Neanderthal by Avery Flynn

Chapter Thirty-Four

Kinsey

Kinsey was still blissed out on cheese-and-onion enchiladas with table-side guac—a blessing upon whoever mixed cheese, onion, corn tortillas, and salsa verde for the first time—as she and Morgan walked from Pablo’s to their building. Gone was the tension that had tightened her shoulders to the point of a throbbing pain that had started when Gavin called her into his office and announced without explanation that she’d be working with him on the secret new product Archambeau was developing. It sounded like the opportunity of a lifetime and felt like a trap after the in-your-face threats the day before. The man needed to decide a tactic because she had shit to do, and unwinding his no-doubt ulterior motives was taking up brain space that could be used for better things.

Like the way it had felt to wake up that morning with Griff’s sheets tucked in tight around her, as if he’d made sure she was snuggled in before he’d gotten in the shower.

Okay, fine, she should have been—and was—working out the possibilities of the new product, but she was also unraveling what Gavin was up to, because he sure hadn’t given her this spot out of the goodness of his nonexistent heart.

By the time she walked out of the lab at the end of the day, her shoulders were up by her earlobes and her upper back was in one long, never-ending clench. Morgan had taken one look at her and ordered a pitcher of margaritas. Then, instead of interrogating Kinsey about her night with Griff, she’d cracked jokes about the awfulness of dating in Harbor City and why her one true love was her Kokuyo Jibun Techo Lite Diary in pink, which she’d bought in bulk just in case they ever stopped making them. That, of course, got them on a long-winded discussion of planner stickers, the best gel pens, and the best organizational system for it all.

Their arm-in-arm giggly walk home two hours later was the end result of that delicious mix of tequila, orange liqueur, and lime juice with the perfect amount of salt on the rim served with the best enchiladas to be had in Harbor City while diving deep into their planner nerddom.

“You know,” Kinsey said as they turned onto their block. “You’re pretty damn awesome.”

“Right back at you, babe,” Morgan said as they took a left onto Fourteenth Avenue. “But don’t think that just because I took pity on you after you obviously had a shit day at work—which we do not talk about because you work for the competition, blah, blah, blah”—she rolled her eyes while swerving around a slow-walking tourist like only a Harbor City native could—“doesn’t mean that now we are not going to discuss you and my big brother.”

“There’s nothing to discuss,” Kinsey said before thanking Oswald the doorman when he swung open the large glass doors to the building for them.

She made it two steps inside the lobby before she spotted Griff at the penthouse elevator and her feet decided to stop working.

Morgan shot her a questioning look. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” she managed to get out as she forced her right foot in front of her left as her heart hammered against her ribs.

That’s when Morgan looked over and spotted her brother and a knowing grin broke out on her face. “I can’t wait until we’re officially sisters.”

“That’s not gonna happen,” she said, even as her brain started rolling through the possibilities. “It’s just for the bet. I’m concentrating on work. He’s your brother.”

Morgan chuckled and linked her arm through Kinsey’s and tugged her toward the elevator. “Whatever you say, sis.”

Griff still had his back to them, his broad shoulders pulling his suit jacket taut across his shoulders and his dark wavy hair brushing the top of his collar. The memory of feeling his soft hair combined with the hard bristles of his beard against her thighs as he ate her out last night sent a tidal wave of hot desire through her. She pressed her fingers to her suddenly warm cheeks and tried to remember all the reasons why she shouldn’t be reacting like this to Griff Beckett and coming up with only white noise.

The elevator door opened and he walked inside, not seeing her until he turned around. His eyes widened with shock before he reached out and blocked the doors from closing with one large hand, the move tugging his shirt cuff back and revealing the tattoos on his arms. Her heart quickened. There was just something about all the different layers to Griff Beckett that made her want to peel them all back so she could work out the answer to who he really was. The science nerd? The guy who obviously loved his sister and cousins? The tatted-up boxer? The Neanderthal who grunted more than he talked? The hottest man she’d ever fucked in her life who made her come harder than she ever had, alone or with a partner? There were so many possibilities that figuring out the answer could take a lifetime.

“Oh, hey, Griff,” Morgan said, as if they hadn’t spotted him from across the lobby. Then she planted her hand on the small of Kinsey’s back and gave her a quick shove that sent her into the elevator.

Griff released his hold on the door to catch her before she went face-first into the elevator’s back wall, bringing her up tight against him, his touch sending shivers of pleasure across her skin.

“I’m taking the stairs,” Morgan said. “You kids be good.”

Kinsey couldn’t get her brain to function well when he was touching her like this and the first thought she had just popped out. “It’s thirty floors.”

“Gotta love cardio day.” She winked at them and gave them a jaunty little finger wave as the elevator doors closed.

Neither Griff nor Kinsey said anything for the first ten floors. Kinsey just stayed there glued to his side, his hand leaving a flaming-hot imprint on her side, as she used all of her self control not to flip the emergency stop switch and yank all of Griff’s clothes off, security camera be damned. At about the eleventh floor, he did a sidestep thing that resulted in her being in front of him, her ass pressed against him, with his hands light on her hips. The harsh breath he let out was completely indecent, and she would have sold her soul to hear it again. So she took a half step back and did a little upward-wave motion with her ass against him. He didn’t make a sound—she wasn’t even sure if he was still breathing—but his grip tightened on her hips, holding her there against his hard length.

Anticipation licked at her skin as she watched the floor numbers light up.

Twelve.

Fourteen.

Fifteen.

Griff dipped his head down, his lips brushing the shell of her ear so softly, she questioned whether it had happened at all.

“You left this morning without saying goodbye,” he said, his words barely above a whisper. He slid one hand from her hip down toward the hem of her circle skirt and tugged it higher. “That wasn’t very nice.”

If she could have spoken, she would have, but the light touch of his fingertips on the outside of her bare thigh had short-wired her brain. It was pleasure. It was torture. It was everything she wanted and not even close to all she wanted. She bit down on her bottom lip as lust took over, melting her against him as she watched the floors go by.

Nineteen.

Twenty.

Twenty-one.

Under her skirt, hidden from the prying eyes of the camera, his fingers skimmed across her thigh and then moved upward inch by gloriously teasing inch until he was at the edge of her panties. He didn’t ask. She didn’t think about it; she just spread her legs in a silent plea.

Twenty-five.

Her pulse was raging.

Twenty-six.

She was ready to straight-up beg.

Twenty-seven.

He eased underneath the elastic and slid his fingers through her slick folds. The grateful moan escaped before she could stop it.

Twenty-eight.

He dipped inside her, stretching her. She let her head fall back against his chest, not caring about the camera, about why she shouldn’t be doing this again, about anything but Griff and how he was making her feel at that moment.

Twenty-nine.

Pulling out, he circled her clit once, twice, three times, so slow and controlled. She let out a gasp of pleasure, arching her hips against his soft touch.

Thirty.

He withdrew, taking his hand out from beneath her skirt, and took a step back as the elevator doors opened. While she was still trying to catch her breath and bring her brain back online, he stepped around her and out into the hallway.

“Nice talking with you, Kinsey.” Pausing, he looked at her over his shoulder. “See you at my place tomorrow for dinner.”

Then he walked down the hall, disappearing inside his front door before Kinsey could react. She barely made it out of the elevator before the doors closed. Turned on beyond belief and left wanting, Kinsey shook her head in disbelief.

Who was Griff Beckett?

An evil motherfucker.

Full stop.

Oh, he was going to pay for that. Big-time.