Making Up (Shacking Up 4)

“It’s an alluring offer, but I don’t want the distraction. I like my focus right where it is.”

My eyes roll up at the next grazing of his knuckles, still over my damn panties. I went out and bought new ones for this date, which isn’t something I typically do. They’re white satin with lace accents—definitely not my usual, but they seemed fitting considering my potential plan for tonight. “This would probably work a lot better if there was some skin-to-skin contact.”

“Probably, but I bet I can make you come just like this.”

It’s pretty hard to argue with the way everything is tightening below the waist. That familiar warm feeling drags through my limbs, weighing me down and making me feel like I’m floating at the same time. A spiral of sensation unfurls low in my belly, expanding outward, a slow storm gaining momentum. I roll my hips, no longer worried about the direct contact I want but am not going to get for whatever reason. Instead, I chase down the storm and let it slam into me.

Griffin’s mouth covers mine when I groan, because he’s right, he can make me come without direct skin-to-skin contact. Which is freaking magical and totally unexpected. I’m right in the middle of the craziest, most public orgasm I’ve ever had, desperately trying not to make any noise because who knows how far away the pilot is, when Griffin tears his mouth from mine. And suddenly the pressure between my thighs disappears.

I make this horrible, loud, whiny sound and claw at the back of his neck, half delirious because I’m still coming and now there’s nothing to rub up on. I’m about to protest the lack of fairness, especially when Griffin releases the crotch of my shorts, but he pushes my panties to the side and grazes my clit with his thumb. It’s featherlight, the barest of touches. It definitely shouldn’t be enough to carry the orgasm through, but somehow it does.

Another wave of sensation hits, slamming into me with a force that in no way matches how Griffin is touching me. Those barely there caresses between my thighs are responsible for the best orgasm I’ve ever had at the hands of someone other than myself.

It also doesn’t hurt that Griffin is damn well stunning as he stands between my legs, eyes locked on my face and not where he’s touching me, looking intense and ridiculously satisfied despite the fact that I’m the one who’s had an orgasm. In the Grand Canyon.

It wasn’t a bucket-list item, but it’s definitely one I can tick off now that it’s happened.

Griffin carefully shifts my panties back into place and brings his thumb to his lips. He licks the pad with a smile. “How was that for memorable?”

I laugh, embarrassed and still totally turned on. “Very.” I retract my nails from his neck. “The Grand Canyon will forever be synonymous with Griffin and orgasms.”

“Good.” Griffin leans in to kiss me, and I taste my desire on his tongue. It’s weirdly hot.

Sadly, he pulls back after a few seconds and holds out a hand. “Come on, let’s explore more than my ability to make you come before Vern gets back.”

My cheeks heat, and he smirks. But I allow him to lace our fingers. I’m still orgasm woozy, although I think the effects of the champagne have mostly worn off. We walk along a short trail that ends at a cliff with a stunning view. We’re fairly deep in the canyon, but the drop is still steep, so I crowd Griffin’s space and crane to look over the edge.

“This is pretty incredible, isn’t it?” I murmur.

“It really is. I didn’t think I’d be this impressed, but maybe the company has an impact on that.”

“You’ve never been in the Grand Canyon before?” I’m surprised to hear that since he’s been so many places.

“Nope. This is a first. I’m sure you’ve been down here a million times, huh?”

I tip my head up, adjusting my sunglasses down so the sun isn’t blinding me. “Actually, this is my first time too.”

He gives me a curious smile. “You grew up here, and you’ve never visited the Grand Canyon?”

“It’s touristy and I’m a local. I didn’t see the point in spending money on something that was in my backyard, if that makes sense.”

“I can understand that. I’ve lived in New York City my entire life, and I’ve never been to the top of the Empire State Building.”

“I’m not sure it’s quite as impressive as this.”

Griffin glances at the walls of rock towering above us. “Not really, no. But if someone told me I’d find you at the top, I might’ve had more incentive to visit that particular tourist attraction.” He tugs my hand and leads me over to a shady spot.

Griffin pulls me down to sit between his legs. His lips brush along my neck when he asks, “What’s your favorite place you’ve ever been to?”