Drive Me Wild - Melanie Harlow Page 0,76

over her head. Then she fell back again, taking me with her.

We kissed and groped and clung and rolled around in twisted sheets, skin to skin, flirting with recklessness. In the back of my head I knew I should stop and get protection, but I couldn’t find my voice. Just for a minute, I kept telling myself. I just want to feel her like this for one more minute, and then I’ll stop.

But I didn’t stop.

I put the tip of my cock inside her, and she moaned. “More,” she pleaded.

I gave her one more inch, both of us groaning in agonizing bliss. Her hands were on my back, inching lower. “Don’t stop,” she breathed, tilting her hips to take more of me.

Clinging to a rapidly fraying rope of self-control, I allowed myself a few playfully shallow strokes. But it was way too good—and then she was grabbing my ass and pulling me in deeper, crying out in frustrated need. Before I knew it I was all the way inside her, driving hard and fast and deep with nothing between us.

And I didn’t care. In that moment, I didn’t know fear or caution. I didn’t care about rules or consequences. I didn’t think about the past or the future or anything except this moment, this feeling, this woman, this relentless need for more, more, more.

She gripped me tightly and matched my rhythm with her own, our bodies rocking against each other, our skin slick with sweat. We raced toward climax together, spiraling higher and higher until we collided in the sky and burst into flames, then clung to each other as the embers drifted back to earth.

A slow, dizzying, inevitable fall.

After which I hit the ground with a hard, rude thump.

“Oh, fuck.” I pulled out, as if the risk hadn’t already been taken. “Fuck. We shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s—it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. You told me the other night it wasn’t safe, and I—”

“The timing isn’t as dangerous tonight. In my cycle, I mean. I think it’s fine.”

“You think?” I knew shit about timing and cycles, but her tone was not convincing, and the thought of an accidental pregnancy was scary as hell. “You can’t get pregnant, Blair. It would be a fucking disaster.”

“Griffin,” she said, obviously hurt.

Angry with myself, I got out of bed and went into the bathroom, pulling the door shut behind me a little harder than necessary. I was being a dickhead and I knew it, but she had me all disoriented and confused. I felt like I didn’t know which way was up. I had no rules left to break.

What the fuck was the matter with me?

I cleaned up and came out of the bathroom still unsure of what to say. Right away she got out of bed and went into the bathroom, without even looking at me. She shut the door with less force than I had, but with enough to make it obvious she was upset.

I didn’t blame her.

Lowering myself onto the edge of the bed, I hung my head. I had majorly fucked up. I’d gotten myself into a place I couldn’t get out of without hurting someone who didn’t deserve it.

She came out of the bathroom and went over to her suitcase. The bedroom light was off, but the hall light was still on, and I watched her pull on underwear and her Snoopy T-shirt.

“What are you doing?” I asked. She’d been sleeping naked every night—we both had.

“Nothing.”

“Come here.”

She closed her suitcase and came over to the bed, tentatively sitting on the edge a good three feet from me, her arms crossed over her chest, her knees pressed together. She stared straight ahead.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I was a jerk about what just happened. It wasn’t your fault.”

She didn’t say anything, and I found myself groping for more words. I felt like I owed her a better explanation, and there was one, but it terrified me to think about unlocking that particular vault. Tearing down that particular wall. But I heard myself say it a moment later.

“She was pregnant.”

Blair looked at me. “What?”

“My ex, Kayla. She got pregnant right before I left for my final deployment. But I didn’t know until I was already gone.”

Silence. “Oh.”

“I was terrified, but fear was something a guy like me couldn’t admit. Couldn’t talk about. I’d grown up believing a man should be tough. I’d joined the Marines because they were the most badass. I’d been trained to be a killer ruled by self-discipline, and I was