Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 55171 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55171 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
“Yeah, let’s go for a walk on the beach,” I tell him, then turn around and walk back into the house, where I know we’ll be met with the absence of Griff. Maybe if I keep us super busy, we won’t miss the man of the house too much. Probably wishful thinking, but it’s better than wallowing in sadness.
18
GRIFFIN
“Goddamn, it’s been too long,” I tell Stormy on the screen of my phone. Yesterday, I sent her a text that I’d made it. She responded with a picture of her and Finn on the beach. I put my phone away, went over the itinerary, how many boats would be in the water, and the course we’d be working. It was work and nothing but work until I crawled into bed, my head hit the pillow, and I was out like a light. I’d have texted or called her if the early hours of the morning weren’t creeping as it is by the time, I got away from everyone the clock laughed in my face, she’d be fast asleep that I wasn’t waking her up even with a message.
“Good morning to you, too. It’s been less than twenty-four hours. Are you admitting that you miss me?” She is in our bed, the covers pulled up to her shoulders, and I don’t miss the flash of yellow behind her. Christ, Finn is going to take my spot all too easily if I’m out of town more than I already am.
“I’ve got no shame admitting that I miss you, Stormy.” Her face gets soft, this time not from sleep, since I more than likely woke her up with the early phone call.
“I miss you, too, Griff.” She props her phone up on the nightstand. The comforter moves away from her body. A groan leaves me at seeing the shirt of mine she’s wearing. This one white, nearly thread bare, and I can see the outline of her nipples. What I wouldn’t give to be with her right now. I already know where I’d start, too. I’d take one pebbled peak, sucking it through the fabric, while my hand would slide up the back of her thigh, wedging myself between her spread legs. I’d repeat the process with her other nipple until the cotton shirt is nice and wet, much like I know her cunt would be. The cool air and damp shirt would do what my mouth couldn’t as I moved down her body. It wouldn’t take me long to work my way to her cunt. Fuck, I can practically taste it, and we’re hundreds of miles away from one another. Christ, I’d take this a whole lot further if it weren’t for the fact that I’m rooming with another person in this small home that’s been rented for us to use. As it is, someone could walk in and interrupt, which wouldn’t be an issue on my end, but I’ll be damned if someone hears or sees Stormy in mid-orgasm, or fucking forbid if she were stripped naked. I’d lose my Goddamn mind.
“Griff, you’re a million miles away. I won’t keep you. I know you’ve got a lot going on and need to prepare for.” I break out of my thoughts. If she only fucking knew what was going on in my head.
“I’m good. Work is the last thing on my mind right now.” It should be the first, especially with the situations we deal with. At any given moment, a boat could wreck by taking the wrong turn or hitting a wave at just the right angle. The fuel they carry makes it even more dangerous.
“Oh, really.” Her bare legs appear in my screen, and I’m left biting back another groan. Maybe I should have canceled this job after all. My head is not in the game. It’s buried in everything that’s Stormy.
“Baby girl, the things I’d do to you if this house weren’t full of men who could interrupt us at any given moment.” Fuck this, being away from Stormy is not my idea of a good time. Next time I’m at a boat race, I’ll make sure we get our own place. Four nights away from my woman is going to turn me into a bigger asshole than I already am with the others around. At least if she’s here each night, I know I’ll be coming back to her. There won’t be a seven-hour drive home, making it impossible to be home right after the last race on Sunday. Four nights away from her is too damn long.
“Griff, that’s not fair.” She moves again, this time sitting off to the side, unknowingly giving me a glance of her bare pussy. Stormy listens, even when I’m not home.
I look over my shoulder, see no one is near the door, stand up from my place on the too small bed, close the door, and lock it for good measure. “Lift your shirt for me, baby girl. I need something to tide me over.” I walk back to my phone. It’s propped up on a pillow, my bulge front and center giving Stormy a view of my own. These damn cargo pants do more than hold supplies; they’re giving my woman a show for her to see exactly what she does to me.