Almost Married

“We’ll be there,” Steph said.

Dave smiled widely at Griff.

Griff frowned, turned, and left.

Steph locked the door behind him. She turned to Dave. “Whose am I?” she asked with glee.

He was on her in a flash, his body pressing her against the wall. “You are my worst student ever.” He held her gaze as he pulled back just enough to undo his jeans. She heard the rasp of the zipper and went damp. “I have to keep teaching you the same lesson over and over.”

And then he lifted her and thrust inside.

“You’re a good teacher,” she gasped out as she wrapped her legs around him.

But her remark was lost in his constant chant of mine, mine, mine as he pounded into her.

~ ~ ~

The jet hummed as it soared through the sky. Steph squirmed as the three of them sat in awkward silence. She and Dave sat side by side on a white sofa on one side of the jet. Griff sat on an identical sofa across from them.

Griff scowled.

Dave smiled.

Dave’s hand rested possessively on her upper thigh, occasionally stroking her, his fingers grazing scandalously high on her inner thigh. It was making her crazed, but she didn’t protest. She needed Griff to get the message. They were done. Sign the damn papers.

Griff ground his teeth and finally broke the silence. “So…wanna drink? I’ve got a full bar.”

Dave’s fingers stroked inward, then up and down, up and down. She felt herself flush.

“We’re good,” Dave said, answering for both of them. “But thanks.”

Griff stood abruptly. He returned a moment later with what looked like whiskey.

“Play a lot of concerts?” Dave asked.

“Tons,” Griff replied flatly.

Another awkward silence fell. Dave stroked her leg again, sliding inward, up and down, up and down. Griff finished the whiskey in one long swallow.

“How’s your opener?” Steph asked.

“They’re good,” Griff said. His eyes lingered on Dave’s hand, which now gripped her inner thigh.

Dave’s other hand was hidden from view, but it was sliding down her ass and then cupping her from underneath. Given half the chance, he’d lift her and drop her into a straddle right on top of him. She knew because he’d done that move plenty of times in exactly this position, one hand on her inner thigh, one on her ass. She figured it was no coincidence he was holding her like this. He was reminding her.

She tried to keep her breathing steady as she casually leaned back on Dave’s arm to make him stop the wicked things his hand was doing, as his fingers now pressed on her insistently from underneath. He didn’t take the hint.

“I picked the opener myself,” Griff said. “Soul Cavity. They’re like punk on speed.”

Dave smiled, more like a baring of teeth. “Tell him about your tattoo, honey. It says Dave’s. Right across her—”

“Dave!” Steph exclaimed.

“Oh, yeah?” Griff took off his leather jacket and rolled up the sleeve of his black T-shirt. He thrust his bicep forward. “See what that says.”

Dave squinted at the Steph tattoo. “It says I’m a chump.”

Griff leaped up. So did Dave. Steph jumped between them. “You guys promised me no fighting!” She glared at Dave. “You promised.”

Dave sat down. Griff reluctantly sat down again.

“Now nobody is getting tattoos of any kind,” she said in her best teacher voice. “No more fighting.” She narrowed her eyes and took them both in with one icy glare. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal,” Griff said. He went back to the bar at the back of the jet to get another drink.

Dave palmed her ass. “Mine,” he said fiercely.

She whirled around. “Dave,” she whispered, torn between turned-on and exasperated. “Not now.”

He pulled her down onto his lap and kissed her hot and deep until all her exasperation with him fled. He pushed her hair out of the way and nibbled along her neck. Griff rushed past them on his way to the front of the jet, where four chairs centered around a small table. He slammed his drink down on the table and flopped down into a seat, giving them his back.

“I think he’s mad,” Dave said with a devious smile before he resumed nuzzling her neck.