Epoch (Transcend Duet #2)(63)

She bites her lower lip and shakes her head, hugging her knees to her chest. I nod.

She shakes.

My brows lift slightly. She releases a silent sigh and crawls toward me, straddling both of my outstretched legs.

Palming her ass, I guide her down onto me. Her eyes flutter as she grabs my biceps.

“Baby …” I whisper over her lips.

She brushes her mouth over mine, slowly rocking her pelvis against mine. I resist the burning urge to flip her onto her back and fuck her into some grand apology—until she begs for my forgiveness—until every memory of Daisy and Nate vanish forever. Until … she chooses a life with me.

“I didn’t get in the wrong line at the grocery store.”

She stills, moving her hands to my cheeks, so much pain on her face. “I can’t go with you.” More emotions pool in her eyes.

“And I can’t stay.” I cover her hands with mine. “But, Swayz … I didn’t get in the wrong line at the grocery store.”

She blinks out another round of tears. “Fuck you, Daisy.” It’s something between a sob and a laugh.

I smile and nod once. “Fuck you, Daisy.”

We kiss and it’s all us.

I can’t change what’s on the outside. I can’t save her from another life. So I devour her like I may never eat again, or take another breath. And after a few more seconds of this slow build up, I flip her onto her back and try to fuck some sense into her.

I’m not a hero. I’m human. But still … I want the impossible.





CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE





“No,” Griffin grumbles in a sleepy voice, tightening his hold on me as I try to slide out from underneath his arm hooked around my waist.

“I have to pee and text my mom. She thinks I’m coming over.” I already know I have a gazillion missed messages from her. I’m surprised she hasn’t driven over here. The fact that I let her track my phone location is probably the only thing keeping her home.

“I’m leaving you. You’re not leaving me.”

I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. It’s a little too soon and a lot too raw for those words.

He releases me. “Go. I’m kidding. But come back. I’m not done ruining you.”

For another man—Nate.

I’m fine with being Griffin’s ruination. At least I know he can put me back together. The thing is … he’s leaving.

I slip on Griffin’s discarded tee, grab my phone, and go into the bathroom. Yep. Six missed messages and two missed calls.

Me: SO sorry.

Me: Got distracted.

Me: Staying here.

Me: Talk to you in the morning.

Mom: Oh? That’s good. Yes?

Me: It’s still heartbreaking. But, I want it.

Like a drug, the withdrawal is going to suck. I hope to God I survive.

Mom: Love you.

After I’m done in the bathroom, I tiptoe to the kitchen to get a drink of water. It’s starting to snow again. I watch it for a few minutes.

The floor behind me creaks.

“More snow,” I say.

Griffin towers behind me. He takes my glass and drinks the rest of my water before setting the glass off to the side on the kitchen table in front of me.

“I like you in my shirt. I always have.” His hand slides around me, under the front hem of the shirt.

My jaw relaxes, releasing tiny erratic breaths between my parted lips. His fingers tease me while his other hand finds my breast, pinching my nipple. I jerk back against him until his cock nudges my back.

“Bend forward.” His words rasp along my ear. “I’m going to fuck you on our table. Because I can.”

Yeah. He’s ruined me because—Lie on your back, I’m going to gently make love to you—will never do it for me. It will never feed my hunger to be physically and emotionally owned by a man like Griffin.

I bend forward and rest my cheek on the cold wood, gripping the opposite side of the table. A cool shiver shoots along my spine when he slides up the shirt, exposing my ass. His fingers tease me, fucking me, until I pulse my pelvis against his hand. The head of his cock replaces that hand, and he drives into me on one hard thrust. Followed by another. And another …

The table scrapes along the floor a fraction every time his hips slam against my backside.

It’s him.

It’s me.

It’s us.

Swayze and Griffin—sex on demand.

*

“I want to cry. But I think my tear ducts are broken.” I frown at Griffin when he hands me a cup of coffee.

He returns a sad smile before tipping my chin up with his finger and pressing his lips to mine for an easy kiss. “Good morning.”

“Morning.” Good? I can’t say that.

He’s going to work. He has to know I’m going to work too—at Nate’s house. Yet, he’s showing a shit ton more confidence than I could muster on my best day.

“How do you do that?”

He fills a water bottle at the sink. “Do what?”

“Last night. This morning. The picture. The kiss. The forgotten birthday. Daisy. The returned engagement ring. We’re unraveling and you keep clipping the thread like it’s no big deal. But what’s going to happen when it’s the last piece of the thread?”