Drift Heat

by Adrian R. Hale

  “I’d like to think I’m delicious, but I’ll leave that up to you.” He leans forward, his mouth hovering over mine.

  “Shelby.”

  One word. My fucking name from his lips in that baritone that makes me tremble. It shatters the moment and has me ducking back from Mason. I shut my eyes and blow out a breath as I push away from the wall, from Mason who doesn’t even look fazed, and find Griffin standing just outside the bar door.

  “What?” I say, more forcefully than I had intended.

  “You should go back to the hotel.” He crosses his arms over his chest, his biceps bulging under the sleeves of his Just Ain’t Care T-shirt.

  “And do what, pretend not to hear you bang your skanks in the next room? No, thanks.”

  Mason straightens up off the wall. “Hey, I’m gonna grab another beer inside. Come find me later, if you want to.” He lightly touches my arm and nods at Griffin as he passes between us. Griffin mean-mugs him until he’s inside and I roll my eyes.

  “Seriously? You would rather hook up with a second place loser, someone I wiped the track with, than wait for me?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over the skanks screaming your name in the bathroom.” I cross my arms to mirror him, hating every bit of how I feel when I think of him with those girls.

  “You’re jealous.” Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but I swear I detect a hint of surprise in his words.

  “And you’re not?”

  “I didn’t bang any skanks.” He pulls his hand over his face and through his hair, the pieces standing up and drawing my eyes.

  “But your tongue on their skin and your hands on their bodies is nothing, right?” I look away because I can’t let his sexy body, his powerful stance, or the way he looks at me with those beautiful eyes strip me of my anger.

  “You were letting Mason, and the entire team before him, touch you on that very same dance floor. You were going to let him kiss you and who knows what else. Are you really that attention-starved and looking for a cock between your legs?”

  “You fucking asshole.” I turn and start to walk away with my face on fire and a murderous rage wanting me to deck him. My hands fist tightly and my breath comes in short, angry bursts that do nothing to control the emotions swirling through me.

  “Don’t walk away from me, Shelby.” His voice is a low warning, but doesn’t hold enough threat for me to take seriously.

  “Then don’t push me away, Griffin.” I don’t slow, just head for the corner of the building, rounding toward the parking lot. He has a lot of nerve, demanding I stay to have it out with him when he’s being a total dick. How can he say such awful things to me? Because I kind of asked for it. I cringe and close my eyes.

  I hear his exasperated sigh before his shoes crunch along the sidewalk in my wake. He grabs my shoulder, spinning me around to face him and pins me back against the wall with his body. A sexually charged tension flares between us instantly with his aggressive movements, my breath coming in pants through my open lips as his eyes devour my entire face. He cups my jaw firmly, but doesn’t squeeze or force me to look at him. I do that all on my own. I can’t take my eyes off his. I can’t stop seeing promises of more float through the smoky blue depths that churn with anger and challenges.

  “I said, don’t walk away from me. Call me names, spit your hate to my face, but don’t turn your back on me. Or else...”

  “Or else what?” My tone is still accusatory and hurt, even through the lusty haze he’s forcing me into with his close proximity and his hands that settle heavily on me. His thumb slides silkily over my ribs as his fingers tighten on my waist.

  “It’s over. This stupid no-strings thing you want. You walk away, we’re done.”

  He’s intense and sure of his words, pointing me to a very real conclusion to our “thing” that we just started. I don’t want it to end so soon. But how do I manage to stand in the face of his anger, his accusations that I’m easy and attention-starved? I’m not. I refuse to be.

  But I would have gone home with Mason, just to spite Griffin.

  Guilt, shame, and horror at how much I have changed in such a short time accost me. I’m no prude, but I usually make it a little harder for a guy to take me home. What’s happened to me? It’s easier to stay angry than to confront those emotions, so I push them under the rug and hope my conscious can deal with that shit later.

  “Yeah, I’d like to see you stick to that.” I drop my eyes from his face, my voice sounding small and scared at the prospects of what my jealousy was able to make me do in such a short time. As much as it pains me to think of him grinding up on some random skanks in a bar far from home, it hurts worse to imagine a future where I don’t even have my covert, precious nights with him.

  Fuck. I’m in trouble. I was in trouble when I began to think of our secret hook-ups as precious. No, I was in trouble when I decided I wanted something more with him than a tension-filled professional relationship. Fuck again.

  Griffin’s fingers release my jaw, tilting my chin up until my watery eyes meet his. He strokes my cheek, his eyes softening as he takes in my struggle.

  “Baby, you don’t have to do this. Why do you want us to go about our lives like normal, even though I want the world to know you’re mine? What do you want me to do? You want me to chase you around, try to pretend I’m not interested and let you push my hands away when I can’t? You want me to sit by while every guy in the place grinds his dick on you while you look like you’re enjoying it? Fuck that, Shelby. Either you let me touch you, or I’m going to touch someone else, wishing she were you the whole time.”

  “Don’t...”

  “Don’t what? Tell you the honest truth? Because it is. I would rather go in there and simply hold your hand in front of the entire crowd than fuck someone else. But you don’t even want me to touch you in public while you shamelessly throw yourself at anyone with a dick and a dollar for a drink.”

  I pull back from his touch and narrow my eyes at him. Every other word out of his mouth makes me feel like a cheap slut. “Jesus, Griffin, can you be any more of an asshole?” I shake my head. “We can’t...the team. I’m not like that,” I say, my eyes growing wide and my heart speeding up.

  Am I really that awful? Have I slipped so low that attention and the promise of more is enough to get me to do things normally out of my character? Well, out of the norm for Shelby Jensen, shop manager and daughter of Hank. Shelby Elise, promo model, hasn’t made the best reputation for herself. I hate the discrepancy between the two sides of me. I want to be respected for my talent and car knowledge, while wanted and appreciated for being an attractive woman. Is it possible to have both, or do I have to pick a box and wedge all of myself into it, even if there are parts that seriously don’t fit?

  “Fuck the team. They can get over it if it bothers them so much. What’s wrong with this, with us, that you would rather hide it? Am I that awful that you would rather I be your dirty little secret?”

  “It’s not the same for you!” I slap my hands against my thighs in frustration. “Guys can sleep with whomever they want and not get a label or be talked about behind their backs. If anyone knows we’re sleeping together, I will look like the biggest slut ever. Suddenly, my good ideas will be dismissed and my opinion won’t count for shit. I’ve managed to find a place that allows my creative ideas to be respected and I get to represent a team I care about. I don’t want to lose that. This is supposed to be no-strings, remember? It stays between us.”

  Griffin grinds his teeth as he looks away. He blows out a breath and turns those stormy blue eyes back to me. “I don’t want you going home with anyone but me. Don’t let any fucking cocksucker put their mouth or hands on you. Got it? We can pretend for the team, but you can’t do that to me.”

  I suck in a breath and flatten my back against the brick wall behind me. The lines are blurring really fast. He’s putting demands on me that feel like a more than casual interest, but I understand. I want to put the same
demands on him, make him stick to his own words. This is a two-way street, even if the middle line is a hazy road hazard intent on causing major accidents.

  “The same goes for you. You so much as touch another girl, I’ll rip your balls off. Got it?” I straighten against the wall and will him to defy me. It would be so much easier to stop things with him if he refuses. I do have principles.

  I guess there will be some strings, after all. Christian Grey would have a field day with the ropes we are binding ourselves in.

  He smiles. He actually full-on smiles at my righteous insistence. It’s a beautiful change from the malevolent storm that has been creasing his forehead and drawing his lips into a thin line.

  “Baby, no one could feel as good as you anyway.”

  In a swift second, his mouth is on mine, claiming and insisting and forcing me open. My greedy hands slide around his neck, pulling him closer as he devours me. I kiss him hard, like a pseudo punishment that has no harmful consequences, and he takes all I give.

  He glides his hand down my body, popping the button on my shorts and sliding in. I let him, needing the closeness I crave but fight. I look around quickly, making sure we are alone on this side of the building, bathed in shadows that obscure our hiding place.

  “Fuck, you’re so wet,” he says, his fingers parting folds and finding my entrance. “God, I love how you feel.”

  I tip my head back, gasping as he pushes two fingers into me and presses me further into the shadows of the building. I can almost forget the hurt and jealousy I felt when he uses his skilled hands and mouth on me. My breathing hitches as he strokes my spot and his lips claim mine. We’re out in public, where anyone can see us, and I don’t for a second want him to stop. Instead, I spread my legs more so he has room to rub my clit with the heel of his hand. He’s turned me into a sex-starved mess that’s willing to do depraved acts without a thought. Now I’m that slut he’s finger-banging against a wall. Oh, how the tables have turned and I’ve become that whom I judged. Despite my judgment, the illicit nature and the borderline lewdness of the act makes me horny as hell.

  “God, Griffin, harder. I want you fucking me with your fingers, make me come all over your hand.” My near-whisper is throaty, laced with desire as I demand more.

  Griffin groans into my hair and steadies himself against the building as he jams a third finger into me, filling me like his cock would and nearly lifting me off my feet with his powerful arms. He manages to get his thumb over my piercing, the nearly-painful thrust of his hand sending me right to the edge. I grip his hair as my body clenches and grips him in release. He slows his movements while my pussy pulses around his fingers.

  I whimper when he pulls my lip with his teeth and he chuckles. He lets my lip go only to attack my neck with the same sharp teeth and warm tongue as he slides his hand out of my shorts. I wince slightly and force my hand up around his neck and push his head away from me.

  “I swear to God, if you mark me I’m going to kick your ass. We’ve been over this; not where anyone can see it. My neck is on display all the fucking time, so it’s off limits.”

  He smoothes his hand along the wet spot he left on my neck. “Then let’s go back to the hotel so I can find a place no one will see. Unless you want me to continue this right here...”

  “No, not here.” I look around the very public parking lot. Even though we are safely ensconced in the shadows, anyone could walk past and discover us. “Do you think anyone will suspect we left together?” I grip his biceps and look into his amused face. I wish he’d take this as seriously as I do. It’s not funny. I button my shorts again as I wait for his response. He looks down at me, bracketed between his arms that trap me against the building.

  “You left before I did, with another guy. If anyone even noticed, that’s what they will remember.” His voice more than hints at his displeasure with that situation. Shaking his head, he pulls me away from the wall and presses his hand to my back before directing us back to the street where we walk the few blocks to the hotel.

  He holds my hand, his thumb skimming over my knuckles while our shoulders bump together as we walk. This is a tiny taste of what life with him out in the open would be like. The walk in the cool air gives me time to find perspective and start overthinking every one of our interactions. Right now it’s nice and normal, but on the heels of our jealous spat and insecure name calling, it feels anything but. The comparison makes me feel all itchy and in need of answers, even if that means I have to dig deep into the wounds we inflict on each other like they don’t actually leave a mark.

  “Why do you insist on making me feel like a whore?” I ask as we walk through the hotel hallway to my room. He is sharing a room with Ryan, so it wouldn’t really be good to try hooking up in his room.

  Griffin looks over quickly, pulling me to a stop outside my door. I fish in my pocket for my key card and let us in.

  “Where the fuck did that come from? I’ve never once called you a whore.”

  “You don’t call me a whore outright, but you make me feel like shit whenever you say things like you did tonight about being insecure and needing a cock between my legs, or throwing myself at every dick with a dollar. Last week, you said I was a cock tease wanting to get off between two guys.” Not to mention he just got me off against a building. I cringe and tip my chin down, letting my hair hide my face from him.

  He switches on the light and closes the door as I walk in and kick my heels off into my suitcase. As I stand flat-footed and look up at him I think maybe I should have kept them on to maintain our eye-level height. Even with our height difference now, he barely manages to meet my eyes, his hands squeezing the back of the desk chair. I kind of hate myself for killing the mood by opening my stupid mouth. It would have been a lot easier to just fall into bed and not discuss this. I just couldn’t leave well enough alone. Too bad you can’t hit delete on conversations in real life.

  “I guess...I didn’t mean to. I didn’t want to make you feel like a whore. It’s just...you make me feel emotions so much stronger than I normally do. You make me bat-shit crazy with anger, or so high and happy and satisfied. You don’t even realize that you do it, you just match my energy with your own and we explode.”

  “So it’s my fault you call me sick names and insult me every time we fight?” I cross my arms over my chest, not about to let him get away with this. I’m not into master manipulators who turn a situation or fight around to make you the bad guy. It takes two to tango; two imperfect people who struggle and make mistakes. We all need to own up to our failures and take responsibility.

  “Only when you insist on getting on the jock of another guy,” he explodes, his hands flying into the air. “I can’t help that you make me insane with jeal—” he cuts off before he finishes the word, and looks away with an angry scowl that makes me think he didn’t want to reveal that much.

  We are both keeping our true feelings close, not wanting to share our hand with the other. I shake my head sadly. “Can you just try to not say shit like that, please? Don’t make me feel like a slut. I’m good enough at making myself feel bad about what I do or my mistakes, I don’t need you to add to it. It’s so much worse that way.” My voice is steady but small, asking for something that lays me out more vulnerable to him than when I’m naked. I’m admitting that he’s hurt me with his words, when all along I’ve played like they didn’t faze me.

  The tension that has raised Griffin’s shoulders eases minutely, his face turning back to find mine. He reaches out to pick up a piece of my hair off my shoulder, rubbing the strand between his fingers. “I can do that. I can try.”

  “Thank you. And I’ll try not to make you jealous.” I smile and look at him from under my lashes. At least we found something to agree on, something that unites us as more than fuck buddies. We’ll try for each other. Even if it ties more strings on our relationship.

  “Are we done with our heart-to-heart now? I’ve wanted to fuck you all day and my balls are gonna turn blue
soon.” Griffin reaches for me, his hands pushing under my top to cup my boobs.

  “And just like that, the cocky asshole is back,” I say, laughing as he kneads my flesh. It’s much easier to exist in our physical connection than to test the bounds of the emotional one that is so messy and complicated.

  I become hell-bent on making sure his balls don’t turn blue. Pushing his pants and boxers down his thighs, I grip him tightly with both hands until he mutters my name in a string of profanity. When he strips his shirt off, I bite his chest roughly and lick his nipples until he’s rocking into my tightly fisted hands that stroke him.

  “You like that, superstar? You want me to mark you this time?” I suck his light brown nipple into my mouth and stare up his chest as he moans.

  “Fuck, baby, I don’t want to come like this. I want to be inside you.” He barely manages to break away from me, turning back to his pants for a condom while I strip out of my clothes.

  I let him push me back on the bed and bring my knees up to my chest over his arms that trap me flat on my back. When he pushes against my entrance, I can’t help bearing down and fighting the rough intrusion.

  “Relax, let me in.” I blink my eyes open at his word choice. He wants more than me physically letting him in. He wants into my life, and ultimately, my heart. I quickly shut down that train of thought before I freak out on him. I’m done raising hell and just want to be fucked.

  I breathe out and will myself to relax around him as he inches forward. Even with him fingering me just a short while ago, he’s so big it can hurt if I’m not wet enough, especially in this position. He eases back and then slides all the way in as I relax and we rock together.

  It’s true that make-up sex after a fight feels more passionate, more intense than usual. With Griffin, sex is always incredible, he makes sure of it, but when he looks into my eyes tonight, there are unspoken apologies. There are questions about the validity of our actions and feelings. There are accusations, from both of us to each other and ourselves, of what we were willing to do to get under each other’s skin. Neither of us wants to be the one to get hurt, so we guard our hearts and strike first.