a peculiar need-to-be-exorcised jerk beneath him.

  "Please what?" he questioned, his voice loud and demanding, filling the small room.

  "I want you…in-inside of me," I managed, panting like I'd run a marathon.

  "Oh, you're going to get me," he growled, leaning forward so that his head rested beside my ear. To further prove his point, he ground his hips forward, his erection slid across my wet center, teasing me through the rough fabric. "But not before I know you're ready for me. I want you begging for it."

  Funny, because I thought I already was.

  The elastic that held my bathing suit tied around my neck snapped open, my breasts falling in response to the freedom that they'd just been given. "Off," he demanded.

  "What?" I questioned, confusion and lust mixing together to create the muddled mess that currently was my brain.

  "All of it," he demanded. He stood slowly, his body hovering at the side of the bed watching, waiting.

  Pulling the cover-up over my head in one fell swoop, my hands set about untying the bathing suit from behind my back. Griff's lustful growl had my hands shaking so badly I found it difficult to perform the miniscule task.

  "Here, let me," he mumbled, his face directly in front of mine.

  Our eyes never lost connection as his hand pushed mine out of the way, undoing what I'd been trying to with the expertise of someone who'd unhooked more than his fair share of bras over the years. Electricity crackled between us, the kinetic force that forever lurked in the background stepping out of the shadows. I reached out to touch his face, needing the contact to steer my mind away from the headiness of the moment. He snatched his head backwards out of my reach just prior to making skin-to-skin contact.

  "Lie back," he instructed, the huskiness of his voice matching the look in his eyes. His tongue ran across his lips, drawing my attention there. "I want to see you."

  "Griff-"

  "Just do it, Kennedy," he bellowed.

  His voice told me everything that I needed to know: he was in a lustful, messy state and he had no intentions of being defied. I did as I was told, pinning my back onto the bed and spreading my legs wide to him. I had to fight back urges to cover myself, the exposure bringing on insecurities that I hadn't known existed.

  "Touch yourself."

  "Griff-"

  "Do it," he growled.

  Running my hands hesitantly down my abdomen, I paused just shy of what he'd requested. He shifted uncomfortably in his jeans, his eyes glued to my center. I held his lust in my hand, the thought provoking an unbridled, powerful feeling that snuffed out any of my previous fears. Dipping my fingers low, I outlined every part of me, making sure that I came close but never touched.

  "Kennedy," he mumbled. He brought a hand to the front of his jeans, his fingers curling around his erection.

  I took his plea as my cue to proceed, parting myself, seeking my sensitive bud with my fingers. They found their destination with little hesitation, my fingers no stranger to the current terrain, circling gently before applying pressure. I gasped, unaware of just how close he had brought me and my body's ability to pick up exactly where we had left off. Convincing myself that I needed to forge onward, I settled into a subtle rhythm, seeking to give him what he wanted while keeping my dogged orgasm at bay. Lost in myself and laser beam focused on not giving in to the free fall, I didn't feel him crawl onto the bed until he spoke.

  "Open your eyes, Kennedy," he mumbled.

  My eyes snapped open, surprised by his closeness. His hips thrust instinctively forward, the tip of him sliding slowly over my wet folds, creating a slippery path for the base of his member to traverse. Sometime during my break from reality, he'd removed his clothing and released the lustful beast.

  "I wanted to see you," I admitted, trying but failing to hide my disappointment.

  I jolted beneath him, my frustrations hitting a brick wall as he dipped the head of his penis inside, the action serving to add lubrication as he slid across me again from tip to base and then back again.

  "You will. I promise," he mumbled, his lips closing down over my earlobe. "But you're ready," he said softly, tilting his head back to look me in the eyes. My heart hammered loudly in my ears. "And so am I. So damned ready," he muttered as an afterthought.

  I nodded, not certain that he had caught the action, the amount of wetness between my thighs the only green light that he needed. He pulled his hips back, aligning himself at my center. There was a subtle pause, enough hesitation from him that sent my body arching desperately up to meet his. I wanted him inside of me, needed to feel him like I needed oxygen. A sense of urgency welled up inside of me. I released a whimper beyond my consent, my hips rising up towards him again, shamefully begging him.

  "Say it," he said, his voice right beside my ear.

  "Say w-what?" I stammered.

  "Beg me." He grabbed the hair close to my scalp, tilting my head backwards. "Beg me for it," he urged, his voice rising as his tongue feasted on the skin of my neck.

  "Griff-"

  "Dammit, Kennedy," he said, his palm slapping the bed beside me. We both jerked as a result of the action, the tip of him touching my folds with each bounce.

  "Please, Griff," I said, finally able to string syllables together. "Please," I repeated, grabbing at his backside to try and force him inside. He partially indulged me, pushing himself deeper to give me a taste, a tease. "Please, oh God, please," I mumbled, my body a liquidy pool of lust and longing.

  "You want all of me?"

  "Yes, I can't-I don't….Just…please," I managed, feeling on the verge of tears.

  He thrust his hips forward, filling me until I thought I couldn't take it anymore. I gasped, the size of him taking me by surprise.

  "You okay?" He shifted concerned eyes to mine, momentarily halting forward progress.

  Good Lord, I wasn't a stranger to sex, but he seemed abnormally large. "Yes, I'm fine," I lied, my fingers pressing into his shoulders in an effort to defer the pain.

  He sensed my discomfort, or read into my lie, taking necessary precautions as he eased himself inside of me with a gentleness that I could barely process. He rocked himself gently inside of me - side to side, up and down - taking his time until I grew accustomed to his girth. He probed my depths, molding me, stretching me into a glove made specifically for him. My mind began to process the movements as pleasure, not pain. I wiggled beneath him, my fingertips creating semi-circles across the skin on his back.

  "Please," I whispered again, begging for things I couldn't ascertain. I wanted him. All of him - moving inside of me, turning me out…Making me his.

  He pulled himself out of me, creating a vacancy in his wake, a hollowness that left me feeling weak, not whole. Only when he plunged feverishly inside of me, did I feel complete again, his fullness creating another stab of pain that turned quickly to pleasure.

  "God, you're so tight," he mumbled into my hair.

  He grasped the comforter on either side of my head for leverage, his hips pulling backwards and thrusting forward again. With each thrust, he ground his pelvis across my throbbing bud, pushing me closer to the edge. I felt myself opening up, the familiar pull of chaos beginning in my abdomen. My legs wound around his waist as I worked to push him inside of me. I couldn't get enough of him and the closer that I inched towards orgasm, the higher my sense of urgency.

  "I'm close, Kennedy," he warned apologetically as he drove himself inside of me again.

  I tried working my mouth to refute his apology, but sputtered his name instead as my walls began to contract over him. My arms laced around his neck, pulling him close for stability. I worked to catch my breath, to process the orgasm that was shaking my foundation. His body tensed beneath my fingers, his shoulders tightening as he pulled himself from me. He pushed his hips forward, rolling his member across my stomach, finding his own release.

  The silence floated around us, creating a comfortable blanket that allowed us ample time to process the intense moment that we'd both shared, a moment that had shaken me to my core.

  He pulled his face back to look at me, his eyes conveying the heat of the moment. "That was-" he began, running his thumbs over my cheeks.

  "Incredible."

  He released a soft chuckle. "Yeah, that's one way to describe it." He leaned forward, capturing my lips with his own, our tongues performing a delectable dance. "Next time, I'll be sure to be more careful."

  "Wha-Oh." I realized his meaning as he rolled off of me, the mess he'd made coating both of our abdomens. I blushed, comprehending the extent of our carelessness. I'd never been so reckless, never been so caught up in the moment that I'd forgotten my 'safety first' motto.

  Making his way over to a dresser, he pulled an item of clothing from its depths before returning to my side. He cleaned us both before discarding it onto the adjacent nightstand. Surprising me, he reached between my legs, dipping a finger inside. "Knowing that that's for me…" he began, trailing off as he closed his eyes and allowed me to fill in the blanks. "Next time, it won't happen so quickly. I promise."

  I winced as his finger skimmed over a sore spot.

  His eyes narrowed, concerned. "Did I hurt you?" he questioned, pulling his fingers out of me quickly.

  "No," I responded. "Only at first, but afterwards…"

  He pulled me into his chest, readjusting our bodies so that we fit comfortably across the twin sized bed. "You don't know how hard it was for me not to split you in two. I wanted you that badly."

  I lifted my face to his with the urging of his finger beneath my chin. "I'm glad you didn't," I mumbled, still wrapped up in the hangover of my orgasm. "Because I'd like to do it again…very soon."

  "Don't you worry," he reassured me, "there's absolutely no way that I'm going to be able to keep my hands off of you."

  "Don’t you want to talk?" I questioned, the awkward moments after the first time nudging me gently. "I mean, discuss Mick," I added.

  He shot me a heated look, his body tensing. "What about him?"

  "Well, what we're going to do about him. The public thinks we're engaged. He pretends to be interested. I've tried telling him that I'm not reciprocating, but he's…" I trailed off, my brain searching for the right word.

  His body relaxed, the subject matter seemingly passing inspection.

  "Persistent?" His fingers skimmed over the skin of my back in circular patterns, creating chill bumps.

  "Yes, very."

  "I'll handle him. Don't worry about it. You've got enough on your plate," he said softly, his pattern drawing becoming disjointed. I could tell he was getting tired.

  "Griff?"

  "Hmm?"

  "I'm afraid," I admitted.

  "Don't be," he mumbled. "You're not alone anymore. We'll get through this together."

  Not alone anymore. Together. I was no longer a stray. I had been chosen, claimed, because someone had wanted me. The thought gave me a peace that I couldn't remember ever having before. Not since Mom had died and flipped my world upside down.

  I drifted to sleep in the crook of his arm, an easy thing to do when you felt you belonged.

  *****

  I awoke the next morning, my backside spooned up against Griff's front with his hand between my thighs. His erection pressed hungrily into my back, his fingers already plunged deeply into my center, arousing me, readying me for him. Casually, I draped my leg over his, opening up for him.

  His erection left my back, sliding in between my legs, creating a desperate friction between us. He slid himself back and forth against my entrance, his fingers continuing their delicious assault across my clitoris.

  "Griff," I mumbled, sleepiness leaving me more quickly than usual. My hips bucked backwards mechanically, my backside shifting to a position that would allow him better access. "Please," I said, playing the beggar once more.

  I could feel his smirk beside my ear. "I like it when you beg for it," he mumbled.

  He placed a kiss on the side of my neck as he slid inside of me completely, filling me to the brim. A gasp slipped past my lips, my body recognizing the familiar pleasurable pain. I could feel the rubber barrier between us. I didn't like the feeling, but was appreciative that he'd been both prepared and headstrong enough to fulfill his promise.

  He worked himself in and out of me, taking his time with each thrust. He was a tease, something that I fully intended on punishing him for later on - if I could ever get past wanting him so badly that I couldn't think straight. He craned my neck backwards, kissing me as his free hand palmed my breast. The onslaught of sensations was almost too much to bear. My hips thrust farther backwards, my body contorting into a position that I hadn't thought capable.

  I released myself from his grasp, doubling forward instead. He caught the hint, grasping my hips possessively with his hands as he ground himself in and out of me with a wonderfully viscous rhythm. My muscles contracted moments later, my body shuddering around him. I choked out the Lords name in vain, trying to maintain an emotional balance. I considered it a fail when he reached his climax shortly after, thrusting forcefully inside me and producing a lingering spasm.

  "That's better than coffee," I managed, still trying to catch my breath.

  "I told you that I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off of you," he said, flipping me over. I watched as he freed himself of the condom, tying the end of it before depositing it next to the article of clothing that he'd used the night prior.

  I got my first good look at the thing that had caused me so much pleasure, my eyes unable to hide their surprise, instead bulging unattractively in their sockets. No wonder he'd hurt me.

  "Like what you see?" he questioned, humor hugging the outskirts of his irises.

  "No wonder Felicia was so angry," I said, attempting humor, but not appreciating the jealous tug that my stomach did in response. I'd kill for his penis, I realized. Not a comforting thought so early in the morning.

  "You really want to go there?"

  "No," I responded, swallowing an envious lump. Apparently there wasn't a single part of my body that appreciated the thought of this man with anyone else besides me. Shit. "Definitely not," I added.

  "If it makes you feel any better, I've already decided on five different ways to torture, torment and kill any man who attempts to get anywhere near what I now consider mine."

  My insides squeezed with a devilish excitement. It did make me feel better - a lot better. So much so, I decided to tell him. "It does. I've got a feeling that you won't have to worry about that, Mr. Callahan. No time soon."

  "No time soon?" he questioned angrily, flipping me over until his entire body weighed down on top of mine.

  "I-" I began confused before realizing my misstep. "I didn't mean it like it sounded…"