Made Marian, Volume Two by Lucy Lennox
Griff
The man was six feet of straight-up sex appeal. With his arms wrapped around me, his scent in my nose, and his lips on my earlobe, I could have come right there without anyone touching my cock. A deep vibration moved through his chest.
“Green,” Sam rumbled between breaths.
“Hmm?” I drawled as I preened under his attentions to my ear.
“Your eyes. Lime green. Fucking gorgeous,” he murmured, still nibbling on my ear.
Something warm swirled in my stomach, and I turned my head to brush my lips over his temple. “Mmm, feels so good, Sam. It’s been too long.” I talked without thinking, but something I said made him freeze up.
Sam pulled back with furrowed brows. “What, like twenty minutes?” he asked, stepping away and crossing his arms. He might as well have turned a cold hose on me.
“What?” I asked.
“You went home with that blond guy two hours ago, and now you’re saying it’s been too long? Just how needy are you? Never mind. I have to go close up.” Sam turned back toward the back door of the club.
“What the hell? Wait, Sam. Let me explain about that guy,” I called out to his back. He held up his hand in a don’t bother gesture as he grabbed the handle of the door. I called out to him one last time. “I haven’t hooked up with anyone in months, jackass.”
The door slammed as I turned and walked away. The sting of his rejection tamped down any confidence I may have had. If he didn’t want me because he thought I was easy, then so be it. I didn’t need to justify myself to anyone. I was fine on my own. And if he couldn’t handle the idea of me picking up a few men in a club, then he sure as hell would never understand some of the things I did when I was younger. Fuck him.
He must have stopped and turned back around. “Griff, wait. I’m sorry,” Sam called back to me. “Please explain.”
I shot him the bird over my shoulder as I continued walking. I knew he couldn’t come after me because he was still on the clock. I made it all the way back to my apartment before I let myself feel the raw sting of his words. One word in particular. If there was one thing I vowed to never be again as long as I lived, it was needy.
I didn’t need shit from anyone. For more than fourteen years I’d tried to be reliant on only myself. Never would I let someone think I needed them. Never. Needing someone meant handing them the power to hurt you when they walked away. Forget it. No, thanks.
After my parents, the only people I’d ever let in were the Marians, and it took years before I’d allowed them into my heart. I even fought the adoption at first because I’d be damned if I’d allow another family to disappoint me like my own had. But after three solid years of Mom and Dad Marian showing up and loving on me despite my prickly outer shell, I finally caved. Once I became a part of their family, I realized my very definition of family had been perverted by my biological family. True family was there for you whether or not you needed them.
And, yes, I would go so far as to say I needed them now. I needed the Marians in my life. But there were almost twenty of them, so I had all the love I needed. Sure, I could use a regular partner for sex and fun, but loving and making myself vulnerable for someone new? Nope. Forget it. Never mind.
After I returned to my apartment, I stepped in the shower and wallowed in my hurt feelings as the hot water pounded my shoulders. Sam thought I was pretty much a whore, which hurt worse than it should have. I had busted my ass when I lived on the streets to make sure I’d never have to suck some stranger off for money. I did shitty stuff when I needed to, but I never, not once, had sex with someone for cash.
I scrubbed myself clean and dried off with a thick towel before falling into bed. I didn’t think I was going to be able to show up at the club again the following night. Even though I needed more subjects for my article, I just couldn’t bear the thought of trying to pick up another stranger in front of Sam, knowing what he thought of me.
I fell asleep with the stress of the article on my mind, the sting of rejection on my heart, and the memory of Sam’s soft lips on my own.
