Friction(56)
“But at least you’ve gotten more interest because he ordered the table.”
The only new interest we’ve gotten from B’s group is that prick Andrew’s pathetic attempt to get close to Lucy. He came by the workshop a couple of days ago, claiming he wanted to discuss custom manacles. Even Daisy saw right through the fa?ade, pointing out that he was obviously more interested in what my marketing director looked like without her black dress on than monogrammed cuffs.
Telling Andrew that our schedule is booked out until May gave me a sickening amount of pleasure, especially because as I grinned at him, I knew exactly what was hiding beneath Lucy Williams’s clothes. I know every curve, every freckle, and every mark on her lush body—from the lime green ribbon tattooed on her shoulder blade to the scar on the inside of her left ankle—and all he got was a business card and a dismissive smile.
“Right, well, I doubt Andrew’ll be ordering anytime soon,” I finally inform her. Not without getting a taste of you, and that’s never going to fucking happen.
“His loss.”
I back away from her slowly, laughing because her eyes zero in on my cock and widen. I wink just before grabbing my boxer briefs and jeans from the floor. After I’m partially dressed and my boots are on, I motion toward the doorway. “Come on. I’ll walk you to your car before I change my mind and find a way to get you out of those clothes again.”
Resting my hand on the base of her spine as we leave the room, I’m about to drive her crazy by telling her what that little pulse she does with her cunt does to me, but I pause when the sound of machinery greets us. I whirl away from her, stunned to see Griff’s gaze when he lifts his faceguard.
Christ, this isn’t going to be good.
Griff turns the machine off, and the noise Lucy’s making tears at my chest. She’s whimpering, like a wounded animal, and I know this is the last thing she wanted to happen. I scrub my hand over my face and release low curse as I take a step toward Griff. “What the fuck are you looking at?” I demand, and his grin deepens.
“Nothing. Nothing at all.” He shakes his head slowly, turning his body until he’s staring right at Lucy. From the frantic movement of her lips, I swear she’s praying for the floor to open up and swallow her. I’m wanting the same thing, but to Griff. “Shark,” he acknowledges her, and she straightens her spine.
“Good morning, Griffin,” she squeaks in a small voice, turning her face from his.
“You didn’t say anything about coming in so early,” I growl because the sun hasn’t even come up yet. If Griff had mentioned he planned to work early, I would have taken Lucy back to my place. I would’ve broken another one of my rules—fucking someone in my bed—just so she wouldn’t have to be humiliated.
He leans against the workshop table and tilts his head to one side, sizing up the sight of Lucy in rumpled clothes and me without a shirt. “Didn’t think I had to.”
Lucy releases a broken breath loud enough for only me to hear. When she looks up at me with pleading eyes, I step between them, shielding her from his view. “He’s not going to say anything, is he?” she asks weakly.
“Fuck no,” I promise. “I’ll make sure of it.” As I warn Griff what will happen to his job and his kneecaps if he smears her name all over the office, she creeps off toward the exit. She’s almost at the blue door that’ll lead her out to her Jeep when he loudly clears his throat.
“It’s seven, Shark,” Griff announces and she clenches the doorknob, banging her forehead against the cool metal surface. Fuck, I hate seeing her this upset, and I hate it even more because this all came to pass because I needed more of her. “You might as well just shower here and stick around now.”
She looks over her shoulder, her hazel eyes darting from Griff to me until I finally lift my shoulders. “He’s got a point, love.”
Casting a dark glare at him, she turns in the opposite direction of the workshop door and stalks toward the restroom at the back of the building. “If you say anything—” she starts tremulously. While I listen to her threaten to follow through on the promise she made him and Ash before my interview with Allene—and I’ve got every intention of asking what that threat was—I realize something that kicks me right in my stomach.
I wouldn’t mind it if anyone knew about Lucy Williams and I.
Not one fucking bit.
Twenty-One
Lucy
It doesn’t take me long to discover that despite his constant teasing, Griff is surprisingly good at keeping things to himself. While I expected everyone in the building to know that Lucy in Marketing is banging Mr. Extreme by the end of the day, nobody on the team approaches me. Even Griff himself doesn’t mention what he walked in on, and I’m grateful for that because I have enough keeping me up at night. Like the fact that my boss and I have slipped into something that’s just casual—something that’s bound to burn and break me if I can’t keep my emotions in check.
I’ve never had a fuck buddy before—all my past partners were so much more—and every time I feel a wiggle of guilt after Jace and I have torn each other apart, I surprise myself with my next thoughts: This thing with him is the most satisfying feeling I’ve ever experienced.