Desire in Lingerie (Lingerie 7)

“Griffin.”

“I don’t give a shit about him.” He downed the glass in one gulp before he slammed it back on the counter. “I don’t give a shit how much he wants you. I don’t give a shit how much he wants to fuck you. If I take you anywhere in public, every man we pass thinks the same thing anyway.”

Perhaps Bones deserved more credit than I’d given him. He didn’t have the same kind of jealousy that I harbored. “Then why do you seem so angry?”

“Because I’m going to ask you to do something, and I don’t think you’re going to do it.”

“What is it?”

He gripped the counter, his thick arms stretching the sleeves of his t-shirt. “I want him to know you’re seeing me again.”

He was right; that would present a problem. “He might tell my family.”

“I know. But you’re going to do it anyway.”

“But that’s a risk we can’t take. If my mother knows you’re in the picture again, she won’t stop until she knows more about you. It’ll get the rest of my family involved, and then we’ll have a serious problem on our hands. The only way this relationship works is if it’s a secret.”

“I can’t stand by and let this boy think he has a chance with you.”

“He’s not a boy. He’s a very nice man.”

His eyes narrowed. “Why are you defending him?”

“Because he’s never pressured me to do anything. I took him back to my apartment so we could sleep together, and when I said it wasn’t going to happen, he was a perfect gentleman about it. He didn’t try to kiss me or even hug me. He’s a family friend, and I can tell he’s a good guy.”

“I don’t give a shit how nice you think he is. He’s a boy—I’m a man. I’m your man.”

“I’m not denying that last part.”

“Tell him, or I’ll tell him.”

I stared him down. “I already told you that can’t happen. Maybe if I spend more time with him and we get closer, I can start to trust him. But eventually, people might ask questions, and he could cave. Do you really want to risk that?”

He stared at me with the same coldness.

“I can tell him I’m not interested in a romantic relationship—ever. I can tell him we’ll only be friends. That’s more than enough.”

“I don’t think so. You could say the same thing to me, but that doesn’t mean I’ll believe you.”

“Well, I don’t see any other option.”

He grabbed the bottle and poured another glass.

“You’ve had enough,” I warned.

His eyes narrowed coldly before he picked up his glass and downed it.

I shook my head slightly as I felt my temper start to rise.

“You can get drunk and walk home alone, but I can’t drink in my own damn house?”

“You can drink—just not that much.”

“No such thing as too much,” he said with a growl. “I’m drunk all the time, and you never notice.”

“Well, you’re about to be more than just drunk. Now, knock it off. I don’t like talking to you when you’re like this.”

“Ironic. I don’t like talking to you at all sometimes.”

I raised one eyebrow, my eyes burning with rage. “See? You have drunk too much.”

“Just tell him, and this conversation is over.”

“I’m not going to tell him. But I have another idea.”

“Because you’re always full of such great ideas…” He left his empty glass on the counter and didn’t move to refill it. He brushed off my words like they were stupid, but he obviously listened to me…sometimes.

“I just won’t see him.”

Bones’s reaction didn’t change, but he didn’t shut it down either.

“If he asks to do something, I’ll tell him I’m busy. That way, the only way I might possibly see him is at some family function, and even that is pretty unlikely. I’d never met him in person up until this point, so the odds are pretty good.”

He was quiet.

“I think that’s a fair compromise. You aren’t going to get a better one.”

He finally returned the bottle to the cabinet then walked across the living room and to the hallway. He headed to our bedroom, dismissing the conversation like it wasn’t worth having anymore.

I guess that was over.

I followed behind him and entered the master bedroom that I’d come to see as my own bedroom. Everything was decorated in masculine tones and with heavy wood, accompanying his outdoorsy persona. He opened the top drawer of his nightstand and pulled out a thin piece of blue fabric. It was a soft blue, like the color of the sky. It was a lacy dress that was practically see-through, having no support upstairs and barely enough fabric to actually cover my nipples.

He set it on the bed. “Put this on.” He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it into the hamper before he walked into the bathroom and shut the door. The faucet turned on a moment later, and I knew he was brushing his teeth and getting ready for bed while I put on the sex clothes he’d picked out for me.