Written in Ink (Montgomery Ink #4)(42)

She mirrored the movement, cupping one breast and imagining it was his hand. He would then slide his hand back down and play with her clit, rolling over it slowly before pinching and rubbing. He’d pump two fingers inside her fast and hard until they were both panting and the wet sounds of the shower and her cunt would fill the air. She fingered herself, thinking only of Griffin and his hands. The warm water slid over her clit and she gulped in air, trying to breathe.

Griffin would lean down and bite her neck before whispering one word. “Fall.”

And she fell.

Not literally, thank God, but she came. Hard.

Her knees shook and she had to slowly lower herself to the shower floor so she could catch her breath. Getting herself off in the shower was dangerous business, and it would have been better with Griffin, but with his cast…well…that wasn’t the only reason he wasn’t in the shower with her.

Distance would do both of them good. She couldn’t fall for her boss, the brother of her friends. She couldn’t fall for a man she would be forced to leave when she had to.

With that pleasant thought, she stood up again and cleaned herself off, the water long since gone cold. She shivered again, this time not in the good way, toweled herself off once she finished, and dressed quickly. She put her hair in a braid and called it a day. It was too cold out for her to go outside with a wet head, so she put on a knit cap. She didn’t have the money to pay for that much electricity when it came to a blow dryer. Thankfully, water came with the rent, or that little escapade with dream Griffin would have been costly.

She quickly piled on the layers, slid her bag over her shoulders and opened the front door only to come to a stop.

Her hands shook, but she did her best not to scream.

A dead bird, a crow or raven from the looks of it, lay on her front porch. There wasn’t any blood, but it looked as if it had broken its neck…or had its neck broken. There were many reasonable explanations for this. The bird could have flown into her door and died. Another animal could have killed it elsewhere and dropped it on her porch, leaving no blood.

Or he could have found her.

She gripped her bag tighter and moved to the porch, her gaze on her surroundings. She didn’t feel him out there, didn’t see him, but that didn’t mean anything. She hadn’t felt him all the other times either…not until it was too late.

Chills spread down her arms and she locked the door behind her before walking quickly to her car. She would not run. He liked it when she ran.

She would go back and bury the bird when she had time. The poor thing deserved at least that much. But she couldn’t do it now, not when he could still be there. Not when she couldn’t breathe right.

Autumn started the car and headed toward Maya’s place. Her hands tightened on the steering wheel as she thought of everything in her bag. She had everything she needed in her trunk and her bag. She didn’t have to go to Maya’s. She could just keep driving until she needed to stop for gas. She could leave Denver and never see the Montgomerys again.

Never see Griffin again.

It would be the smart thing to do.

The safe thing.

But once again, Autumn didn’t do the smart thing. She didn’t want to leave. And because of that, she just prayed she hadn’t signed a death warrant for her friends.

For Griffin.

****

Griffin tilted his head as he watched the twins talk to another contractor about some piece of wood or something. Honestly, Griffin didn’t know as much as he should when it came to Montgomery Inc., but he at least tried to be a good brother and help out once in a while. And when his writing was going well and he needed a morning off to breathe, being here helped him, too.

Of course, no one would let him near a saw, so he usually had to paint things. Or glue things. Or nod as others spoke their thoughts aloud. He didn’t mind, really, but at some point, people had to let the whole saw thing go. It had been one time.

“You’re thinking about the Incident, aren’t you?” Storm asked, a grin on his face. “We’re not letting you near one.”

“Fuck, no,” Decker said as he saddled up to them. He put his hammer in his toolbelt and snorted. “No way he’s allowed to go near sharp and pointy things. Miranda will kick my ass.”

“She’s like half your size,” Griffin said dryly.

“And she is mighty.” Decker nodded sagely, and the brothers laughed. Miranda was mighty for sure.

“Seriously, though, it’s been years,” Griffin pleaded. “I won’t cut an arm off.”

Decker glanced pointedly at Griffin’s cast. “You’re already one arm down, best not to risk it. I have a nice paintbrush and bucket of paint if you’d like to do the trim in this one room. Or you can take notes for me.” He winced. “If you can do that one-handed.”

Luc wandered over, holding back a grin. “I’m not allowed to help that much either, and this is my job.”

“You were shot, Luc,” Griffin said. “You’re not allowed to lift too many things yet.”

Wes ran a hand over his face. “Fuck, we’re a regular soap opera here. We have shootings, secret babies, car accidents…” He met Griffin’s eyes. “Most of that happened when the others found their wives. So, bro, you have something to tell us about Autumn?”

Griffin raised his chin. “I don’t know what you mean?”