“Which we should,” he grumbles between kisses.
Another sigh. “We have to keep it professional.” Hearing him groan in distaste, she frowns and pulls back. She places two fingers beneath his chin, raising his face up to meet her eyes. “I mean it, Griff. I worked so hard for this and I don’t ever want to go back—”
“I understand.”
His tone is serious because her eyes are worried. She’s been working so damn hard to fix her reputation and the last thing he wants to do is hurt her. Ruining things for her ain’t an option.
“No one can know about us. None of ...” Her eyes flutter as he lightly twists her nipple through the lace of her bra. “Of this, onstage.”
“So what you’re telling me is only in the shadows?”
“Griff ...”
Her head falls back as he drags the cup of her bra down to expose one perfect, pink nipple.
He grins. “Sounds illicit. I like it.”
A half truth. He wants nothing more than to show Alabama off to the world, but he’s willing to wait for her. It’s her pace, her choice, and he’ll follow her blind down that path wherever it leads.
Hooking an arm around her slim waist, he pins her to his chest and reclines back onto the couch. Alabama, on top of him, pushes herself up to look at him. “We keep it casual, too,” she says. “No stayin’ overnight. Or hangin’ out together. Nothin’ serious. We can’t be serious ...”
He gawks at her. “Goddamn, woman, you got some demands, don’t you?”
She nips at his lips. “And you’ll go along with all of them.”
“Gladly,” he murmurs. His dick aching with want, he presses himself against her.
Alabama gasps, then shivers at his hardness. “You’re a horndog, Griff.”
“A horndog for you. Only you.” He groans when he feels Alabama’s hand sliding down his thighs.
Alabama unzips his jeans. “You’ve been good.”
“So damn good,” he says breathlessly. He can’t help his throbbing cock, the drop of his jaw, the pant of his breath, when he sees where this is headed. “I told you, Al, the only one I’ve been touchin’ these days is me, myself and I.”
“Really.”
He moans when she wraps a hand around his cock and strokes.
“You,” he whispers, devouring her mouth. “Is who I want.”
Alabama’s laugh rings out. “Good lord, Griff. What’re we doing? Neckin’ in shadows like we used to when we were teenagers? Hidin’ from the adults? Hand jobs and blow jobs?”
Griff grins and presses a kiss to her lips. “Sweetheart, that’s goddamn right.”
Her eyes flash appreciatively. Griff settles back and closes his eyes, losing himself in the sensation as Alabama slips down his legs and takes him in her mouth.
Just like the good ol’ days.