His head flips my direction, startled. But instead of saying anything, he stares at me. Smolders. Glares. I don’t know what it is exactly, but it makes me weak in the knees. It makes me red in the cheeks. It makes me wet in the panties. “I . . . Um . . . Riding lesson tomorrow?” His cheeks are pink with exertion and his cum-covered cock is still in his hand, and that’s what I say? I’m not nearly as smooth as I think I am and just looking at Griffin kills my brain cells on the best of days.
