Chapter Ten
“Yes,”Beverly cried as Griffin thrust inside of her, deeper and deeper, the rhythm of their lovemaking building until her entire being balanced on the precipice. And the, when one final thrust, he sent them both tumbling over, their bodies shattering, the pieces spreading out to join the stars and the moon and the planets.
“Oh, God,” she murmured as he collapsed on top of her, and she trailed her fingers idly over the now-familiar rough ridges of his scarred back and shoulder. “Now that was the best show of tonight,” she said. “Definitely knocks Crypto out of the running. And,” she added, sliding out from under him so that she could stretch out beside him, “although I loved seeing you in that suit, I definitely like this better.”
She reached out again, gently tracing the jagged, discolored line that marked the border between the semi-successful skin grafts on the right side of his torso and the rest of his skin.
She relished these moments when he let her explore his body. Relaxing under her touch even when she traced the burn scars. She wanted the intimacy. Wanted to know him as intimately as she knew herself. And when he let her do this, it filled her heart with the knowledge that they really were on the right path.
“Beverly…”
She bent to kiss him, hiding her smile. At least he’d given her a few cherished moments.
“It’s part of who you are, Griffin,” she said, honoring his wishes by pulling her hand away, but not willing to back away from the conversation. “This skin, this body. It's been with you since you were twelve. I love the man, Griffin. And the man has always had this cross to bear.”
“Love?” His eyes were wide, full of something akin to wonder, and the full impact of what she’d said struck her.
“I—I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”
He held her gaze. “But is it true?”
She licked her lips. “I think so. I—yes. It’s true. But it’s still new. Fragile. And I’m not someone who believes that love solves everything.”
She drew a breath, then rolled off him, curling up at his side so she had to tilt her head to see his face.
“In that case, what do you believe?” he asked.
She considered not answering. Saving this conversation for later. Things were moving fast with them, after all. Maybe too fast.
Then again, they’d been friends for months and had spent hours side by side as they worked on the script. She knew what she knew. What she felt.
She only hoped that he felt the same way. “I want to try,” she said. “I want to make this work. I think I’ve wanted that from the first moment I met you. Maybe before. When I saw your heart poured out in your work.”
He rolled over to face her, then took her hand and slowly lifted it to his lips. “I love you, too,” he said, his smile spreading slowly, just as hers did.
With a deep sigh of happiness, she moved onto her back, her hand still tight in his. “Can we just stay like this all week? Or do I really have to do all those interviews?”
“I’ve got your back,” he promised. “And every night you’ve got me in this bed.”
Laughing, she turned her head. “I can live with that.” She started to roll over when her phone rang. “Hold that thought,” she ordered, then sat up and grabbed it off the side table. “Evelyn,” she told him. “She probably wants a summary of today since she’s stuck in New York.”
“Hey,” she said after answering. “It went well. I’m sorry you’re out of town.”
“Then you haven’t seen.”
Beverly sat up straighter, her brow furrowed as she turned to Griffin. “Seen what?” She raised her brows, silently asking Griffin if he had a clue. He shook his head.
“I’ll text it to you,” Evelyn said. A second later, Beverly’s phone pinged.
She put the call on speaker so she could see the screen.
“Breakfast tomorrow, Bev. We’ll talk about how to dodge questions about who your mystery man is.”
“Mystery man?” Griff repeated, climbing to his knees so he could see the screen too. Beverly hesitated, then tapped the phone. Immediately, an image filled the screen. Beverly herself, her eyes closed, her expression rapturous. And the back of a costumed Griffin, leaning in for a kiss, the shot taken at just the right angle to show Griffin’s hand sliding up her thigh, but thankfully not so high to make the image NSFW.
The headline, of course, was the kicker: Sexy Plunder. Who is Martin’s Masked Marauder?
And that, she knew, was the question that everyone was going to be asking.