But he really liked her smile. And this smile in particular. This one said we are totally on the same page, and this page is going to be a hell of a lot of fun.
She took one more little step forward, putting her directly in front of him, her breasts centimeters away from brushing against his chest. Her forehead was right in front of his mouth, at the perfect height for kissing. Which meant that without her shoes on, her head would tuck right under his chin. The perfect height for hugging.
Griffin rolled his eyes at himself. He was thinking about this woman being the perfect height for hugging? Really? It was one thing to be immediately attracted to her and to have her charm him past his general dislike of conversation and socialization, but it was quite another for him to be measuring her hugging height at this point.
“There’s just one thing I need to know,” she said.
“Okay.”
“Brace yourself. I’m going to ask you something personal,” she warned. “But I do think that it is important.”
Personal. That was definitely one of his least favorite words. He hesitated but could not ignore the fact that his palms were literally itching to run over the smooth expanse of her shoulder and upper arm bared by her strapless dress. If he didn’t touch this woman and kiss her at least once, he was going to regret it forever.
That was the strangest thought he had maybe ever had, but it was enough to make him say, “What do you want to know?”
“What’s your first name?” She paused. “Just your first name. I don’t need your last name.”
“Griffin.”
She smiled. “Hi, Griffin. I’m Charlotte.”
Charlotte. It fit her. Beautiful, slightly sophisticated but warm.
Warm? He thought of her name as warm? That was maybe the second strangest thought he’d ever had.
“There is one other thing I need to know about you,” he said.
Her eyes widened. “Wow, you’re going to ask me something personal?”
He lifted a brow, letting her know he noted her sass. “Are you from here?”
He really needed the answer to that. He was going to be incredibly disappointed if the answer was yes, but if she was from Autre, and they just hadn’t crossed paths until now, this was the time to know. He could still shut this down. Which he absolutely would if she was local. This woman gave him all kinds of I-could-get-attached vibes, and he needed to nip that in the bud.
“I’m not.”
Air rushed from his lungs before Griffin realized he’d even been holding his breath.
“In fact, I’m really not from here.”
“What’s that mean?” She’d already given him the best answer she could have.
“I’m actually moving to Paris in two days. I got a new job.”
He blinked at her. “Paris?”
“Yes, Paris. France.”
Okay, that was the best answer she could have given him. Another country? Another continent? That was fantastic. He gave her a big smile. Her eyes widened, then she blinked at him as if stunned.
He reached out and ran his hand from her elbow to her bare shoulder. Her pale skin was soft and silky, and he felt relief at finally making skin-to-skin contact with her. But even better than the actual feel of her skin under his hand was the tiny shiver of awareness that went through her body.
“I happen to be a huge fan of Paris,” he said. With his hand on her elbow, he drew her closer.
She came forward willingly. “You’ve been to Paris?”
“No.”
She gave him a small knowing smile. “You’re a fan of me going to Paris in two days.”
He nodded.
“You know most girls would probably be insulted by that.”
“I’m getting the impression you’re not most girls.”
“Thank you very much, Griffin.”
They leaned in at the same time. Her hands came to rest on his waist while his gently gripped her upper arms. Their mouths met. The kiss was soft. But only for about three seconds. That was all the time it took for his body to say, Oh, yeah, we want all of this right fucking now. Then she pressed closer, slid her hands higher, and opened her mouth too.
He ran his hands from her upper arms over her shoulders to the back of her hair, where he cradled her head in his palms, his fingers tangled deep in the silky blond tresses.
Her hands slid up over his ribs to his biceps, where she gripped him, pulling herself up onto tiptoe.
She gave a tiny moan, he growled in the back of his throat, and their tongues met, stroking hungrily.
She tasted even better than she looked. And considering that he wasn’t sure he had ever met a woman who had gotten under his skin so quickly, that should’ve been the biggest red flag of all. Instead, he relished the hunger crashing through him.
It had been so long since he’d felt raw emotion. He didn’t let himself anymore. He’d learned to lock it down and had, for the most part, been pleased with the results of that. Ignoring those emotions. Keeping them pushed out of his consciousness, kept him on an even keel, and if not happy, at least not angry and resentful.
But raw emotions didn’t just include anger and rage at injustice and a desire to fight and argue and protest. Desire and the need to possess were also true raw emotions. Emotions he hadn’t felt in an exceptionally long time. And this woman was bringing them all rushing to the forefront. He was incapable of stopping it.
He tore his mouth from hers and looked down. Her blue eyes were darker now, swirling with emotion as well. She was breathing a little faster, her likely expensive-as-hell lipstick completely smudged. He lifted one hand to his bottom lip and ran the pad of his thumb over it. He drew it away and looked down to see the dark pink stain on his skin. He liked that. Her mark on him. It was a strange thought, and one he didn’t want to delve into at all, but he did acknowledge it.
“You okay?” he asked.
Her eyes widened slightly. “What in the world would make you think I wasn’t okay?”
“Just making sure.”
“Well, Griffin, I’m very okay, and I promise that if at any point I become not okay, you will be the first to know.”
Yeah, he really liked her.
“Deal.”
He captured her lips again, kissing her deeply, stroking his tongue against hers, wondering how she could taste so amazing. Had it really just been so long since he’d been with a woman?
But it hadn’t really been all that long. He hadn’t been celibate since coming to Louisiana. He just hadn’t been emotionally involved. Of course, he hadn’t been emotionally involved in a lot longer than that. Still, there was something about this woman that made his hunger feel more urgent, and everything about being with her, sweeter at the same time.
It was really good she was going to Paris in two days.
She moved her hands to his chest and gripped his shirt in her fists. She tipped her head, slanting her mouth under his, and gave a needy little moan.
Something about her being needy made his gut clench, and a very primal instinct surge forward, demanding he take care of every need she had.
With his mouth still on hers, he started walking her backward. It was about six steps to the nearest wall. Of course, it was a barn wall, but a part of his brain—a part that was quickly becoming the most insistent and impossible to ignore—cared only that it was a firm surface.