Sudden Flames (Sweet Promise #2)

by Shanora Williams

  Kelly glances back, flipping his bangs back before returning his gaze to mine and gripping the edge of the desk.

  “Alright. Fine. But don’t say anything.” Leaning forward, he whispers, “Someone important is in there. He has never told me who he is, but I assume he’s Mr. Boyd’s brother. They look just alike, only… the brother is a little like… me.” He grins, standing up straight in his black button-down shirt and skin-tight dress pants.

  “Like you?” I ask, confused.

  “Yeah… you know—” He wiggles his eyebrows, trying to fight another grin. “More on the sweeter side. Just wait.” He waves a hand. “You’ll see what I mean.”

  I step back and smile with him. I have always wondered why Griffin doesn’t have a female assistant. Kelly hardly knows me, but has just told me something that is probably personal to Griffin.

  If it were a female, she would probably hate me because she’d know I’m bagging her boss, something she’d most likely long for.

  I can tell Kelly gossips a lot, or maybe I just made him comfortable enough to talk to me. I tend to have that effect on people sometimes.

  Just as that thought passes my mind and Kelly is sitting in his chair, typing away at the keyboard, Griffin’s door swings open and a tall, thin guy walks out.

  His hair is pulled back into a raven ponytail, slick and smooth. His face is defined and firm, just like Griffin’s. Sharp nose, sculpted lips, smooth, tan skin most likely from absorbing the Florida sun.

  At first glance, you wouldn’t think this guy is gay. But it’s when he starts to walk, and when he says, “You must be here to cure his crankiness,” that I finally realize it.

  He is handsome, no doubt. I’m sure all of the Boyds are easy on the eyes.

  His lips tilt upward as he looks at me, and my brows dip a bit. “I’m only here for work,” I say, wondering if Griffin has actually told him about me.

  Would he? If he did maybe that means I’m in the clear. Maybe that means he really sees the potential in our future together.

  “Oh, stop it.” He waves a hand. “Get in there. Someone other than me has to put up with Mr. Angry Ass.” Kelly hiccups a laugh at the brother’s statement. The brother chuckles with him, and behind him, Griffin appears with his arms crossed tightly on his chest.

  He focuses broad on his brother first, and then at me, and my smile slowly disappears. He doesn’t look happy. At all.

  “Get back to Green Wave, Walter,” Griffin says, his voice even.

  “Nah,” Walter steps back, folding his arms. “I think I’ll run down to get a pedicure or something. My feet look so horrible.”

  Griffin lifts a stern brow, and Walter laughs, walking towards his brother and capping his shoulder. “Come on, G. Calm down. I’ll get the pedi and then I’ll head back to Green Wave. The doc gave me this pass for good behavior. I have two more hours of freedom. Might as well make something of them right? Hey, I’ll even call to let you know I’m back in. I’ll have Patricia speak to you and everything. How’s that sound?”

  Griffin grunts in response, shrugging Walter’s hand off his shoulder.

  “Oh, speaking of calls,” Walter says turning as he gets to the middle of the hallway. “Mom is expecting one soon so… yeah. Get on that. She’s been bugging me and all I can tell her is that you’re busy. She needs to hear your voice, G.”

  Griffin presses his lips. “I’ll call when I can.”

  Walter shrugs and turns around. “Whatever. We both know you won’t.”

  Griffin watches his brother get into the elevator, narrowing his eyes as Walter waves like a child. When the doors are shut, Griffin eyes flash to meet mine, and I give him a sweet smile. He doesn’t return it.

  “Kelly, schedule my 3:15 for 3:45, will you?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Angelina, in my office.” He steps back, allowing me the opportunity to walk past him. I blow a heavy sigh through parted lips, walking past Griff, who smells fucking delicious by the way.

  All man, earthy cologne, some aftershave.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were flying in?” he asks as I get by.

  He follows closely behind me, shutting the door as I drop my clutch on the gray love seat in front of one of the windows.

  “I thought I’d surprise you.” I keep my folder in hand, and just as I turn to face him, I realize he is standing right behind me. I bump right into his chest and gasp, balancing myself on my heels.

  Luckily I’m saved by the edge of the sofa. “Griffin, Jesus, what the hell are you doing?”

  His eyes travel down to the black folder in my hand. “You look good today,” he murmurs.

  “Thanks,” I reply awkwardly.

  He continues a solid stare at the folder. “Put it down.”

  “What? The folder?”

  His eyes flicker up to mine and he holds my gaze, providing the answer without the power of his voice. I place the folder on top of one of the cushions.

  When my hands are free, Griffin grips my waist, tugging me closer to his toned body. “How long’s it been?” he asks.

  “Since what?”

  “Since we’ve been this close.”

  His voice holds a soft, deep timbre, causing warmth to instantly hit me and seep to my core.

  My body swirls with unknown heat, and as badly as I don’t need this right now, I can’t say I don’t want it.

  “I’m not sure. Four days maybe?”

  He smirks. “You’ve been that busy? It’s been five, actually.”

  His mouth nears mine, and I stare at his lips, swallowing thickly. “I guess I lost count. I’ve been keeping myself very busy… for you.”

  “Hmm…” is all he says. He studies my face, and I’m not sure what he’s searching for. A lie? A trick? Is he calling bullshit?

  I start to ask, but his mouth immediately comes down and latches onto mine. The kiss is soft and tender, at first. My hands grab his upper arms, sliding upwards until they are laced around the back of his neck.

  His mouth is greedy on mine, but the kiss is measured. He’s not kissing too roughly or too softly. He’s not giving too much, just enough to get my body begging.

  His body is close—so close that I can feel his arousal in his tailored slacks. He groans and I moan as his tongue swirls with mine—locking, sucking, breathing deep as he dips down and catches my plump bottom lip between his teeth.

  Just as I get into it—just as I feel that urge to unzip my skirt and pull off my blouse, Griffin snatches himself away.

  He’s several steps away from me now, lips pink and wet. He swipes the edges of his mouth with the pad of his thumb, and I don’t believe it, but he smirks.

  Turning his back to me, he walks around his desk and sits in his chair, leaving me in a humiliating stupor.

  “Bring the folder,” he orders, sitting back in his chair and looking me over.

  I narrow my eyes at him, still unable to pull myself together.

  “Angelina,” he calls, one brow cocked. “What’s the delay?”

  “Why did you just do that?” I finally ask, my breathing unbalanced.

  He looks around the office as if he’s confused, holding his hands out and then smiling. “We’re working. That’s what you want, right? That’s what this whole thing is all about. Work. Money.”

  I feel the corner of my upper lip, but I collect myself, picking up my folder, adjusting my blouse, and walking to the chair across from his.

  I drop the folder on top of the desk and he picks it up without hesitation.

  Sitting down, I rake my fingers through my hair with the urge to roll my eyes at him. Too bad he isn’t looking at me anymore.

  He pulls out the contract from the folder, sits back in his chair, places his ankle on top of his knee, and reads over it carefully with a hand beneath his chin, his elbow planted on the arm of the chair.

  He reads it word for word. Letter for letter.

  Several minutes pass by, but I remain patient, because he won’t find any
thing. Not this time. I made sure.

  “I’m not fooling you,” I say after he reads over the first page again. “It’s all there. Everything you wanted. I even included the part about… us… but in classier wording. It basically says that just because we work together doesn’t mean we are restricted to personal activities outside of the workplace.”

  “I saw that.” He lowers the contract. “You want this that bad? So badly you’ll give your entire body to me?”

  “Yes,” I state firmly.

  He shakes his head, laughing as he drops the contract on the desk. “Okay.” He pushes out of his chair and walks to the door. “Well, you can go now.”

  I frown, and stand quickly, holding a hand up. “Wait… what? You’re not going to sign it?”

  “I’ll sign it,” he says, smirking as he grips the door handle. “Eventually.”

  I thin my eyes at him. “Why can’t you do it now? You saw it, Griffin. I’m not playing you this time.”

  “Oh, I know you aren’t.” His face evens out, and he shuts the door immediately, walking in my direction. His eyes never leave mine.

  They seem darker now. Angrier.

  “Why can’t you sign it right now?”

  “Don’t piss me off, Angelina. Right now would be the wrong time to do so.”

  “How am I pissing you off? I asked you a simple question.”

  “And I gave you a simple answer.”

  We’re eye to eye now. Breaths bated, eyes hard, bodies tense. “Why are you doing this?” My voice is barely audible.

  His eyes spark from the streaks of Miami sunlight bouncing off his walls and shining on his suit. Before it can click in my brain, Griffin has my arm in his hand, bringing my body towards his desk as he shoves his papers aside.

  Staplers fall and crash, paperweights go boom as they hit the floor. Even the contract flutters to the floor, and I can’t help but watch it.

  Not that it’s important right now, but if it weren’t for that contract, I wouldn’t even be in this position right now. I’m starting to regret even bringing the damn things in here. Especially the first one.

  My upper body lands on top of the desk, my ass pointed up in the air.

  Lifting my skirt to reveal my ass, Griffin groans, and then slaps my ass.

  I yelp.

  “No panties.” It’s more of a statement from him than a question.

  “I knew you’d want something,” I return.

  He grips a fistful of my hair, bringing my head back. I gasp when his mouth sucks on the exposed skin on my neck, my legs now wobbling. “God, Griffin… what the hell has gotten into you?”

  “Nothing’s gotten into me, Angel,” he breathes, dragging his full, pink lips up to my ear. “But I will tell you one thing. I need this to happen right now. I need to feel you before I go fucking crazy. There’s a lot on my mind and I. Need. Some. Fucking. Release.”

  He turns me around and lifts me up, planting my ass on the edge of the desk. My eyes meet his lips, but he tilts my chin, forcing me to look into those whiskey irises.

  They swim with control, frustration, and most of all uncertainty.

  And then I realize… “When will you trust me again?” I ask.

  His face doesn’t change. “I’ve learned, Angelina, that I can’t trust a fucking soul on this earth.”

  “Griffin, I told you I’m sorry! I am trying to make it up to you now, by being here. By handing you this clean, fair contract.”

  “You say it like I fucking need the contract. Don’t forget that I don’t—that I can revoke it whenever I please if I even bother signing it.”

  Heat bubbles in my veins, anger replacing whatever emotions I had at bay. I push him away, hopping off the desk as I shove my skirt down.

  “You were never planning on signing it, were you? You just wanted to see me sweat. You wanted to see if I would actually do this for you!” I wave a hand. “Well, shit, you got your answer.”

  He shrugs.

  “It’s up to you to sign it,” I mutter calmly, but really I’m vibrating with anger inside. “I’m not going to sit around in here, twiddling my thumbs, waiting for you to pick up a pen and put it to paper.”

  I march for my clutch on the couch and then stomp towards the door. I start to swing it open, but his large hand comes down on the heavy oak, shoving it closed. He twists me around so that we are face-to-face.

  His nostrils flare, and his chest presses hard on mine, his hand still pinned on the door, inches away from my head.

  “One thing I won’t allow is your emotions interfering with our work.”

  “Just let me go. Stop wasting my time.”

  He shakes his head, humor riding his lips.

  I narrow my eyes. “This is funny to you?”

  “Yeah, Angelina, it actually is.” His face goes from relaxed to hard and irritated. “It’s funny because you bringing me that contract and giving me exactly what I wanted—including your body—was the start of it. The start of you regaining my trust. What? You think this shit is just going to just rebuild itself over night?”

  I don’t answer. Not because I don’t have anything to say, but because I know he has a lot more to touch on.

  “I trusted you—something I hardly ever do in this fucking business. It only took you a few hours to get me to open up and you abused that by pulling a bullshit contract on me? Did you really think I would be that dumb, huh? Tell me, because I’d really like to know. Do you think I’m an idiot? A pussy-whipped dumbass? Do you think I’m some weak bastard you can toy around with?”

  “No,” I murmur rapidly. “I went off false judgments and assumptions. I—I didn’t know to expect this from you, Griffin. Compassion. Understanding. Hell, a fucking humane side to you. I didn’t know. I figured anyone associated with Jenkins is heartless and cruel. Cold and… purposeless.”

  I press my lips, hating the look on his face. It’s disturbing how distraught he is by this. He takes his trust seriously, and the fact that he’s even facing me right now proves only one thing.

  I mean a lot to him more than he wants to admit.

  God. What the hell have I done? I can’t believe I’ve hurt him this much.

  Why did he even let me? He could have prevented this. He could have denied me, ignored me, and turned me down. Now I kind of wish he had.

  Clasping his face in my hands, I study his eyes as he watches mine. I then bring his mouth down on mine and give every ounce of affection I can in this kiss—every ounce of passion and positive energy.

  I want him to feel me. I want him to forgive me. I want him back—his trust, his fun side, his openness. I need it.

  I don’t want to be like her. I don’t even want him to be able to relate me to her.

  “I’m sorry, Griffin,” I whisper after our lips pull apart. “I really am. I’m so sorry.”

  His eyes are heavy and hooded as he looks me over. “Prove it to me then,” he demands.

  “How?” I ask, looking around the office.

  He points his thumb back towards the sofa, and then steps in the direction of it, casually unbuttoning his suit jacket and then his slacks. He sits down, and watches me as I stand by the door.

  Flipping his wrist and checking his watch, he says, “We have about fifteen more minutes to ourselves. Not the amount of time I desire, but it will have to work.” He cocks his head. “Lock the door.”

  My teeth sink into my bottom lip as I lock it and then walk his way.

  I start to sit, but he shakes his head. “Knees.”

  Blinking rapidly, I watch his finger point to the spot between his legs. I allow air to fill my lungs, bending down and centering myself between his thighs.

  Reaching up, I grab the waist of his slacks and he lifts his hips, aiding my guide. I pull them down until they are puddled around his ankles, and next are his briefs.

  I’m eager to see him, so I pull swiftly until his cock springs free. And what do you know? He’s as hard as a rock, a dribble of cum at the tip.

>   My teeth catch my bottom lip, and suddenly I’m hungry for him.

  “How do you want me to prove it?” I ask.

  “I don’t know.” He shrugs. “You show me.” He glares down at me, watchful of every move I make. I know if I fuck up, if I don’t pull him over with this one, things may not be restored.

  So, I push up on my knees, wrap my hand around the base of his cock, and lick the tip, taking away that drip of cum.

  He doesn’t groan or react. He remains perfectly still. So I lick again, this time suckling on the head while swiveling and pumping the base of his cock.

  It’s that. That is what triggers him. I want to smile badly, knowing he can’t resist me. He can try, but he already knows that I am ambitious and forward, I know most of what he likes, and I need his cock just as badly as I need him inside me.

  I continue the motions, bringing my mouth further down, slightly gagging as he grips my hair and forces my head down.

  I have learned that Griffin can be aggressive. He is a man that knows what he wants and he doesn’t hold back.

  I’ve come to appreciate that about him. Some men switch positions like wild animals, which can get pretty annoying after a while.

  With my hair in his hand, Griffin’s head falls back, eyes squeezed tight, and he grunts and groans, all while I stare up at him, admiring the pleasure that runs across his face, the tension melting off his body.

  He drops his head, bringing my mouth further down until his tip is at the back of my throat, then he pulls back up, and I drop down, gently sucking on his balls.

  “Fuck, Angel,” he groans. “Feels so fucking good.”

  I can’t stop. How can I? His voice is my ammo. His voice always triggers something much naughtier within me.

  I feel him throbbing. Hardening. About to blow his load.

  Before he can, he lifts my head and says, “Get up here and ride me.”

  I unzip my skirt and step out of it, climbing on top of his lap. I straddle him as he unbuttons my shirt, helping me out of it immediately and then tossing it aside, sucking on my nipples as soon as they are free from my bra.

  He glues me to his body, grasping my hips, lifting me up, and sliding me so slowly down his cock that I can’t help the moan the fills the room.

  It’s loud and dangerous, but I don’t care.