That Second Chance (Getting Lucky #1)(67)

Before I can drink him in further, he presses me back down into the air mattress and hovers above me, the heat of his body warming me up immediately.

He moves his forehead to mine, our lungs rising and falling in unison as his hand slowly glides down my arm, finding my hand. He twists our fingers together and then brings our joined hands above my head, locking me in place.

And then he attacks my mouth again, his powerful body leaning into mine, our legs tangling, his arousal pressing against my hip.

Yes. God, yes.

With every swipe of his tongue, every pass of his thumb over my hand, my body is fueled with lust for this man. He’s invading every last nerve I have.

His scent, spicy and fresh, hypnotizing.

His taste, minty, addictive.

His body, large and strong, arousing.

His erection, thick, teasing.

I need more, so I rotate my hips against his, eliciting a groan from deep within him as he breaks off our kiss.

“Ren,” he says breathlessly. “You can’t do that.”

“Can’t do what?” I’m just as breathless.

“Move your hips like that.” He leans down and pecks my lips a few times. “I’m hard as a fucking rock right now, and any movement is going to be too much.” He pulls away just a little, growing serious. “It’s been a really long time for me, and even though I want you so fucking bad right now, I’m not about to have sex with you on an air mattress with my brothers in the next tent over.”

Oh, right. I didn’t even think about that. I was so caught up in the moment.

I bite my bottom lip. “Sorry, I guess I thought for a second that we were in our own private world.”

“We might be in a tent, but it’s definitely not private.” With a frustrated breath, he peels off of me and rolls onto his back, draping a hand over his eyes. I watch, fascinated at how his brawny chest falls up and down, his tight nipples emphasized by his large pecs. If he’s trying to turn down the heat level between us, he’s doing a shitty job. I take in the deep V of his hips and how low his shorts ride on . . .

Oh.

My.

God.

The soft fabric of his shorts does absolutely nothing to hide his arousal, and it’s gloriously large. My mouth waters as my body involuntarily moves forward, my hand going to his thigh.

From my light touch, he startles and whips his head toward me. “What are you doing?”

“You’re so hard, Griffin; let me do something about it.”

“No.”

Okay, not the answer I was expecting.

“Griffin, I want to.”

“And I appreciate that, but it’s not happening.” He must see my disappointment, because he quickly sits up and cradles my face in his palms, forcing me to look him in the eyes. “I meant it’s not happening here, not when we’re so close to everyone. When we do this, and fuck, we will, it’s going to be when we’re alone and I can hear your moans without having to muffle them. Okay?”

The corners of my lips tilt up. Okay? That is more than okay, and all I can think about now is how the hell we’re going to get through two whole nights of camping.

I nod. “Okay.”

He presses a kiss against my forehead and pulls away, putting distance between us again. “Give me a few minutes to catch my breath, and then we’ll cuddle, if that’s good with you.”

“Take your time.”

I turn away from him, the promise of more to come swimming around in my head. It almost doesn’t feel real, that Griffin Knightly is about to hold me all night, that he just kissed me so wildly, with so much passion, that it felt like my clothes were going to melt off.

I know he thinks he’s the one having a hard time calming down his arousal, but he has no idea how turned on I am, how much I can’t wait to be able to feel him all over again and press my lips against his.

This is going to be the longest camping trip of my life.



“Will you mind your own fucking business? Christ, man.” Griffin’s whisper-shout sounds from outside the tent.

My eyes blink open. The early-morning sun has heated up the tent, turning it into a greenhouse. I kick off the sleeping bag and loll my head to the side as Reid—or I think it’s Reid—talks back to Griffin.

“Just tell me if you at least kissed. We thought we heard something, but we couldn’t be sure.”

“You can fuck off.”

“Stop being a baby and just give us something.”

“Will you keep your voice down?” Griffin snaps in a hushed tone. “She’s still sleeping, you douche, and the last thing I want you to do is wake her up with your incessant questioning. Drop it.”

I stifle my giggles, imagining the ornery look on Griffin’s face. It’s one of the reasons why I like him so much—he loves his family dearly but also wants to throttle them most of the time.

I give them a few minutes before moving from my comfortable position on the air mattress, memories of the night before flooding my mind.

To say Griffin is a good cuddler is an understatement. He knew just how to hold me, how to splay his hand across my stomach, how to make me feel protected. And when at one point I woke in the night, I found his face was buried in my hair. He stirred for a second before absentmindedly pressing a kiss to my head and then falling back to sleep.