Griffin reached out, and her body quivered in anticipation, but he stretched for something behind her.
A condom?
God, she hoped so.
But he came up with a . . . down jacket.
“Here,” he said, and handed it to her, followed by a hat, scarf, and gloves.
All about six sizes too big. “What are we doing?” she asked, disappointed to be putting clothes on instead of taking them off.
He laughed softly, assuring her that he’d read her mind. Then he slung the scarf around her neck and leaned in close to zip the jacket up to her chin. “Gloves,” he ordered.
She slipped into the gloves while he waited. “What about you?” she asked.
“I’m warm-blooded.”
No kidding.
He pulled her out of the car. “It’s like forty degrees,” she said.
“Thirty-five,” he said, lifting his hand like a wolf sniffing the air. “Maybe thirty-six.” He brought her to the back of the truck, opened the tailgate, and then lifted her up to sit. Then he hopped up beside her with ease. He spread out a blanket behind them.
“Okay,” she said on a laugh. “If you think I’m baring any of my very special places out here, you are sorely mistaken.”
He flashed her that devastatingly sexy grin of his. “Special places?” Still grinning, he kissed her. “No,” he murmured against her lips. “No baring of your special places. Close your eyes, Kate. Trust me,” he said when she hesitated.
She closed her eyes.
His hands went to her shoulders, pressing, urging her to lie back. She felt him hover over her for a moment, and her mouth tingled for the touch of his.
Every part of her tingled for his touch.
She could feel the warmth of his breath. The heat of his body. There in the dark they shared air for a few beats, her mouth parting in anticipation, but then he flopped over onto his back at her side and her eyes flew open. She gaped at him, heart racing, body aching. “What was that?”
“A tease.”
“Why?” she demanded.
He laughed low in his throat, sounding very male. “I’m ramping up the anticipation.”
If he ramped it up any more, she wouldn’t need him; she’d simply spontaneously self-combust. “So we’re not going to . . .”
“No.”
He said this so firmly it took her a moment for the word to sink in. “But . . .”
He sat up and opened a backpack she hadn’t even noticed he had. “Hungry?” he asked.
“Yes, but not for food.”
At her grumpy tone, he laughed again. “Be good.”
“I’m not feeling good,” she grumbled. “In fact, I’m feeling decidedly bad.”
“I love it when you’re bad, Kate,” he said. “Love it to the bone, but this isn’t about sex.”
“You’ve got me in the bed of your truck out in the middle of nowhere under the stars,” she pointed out. “What is it about then?”
He didn’t answer at first, just handed her a foil-wrapped something that turned out to be a chicken and cheese burrito from the town diner—her favorite. It was still warm, as was the to-go mug of hot chocolate he handed her next. She took a sip and stared at him. “You added cinnamon.”
“Adam said you like that.”
“You asked Adam what I like?”
Looking a little uncomfortable, he lifted a shoulder, and for some reason that relaxed her a little bit. She wasn’t the only one out of her element here. Something to think about. Later. For now she was going to enjoy this unexpected gift of a fun evening. She took a big bite of her burrito and watched the sky. “You could have skipped all the trouble, you know. I was a sure thing.”
He looked at her for a moment, and then he took a bite of his food. He chewed and swallowed before speaking. “You work your ass off at school, at your dad’s . . . hell, you work your ass off at everything you do so that everyone has what they need—all the time.”
She made a dismissive gesture. It was her life.
“I just wanted you to have a night,” he said. “No responsibilities, nothing on the agenda. Just an easy, no-strings-attached, fun time.”
She stared at him, touched. “Thank you,” she said, voice husky with the emotion clogging her throat.
He lifted a shoulder, clearly not wanting to discuss it. She took another bite of her burrito. It was heavenly. So was the company.
“So,” he said, waiting until her mouth was full. “A sure thing, huh?”
She choked, and he laughed.
“Maybe that was too broad a statement,” she said, swiping her mouth.
“Oh no, you can’t take it back now, Ms. Evans.” His eyes were dark and full of wicked trouble.
“Fine,” she admitted. “I was hoping for . . .” She lowered her voice. “Another round.”
“Of what?”
She blushed and he looked vastly amused. “Kate, I’ve had my mouth on every inch of your body. You’ve had your mouth on my—”
She covered his mouth with her hand, and he laughed, pulling free. “You should be able to say what you want me to do to you.”
“It’s the teacher in me,” she said. “I get used to second-grade speak, which does not involve a lot of sexy talk. I have to be really careful.” She slid him a look. “Which must be a world away from your world.”
“I don’t know,” he said. “Sometimes my world involves a whole lot of being careful, too.”
She looked at his scar and lost a bit of her appetite. Yeah, he had experience with needing to be careful. “Except in your world, there’s a lot higher stakes than teaching a kid a bad word.”
He shrugged at the truth of that.
“You ever think about what happened?” she asked quietly.
“You mean about what almost happened?” He shook his head. “Other than being grateful that I’m still breathing, no. I try not to.”
She’d finished eating, so he took the foil from her hands and tossed it into the backpack. Then he quite possibly cemented a place in her heart when he pulled out a bag of cookies. They were heaven, and she didn’t realize she was hogging them until he said, “If I reach for one, am I putting my fingers at risk?”
“No.” She laughed. “I can share.” She handed him a single cookie, making him laugh.
“I like food,” she said unapologetically. “Even though the sheer quantity of what I consumed is going to make my stomach rumble.”
“Because it’s regenerating its lining,” he said, still grinning. “Like it does every two weeks.”
“Are you mocking me?”
“No. I like your science facts, Ms. Evans. I like them very much.”
“Come on,” she said doubtfully.
“I really do. Got any facts about cookies?”
“Yes, actually,” she said smugly. “The average person eats about thirty-five thousand of them in their lifetime.”
He looked impressed. “No shit?”
“Well,” she said. “That’s average, you understand. I single-handedly decimate the equation.”
He laughed again, and she smiled at him. “I love the sound of your laugh,” she said. “And I loved tonight. Thanks for doing this, Griffin, for giving me a late-night picnic in the mountains. It’s been so nice.”
“Nice?”
“Well, yes.” She took in his grimace. “What’s wrong with nice?”
“I was hoping for a better adjective.”
“Fun. Exciting,” she said. “New.”
He met her gaze. “No one’s ever taken you on a late-night picnic before?”
“No.”
“Never?”
“Never.”
He took her drink out of her hands. “Close your eyes like before.”
“Why?”
He just waited, and she sighed and closed her eyes. Then once again he laid her back.
“What are we doing?” she asked, feeling him lie down beside her.
“You can open your eyes now.”
She blinked and stared up at the most magnificent, amazing night sky she’d ever seen. Black velvet scattered with millions, trillions, of diamonds. “Wow,” she whispered.
* * *
“Yeah,” Grif said, coming up on an elbow to soak up the sight of Kate, face tilted up to the sky, expression rapt and full of wonder. “Wow.”
She nudged him with her shoulder. “Stop. I’m not really a wow kind of woman.”
“Yes you are,” he said, leaning over her.
She sucked in a breath with that beautiful mouth, her lips parting in anticipation.
Just a taste, he told himself. That’s all. You’re keeping this fun. Light. Easy.
Nothing more.
Even knowing he was full of shit and asking for trouble, he held her gaze with his own as he lowered his mouth to hers.
It was far too easy.
God so easy.
Because this was Kate, sweet, soft, trusting Kate, whose hands were clutching his biceps, her breath halted in her chest.
She was so sweet he ached. “Kate,” he whispered, then he touched his lips to hers again, forcing himself to take his time, to savor every single heartbeat, because this was it, this was all he was going to take from her.
But then a quiet moan escaped her and her hands tightened on him.
She wanted more, too.
She was dangerous. More dangerous than anything he’d ever faced. The feel of her curvy body beneath him, the scent of her skin . . . He’d kissed lots of women, but over time they’d all ran together in his head.
Not Kate Evans.
With Kate he remembered each and every look, each and every touch. Each and every kiss. And this one, here with her under a million stars was a world-class kiss. He was already hard. Hell, he’d been hard since he set her on the tailgate—but he wasn’t going to get any relief tonight. This was just about her tonight.
Not him.
Still, he groaned when she pressed herself up into him, with a soft sound from deep in her throat that shot need straight through him. Trying to get even closer, she tightened her grip, like she wanted to crawl inside him. Knowing he had to stop this now before he took it too far killed him. “Kate.”
In answer, she nipped at his bottom lip and then sucked it into her mouth.
Damn, she was no help at all. She had her tongue down his throat, her knee sliding up the length of his thigh so that she was open to him, her hands beneath his shirt, and oh Jesus, they were heading south, her fingers running along the button fly of his jeans. He thrust helplessly into her palm before he ruthlessly clamped down on the hunger roaring through him, desperately trying to access his common sense.
She popped open the top button and was going for the next before he managed to catch her hand. “No,” he said, his voice low and raspy.
She blew a strand of hair from her face. “No?”
“This is about you, about showing you a good time.”
“Yes,” she said. “And I was just getting to the good-time part.”
He laughed and dropped his head to her shoulder. “This is about you, Kate,” he repeated.
She stared up at him, her eyes twin pools of mystery. “So you’re only going to . . . give?”
“Yes.”
“And I’m supposed to just take it?”
“Yes.”
His voice was a little rough, but he couldn’t help it. She stared at his mouth as if she liked the sound of him like that, a little out of control. And then she lay back, legs and arms spread, looking like some sort of jean-clad goddess beneath the starlight. “Well then, get to it,” she said.
Oh Jesus. Yeah. It was official. She was going to be the death of him.
When he didn’t touch her, she opened one eye and looked at him, and then she narrowed her eyes as she got it. “Are you kidding me? Why did you get me all worked up then?”
He considered her lush, gorgeous, prone body. “You’re worked up?”
“Very!”
“You should tell me about it. Slowly and in great detail.”
She stared up at him and then closed her eyes again, lying back all trusting. “You know so much, figure it out for yourself.”
He was smiling when he kissed her this time. Smiling. He couldn’t remember smiling while kissing a woman before. But then again, everything with Kate was either a surprise or new. He was the most jaded, cynical bastard he knew.
Except with her.
Twenty-one
Kate smiled when she felt Griffin’s mouth cover hers, but the smile was short-lived because he kissed her with devastating care and seriousness, and oh Lord, the man could kiss. He had her panting in seconds. Rocking up, she tried to wrap her arms around him, but he took her wrists and held them over her head, pinning her body with his.
“Don’t move,” he said.
His commanding tone caused a very secret little thrill. “I’m not very good at following orders,” she whispered.
“Move, and I stop getting you worked up.”
His stern expression started a slow burn deep in her belly. “Well, hurry up and get back to it, then,” she said.
“Still trust me?” he asked again.
“Yes.”
He held her gaze for a long beat and then bent to her. Still holding her wrists pinned over her head, his warm breath tickled her ear as his teeth nipped her earlobe. Then his lips slid down her throat as he peeled open the jacket and slid a hand beneath her sweater.
The slow burn in her belly spread both north and south with shocking speed. Did she trust him? With her life? Yes. With her body? Yes.