“Fine,” he said.
Then, he grabbed me around the waist, yanked me outside, and dropped his mouth down onto mine hungrily. I lost myself in his lips. His hands ducked under my sweater, and his fingers dug into my soft flesh beneath. And without even realizing it, I was grasping his T-shirt for dear life and feeling the cold metal of his dog tags in my hands.
Holy shit! I’d never been kissed like this before. My whole body was on fire, and his lips were just fueling the flame. Burning desire snaked through me, starting in my fingertips, scorching through my chest, and settling in my core.
Grant walked me backward into my apartment and slammed the door shut. My back hit the wall, but our lips never broke apart. His hands ventured up my shirt, and I stopped breathing as he trailed his fingers lightly along my ribs. He skimmed the underside of my breast, and a groan escaped my lips. I squirmed against him, wanting what he was offering and silently freaking the f**k out.
“Grant,” I groaned.
His mouth left mine, and he started kissing down my neck. My chest rose and fell heavily.
“Yeah, darlin’?”
“Darlin’?” I repeated mockingly.
He pulled back and stared down into my eyes. “Princess, Aribel, Ari, whatever you want me to call you.”
Bending slightly, he seized the backs of my thighs and hoisted them around his waist. I gasped out and instinctively wrapped my arms around his neck.
“What are you doing?” I cried in shock.
He started walking toward the living room without answering me.
“Grant, put me down!”
Once we were standing over the couch, he lowered me onto it and covered my body with his.
Oh my God, he is rock solid. I could feel every inch of him as he lay there on top of me. He wasn’t overly built, but he was all lean muscle, and the way his body was moving against mine was making me forget sense.
His lips found mine again, and then I felt his erection slide up against the thin material of my yoga pants. My mind immediately started firing on all cylinders again, and I knew exactly what he’d wanted when he laid me down on the couch.
“Grant, stop!” I said, pushing at his chest.
Holy shit! How had I let myself get this carried away? I never got carried away. His kisses had done things to me that I didn’t understand. I’d completely lost myself…and I’d liked it. But as much as I’d liked it, I couldn’t let it continue.
My breathing was ragged as I tried to get myself under control. His body still covered mine, and I was sure he knew exactly what he had done to me.
He groaned and pulled back to stare at me with his pleading brown eyes. His body was still aligned with mine, and when I shifted, he gripped my hip tighter in his hand.
“Oh, come on. You want me.”
I shook my head and swallowed. I didn’t want this even if I had gotten lost in his lips.
“You seriously want me to stop after you kissed me like that?”
At least I knew it had affected him, too. Actually, as I shifted out from under him to sit up, that became very clear. “I didn’t kiss you like anything.”
“Bullshit!”
“Well, are you happy? You got what you wanted.”
“I got a tenth of what I wanted, princess.”
“A tenth is all you’re going to get. Now, you should probably go,” I told him.
“Go?” His eyebrows shot up. “You’re kicking me out after I just got permission to enter?”
“I didn’t give you permission.”
His hand ran down my jawline. “How many other people do you kiss like that when they ask to come inside?”
I swatted his hand away. “What are you really doing here, Grant? Besides the other nine-tenths that you want.”
“I thought you would be at the show.”
“I bet plenty of other girls were at the show, offering a lot more, that you didn’t have to drive home to see.”
“Would you prefer I was with them?” he asked.
He was waiting for me to contradict him, but that smile on his face held my tongue.
“You answer my questions with questions a lot.”
Grant shrugged and glanced away. “Do you really want to know? I haven’t even told the guys yet.”
I hadn’t expected him to actually answer when I asked him the question, but he wasn’t advancing on me at this point, so that was a positive.
I might as well keep him talking. “Sure.”
“We had a scout for a label come to the show tonight.”
“That’s good, right?” I asked uncertainly.
He didn’t look like it had been a good thing.
He scoffed. “It should have been. Fucking prick.”
I fiddled with my fingernails and tucked my legs up underneath me. “Did the scout not like your band?”
“He liked me,” he said plainly.
He was fuming and trying desperately not to show it. I wondered how often he talked to people about the shit in his life because he seemed incredibly uncomfortable with it. I couldn’t blame him though. It wasn’t like I was particularly forthright about my own life.
“I’m not following.”
He jumped out of his seat and stomped angrily across the room. He pushed the sleeves of his shirt up, and the muscles in his arms bulged. I noticed a tattoo peeking out of his shirt on his bicep, but I couldn’t really see what it was.
“They wanted me but not the band. They offered to sign me if I left ContraBand.”
It sounded like a pretty shitty deal if he was that invested in the band, but maybe he just wanted to be famous. Looking at his scowling face, I couldn’t see that being the case.
“I’m guessing you didn’t do it?”
“Do I look like a f**king sellout to you?”
I glared at him. “Don’t yell at me! I was just asking. You’re the one telling me about your shitty night. I don’t have to listen!”
“Fine. I didn’t mean to blow up. I’m just…I’m not a f**king sellout.”
“I never said you were. I just thought you might want this as a career, and someone offered it to you, so it makes sense that you might have taken it. I guess I was wrong.” I crossed my arms and gritted my teeth.
I had asked him one simple question, and he didn’t have to be such an ass about it.
“As long as I have my guitar, I’m f**king solid.” He mirrored me and crossed his arms. “The band isn’t just a band. Those guys are my brothers. It would be like getting rid of family, and I’m not f**king doing that.”