Made Marian, Volume Two by Lucy Lennox
Griff
I couldn’t stop myself from wanting Sam Coxwell. He was all I could think about regardless of what had happened between the two of us when we argued in the parking lot.
After the older man propositioned me, and we walked out of the club together, I did my usual closing conversation where I asked him if it bothered him when people used terms of endearment. He looked at me like I was crazy.
“Fuck, man. I don’t care what comes out of your mouth as long as my dick goes into it,” he said with a laugh. I realized he was drunker than I’d originally thought.
“Thanks for the feedback.” I smiled. “I’m going to have to take a pass tonight though.”
“What? Why? Let’s go have some fun,” he said with a smirk.
“No, thanks. I’m still a virgin, and I’m having cold feet,” I joked.
His face lit up at the fake news. “Oh. Well then, gorgeous, let me take you home and make your first time extra special. I’ll take good care of you,” he promised with a gleam in his eye that gave me the shivers.
“Umm, no. G’night,” I said before returning into the club and making my way to the back corridor. That poor man outside probably wouldn’t be able to follow through on his promise of sex anyway, if his whiskey breath was any indication of his intoxication level.
I poked my head into the employee lounge and found Sam leaning back on the sofa with his arms crossed over his face. I couldn’t tell if he was sleeping or not, but I could see a tantalizing strip of his abs and happy trail where his shirt rode up. My tongue ached to explore it.
Part of me wanted so badly to approach him. Just sneak up and straddle his lap. But I still couldn’t quite get past the sting of his words the night before. It was almost like he’d dangled this wonderful carrot in front of me and when I reached for it, snatched it away. The last thing I needed was someone who toyed with me.
I snuck back out and turned to leave, so caught up in my own inner conflict over Sam I didn’t see the older man from the bar follow me out. As I turned the last corner to my apartment I heard him approach.
“What were you doing back there in the employee lounge?” he accused with a drunken grin on his face.
“What?” I said, turning around to stare at him. “None of your damned business. Why are you following me?”
“You promised me some fun tonight and I’m here to play. Surely you didn’t think you could dangle your virginity in front of my face without tempting me a little past self-control, did you? That ass has been begging for me all night.”
“No, it definitely hasn’t. I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not a virgin nor am I interested.”
“Oh sure you are. If you want to play a little hard to get, that’s fine by me.” He grinned.
As he spoke, he came closer to me and I backed away, holding one arm out in front of me while reaching for my phone with the other. I would have laughed at the drunken threat if the man hadn’t been taller than I was and packed with dense muscle.
He was on me before I could get my phone free of my pocket. The device fell to the pavement, and my other hand got caught between us as the man went for my mouth. His lips descended on mine, all probing tongue and scratching cheeks. He reeked and tasted of alcohol. Recoiling in disgust, I tried pushing him off me.
We scuffled on the pavement as he laughed and shoved his hard-on against my crotch before thrusting one of his legs between mine.
“This your place?” he mumbled against my neck. Luckily, we were in front of a building three doors down from my own. I didn’t answer him.
His hand reached down and started fumbling for my belt.
“Get the hell off me!” I yelled. “What the fuck, man? You seriously think I want some drunk stranger fucking me in the street?” My voice was a little hysterical, but I didn’t think I was in as much danger as I could have been if he hadn’t been so drunk.
He stumbled and almost knocked me down, accidentally elbowing me hard in the rib cage. I lost my balance, but he grabbed for me to keep me from falling. While I steadied myself, he pushed me face-first into the brick of the building next to us. He laughed in my ear. “Come on, kid, it’ll be fun, I promise. Where’s your place?” He reached around and fumbled for my belt again, managing to get it undone and pop open the top button of my fly.
His words kept coming out as if this was seriously going to be a fun hookup. He seemed to think I was into it.
I elbowed him and spun around, kneeing him in the nuts and then kicking out, only landing a partial blow to his thigh. He grabbed at the hem of my shirt before his leg buckled under him, my T-shirt ripping as he fell. I jumped away from him and started jogging farther along the street, reaching down to grab my phone from where it had fallen.
I didn’t want to go to my building and show him where I lived, so I dialed 911 with shaky hands. After I explained what was happening to the operator, the man took off, stumbling and cursing. When he was out of sight, I told the operator he was gone and I didn’t have any information on him other than the first name of Jeff he’d given me at the club.
When she offered to send a patrol car to take my statement, I told her not to bother.
I trudged up to the front door of my apartment building and tried to fit the right key into the lock. It took me a few tries before I got it. Just as I pushed open the door I heard a familiar voice calling from a few doors down.
“Griff, wait up,” Sam said, jogging the last bit and bouncing up the few stairs to where I stood. As he took in the sight of me his smile fell and his face paled.
“Fox, what the hell happened?” The term of endearment spoken in his sweet voice almost caused my knees to buckle. I lurched toward him and felt his arms come up around me. After a minute of holding me tightly, he said, “Let’s get you inside. Your face is all scratched up, and you’re bleeding.”
I handed him my keys and pulled off the rest of my ripped T-shirt, using it to hold against my cheek to try and stop the bleeding. I noticed blood on the shoulder of his Harry Dick’s T-shirt and the skin of his neck.
“For what it’s worth,” I mumbled under the balled-up fabric, “I’m negative. Sorry I’m bleeding on you.”
“I’m not worried about the blood, Griff. I’m worried about what happened to you.”
Sam kissed my temple and slipped an arm around me while we walked up to my apartment door. I pointed out which key to use and he let us in.
After I lay down on the sofa and told him to help himself to whatever, I explained what happened. He found a clean dishcloth and wet it in the sink before coming to kneel on the floor next to me.
“That jackass followed you home?” he snapped, pulling the bloody shirt out of my hands and wiping my face gently with the damp towel. He wiped the cloth down my neck and followed the blood smears down my chest. That must have been when he realized my belt was undone. I thought he was going to faint. His face went white, and he snapped his eyes to mine.
“Griff…” he whispered, concern etched in his forehead. “Did he…? What else did he do?”
