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My eyes shoot to the front porch, through the big windows that overlook it. Billie is still talking at Griffin. But Griffin is looking at me.
Wildflower. She doesn’t want to be tamed, and I shouldn’t want to try this badly. I should steer her in the opposite direction and send her running.
“Hands off if you plan on keeping them.” Griffin’s voice rumbles from behind me.
“Call me Griffy again, and I’ll spank you like the little brat that you are.”
“You know what I deserve?” His irises dance across my face. “Someone who needs me badly enough to take me without apology. A man who knows what he wants. A man who wants me.” He nods, pulse jumping in his neck. “And do you know what you deserve?” “What?” “A woman who feels like a goddess when you leave a mark like this on her. A woman who doesn’t want a goddamn thing from you other than to be worshipped any time, any place.” The intense way he’s staring at me almost makes me squirm. “You deserve a woman who drives you crazy every damn day, and nothing less.”
“I like all your words, Griffin. It’s what you don’t say that kills me.”
“I thought you looked like you needed to be handled by a real man. By me.” I nip at her ear, loving the feel of her fingers tangling in my hair, like she wants to keep me close. “I thought you looked like you were supposed to be mine.”
“We’re playing the game where I fuck your tight little cunt like I’ve dreamt about since the first time I laid eyes on you. We’re not making love. I’m not being gentle. We’re fucking. And you’re going to take it like the good girl you are.”
“I’ll give you all my right nows, Nadia. Every fucking last one. I’ll give you anything you want. I’ve been powerless since the first time I laid eyes on you.”
The one facing the field of flowers. She’s sitting in the very middle of it, head down, furiously scribbling in her journal. I wish again that I could take a photo of her sitting out there, so immersed in doing what she knows she needs for herself. The wildflower I can’t get rid of no matter what I try.
“I think in some cases, age is just a way to measure the number of years you spent without the person meant for you.”
