Griffin
It’s late. So late that it’s early.
You wouldn’t know that given how lively the city is. As I step out of the cab, my eyes instinctively look up to the windows of my flat. The lights are on, which likely means that my gorgeous companion is still awake.
A smile creeps at my lips.
You’re a bad, bad man Griffin Abernathy.
I slip into the shadows of the alley besides the building. There are no lights here to illuminate my presence. Here, the darkness embraces me like a lover.
I begin my ascent of the side of the wall. It’s hardly the most difficult climb I’ve ever done, but I’m admittedly being more careful with this climb than I need to be.
I don’t want to risk alerting my prey on my approach.
My feet find ground on the ledge, beside the window to my kitchen.
Cautiously, I peek around the edge for any sight of Kalista.
With no view of her, I slowly open the window and slip inside.
I make sure to close the window behind me—to prevent any arousal of suspicion, in case she walks by—and take shelter behind the large island in the middle of the room.
I close my eyes and focus on listening to footfalls against the hardwood floor.
Her soft steps as she moves across the floor reach my ears. From my current position, I can tell that she is in the sitting room.
Silently as the Grim Reaper himself, I move through my home.
I know this place, as intimately as I can know a lover. I know just where to step, and how to avoid detection. Kalista has absolutely no chance in knowing that I’m coming for her.
It’s unfair—and almost cruel—at how handicapped she is. It almost takes the fun out of it.
Almost.
I take position behind her, hidden by the wall of the hallway, and peer at her from around the side.
The beautiful heiress is dressed in a baby blue nightgown of silk that hugs her every curve. My eyes linger at how the fabric clings to her round arse.
Thoughts of sliding the fabric up her bare skin, and bending her over a chair fill my mind. Thoughts of my hands holding her in place, as my tongue licked and sucked at her clit from behind. Thoughts of feeling her tremble at my touch and caress.
It’s not the first time I’ve had such thoughts about her.
On more than one occasion, I’ve fantasized about taking her to bed and stealing climax after climax from her. I’ve caught the way she looks at me when she thinks I don’t notice. I know she’s had the same delicious thoughts I’ve had.
Slowly, I step out from behind the wall and move toward her.
I reach out for her once I’m within arm’s reach. My hand just barely grazes over her bare shoulder, when she yells with fright.
My smile threatens to engulf my face until she turns around, and swings at me with one of my foils. The sharp blade slices through the fabric of my shirt rather easily. Her force behind the swing is most impressive. Luckily for me, I was able to put enough distance between us so that the weapon didn’t pierce my flesh.
Not that she needs to know that.
My hand clutches as my stomach. My face turns to a wince of pain, as a low groan slips from my lips.
Kalista drops the foil to the floor.
Her hands cover her face. Her striking blue eyes widen out of fear and concern.
“Oh my God! I’m so sorry!” she exclaims in a panic.
I really should’ve been an actor. Perhaps, I missed my true calling.
“Tis but a scratch, really,” I say through the fake pain that I’m in.
“Here, let’s get this off so we can get this looked at.”
Together, we raise my shirt over my head.
Her hands fall to my hard stomach as she searches for a wound.
It takes Kalista all of two seconds to realize I’m unharmed, but her hands linger against my body.
I can see the same look in her eyes that was no doubt in mine only moments before.
She bites down on her bottom lip and looks up into my eyes.
There’s something in her look that makes every muscle in my chest and torso clench with anticipation. I have met many beautiful women in my adventures, but none have ever gotten this kind of response out of me.
The raven-haired beauty slides her hands along the groove of my abs for another couple of seconds before she realizes what she’s doing.
Then her brow furrows, and she smacks me several times in the chest and arm.
“You asshole! I thought I had actually fucking cut you,” she yells.
I’d defend myself, but I’m too busy laughing at her reaction.
“So does this mean you care?” I tease.
“Care? About you? Fuck, no. Only reason I don’t pick up that foil and skewer you is because I don’t want to go to prison.”
She hits me one last time—likely for good measure—and retrieves the fallen foil from the floor.
“You know, those things are sharp. You shouldn’t be playing with them,” I jokingly chide.
“I’m more than capable of using this,” she counters with an unimpressed gaze.
“Uh huh, I’m sure. Maybe tomorrow I’ll give you some proper instruction.”
I lean down to grab my shirt, and she jabs the blade through the fabric and pins it to the floor. My eyes look up at her, and immediately, I notice her stance. It’s proper and downright flawless.
“I’ve had the proper instruction since I was seven,” she informs me confidently.
I believe her, and I can’t help but wonder just what other surprises she’s hiding up her sleeve.
“Now, what makes you think I was talking about fencing?”
The left side of my lips curl upward into a grin, and my gaze journeys the length of her legs.
I catch the soft flush of her cheeks, and she takes a step back.
“Yeah, well, keep dreaming there, Posh Spice.”
“Posh Spice, hmm? I can get behind that. The woman is a national treasure after all.”
Her eyes narrow at me once more. I can’t tell if she wants to stab me or kiss me. And at this point, I’ve certainly earned both.
I hold out my hand for the foil. It’s best I take it before she actually does decide to skewer me like a sexy kebab.
She hands it over.
“What are you doing up, anyway?”
“I couldn’t sleep. And I was worried.”
“About me?” I ask sarcastically.
“You wish,” she tells me with a smirk.
“Well, you should go get some more rest. You’re going to need it for the days to come.”
There’s a glimmer of playfulness and curiosity in her eyes at my words.
“What? Why?”
“Oh, you’ll see. But for now, you should get your sleep.”
She pouts and folds her arms over her chest.
Playing with Kalista is more fun than I thought it was going to be. But that’s because she can keep up and give as good as she gets.
“Fine, but tomorrow I want details,” she says with demanding tone.
“We’ll see. Did you want me to come tuck you in?”
“Not in this lifetime,” she counters.
My gaze lingers on how the silk fabric sways over her skin as she walks away. It’s as if the nightgown has a mind of its own that enjoys teasing me—and my cock.
“And stop gawking at my ass,” she says with a stifled laugh.
I lick my lips as they twist into a smirk.
“I don’t ‘gawk.’ I appreciate.”
“Uh huh. Good night, Posh Spice.”
“Again, not an insult.”
“Don’t care.”
I hear the closing of the guest room’s door.
As I’m left standing in the room—shirtless with a sword in hand—I can’t help but think Kalista just might be the death of me.