She's My Kind of Girl (8 page)

He hooked her legs over his elbows, driving so deep inside her she screamed and burst.

On a mad rush, the climax pummeled through her in wave after wave of pleasure so ruthless she thought she'd pass out.

While she was lost in the power of her orgasm, he came, shuddering above her on a loud groan, calling her name over and over again.

They moved together, grinding their hips as they fought to capture every last bit of pleasure before he collapsed on top of her and they lay gasping for breath.

“Wow,” she panted out.

He laughed. “We've still got it.”

“Do we ever.”

He lifted onto his elbows. “I'm never going to be satisfied.”

She ran her fingers over his damp temples. “Me either.”

She wouldn't. She'd never get enough of him.

Not ever.

Chapter Seventeen

Darcy sat down at the kitchen table and looked at her mom.

Tammy smiled, her expression sly. “Did you have a nice evening?”

Images of the night before flashed through her mind like a peep show. Last night with Griffin had ruined her forever. It had been so good. He'd taken her in every way possible, in that way only he could manage. Now she was sore and swollen. Her muscles ached. She was marked. In more ways than one.

And her heart was breaking.

Because she knew what she had to do.

“It was lovely, thank you,” she said, her voice shaky.

“The whole town is talking,” her mom said, her tone giddy. “You'll have to make an honest man of Griffin.”

Darcy recalled this morning, at his front door, him leaning against the wood. On her knees, she sucked his cock like her life depended on it.

The good people of Revival would have heart attacks knowing what she'd done with their mayor last night.

She'd given herself one night, and now she had to give Griffin what he deserved.

Darcy folded her hands on the table and met her mom's happy, interested gaze. Darcy's throat closed over, not wanting to say the words but knowing they couldn't be helped. This was the beginning of the end, and she couldn't deny her reluctance, but it had to be done. There was no other choice. “Mom, we need to talk.”

“What is it, baby?” Tammy's expression turned a bit wary at the edges.

This was it. Once she started there'd be no turning back. “You need to sell your house to Revival. I know this is the house you grew up in, I know you have history here, but it's time to let that all go for the good of the town.”

Tammy blinked, before her eyes widened. “You think it's for the good of the town?”

“I do.” Darcy nodded for emphasis. “I've talked to a lot of people, Mom, and they all want this. I've also talked to more than one lawyer. If you choose to fight it, you'll lose and end up with nothing. So take what the town offered for the land. You can buy a new house a couple blocks away with the money. A good house, the kind you deserve that's not falling down around you. If Revival is your home, and you care about the town, let it thrive and prosper.”

“You think this is best?” Tammy's voice took on a shaky quality.

“Yes.” It was one thing she could give Griffin. His project would go on. He'd see his dreams for the town come true.

It was the only thing she had to offer.

Tammy bit her lower lip, glanced around the kitchen, and her eyes filled with tears. “You're going to leave, aren't you?”

“I am.” She'd booked the red-eye back to New York as soon as she'd returned to her mom's this morning. “It's time for me to go home.”

“You're making a mistake.” Tears spilled onto her mom's cheeks, and Darcy's chest squeezed. “I'd hoped you'd see that.”

Darcy's brows furrowed. “What do you mean by that?”

Tammy stood up and scrounged around in her cabinets before she retrieved an ashtray and a pack of cigarettes. She sat back down at the table, shook one from the pack, and lit it.

“I thought you'd quit?” Darcy frowned.

“I did.” Tammy shrugged and took a long drag. “Sometimes I just need to take the edge off.”

Darcy decided this wasn't a battle she wanted to fight at the moment. “What did you mean, you ‘hoped I'd see'?”

Tammy blew out a plume of smoke. “I hoped if you came home, you'd realize you belong here.”

Darcy's heart gave a hard thump. “I don't belong here. New York in my home now.”

“I don't think so.” Her mom gave her a long, searching look. “I think you belong here, with your family. Me and Griffin.”

The truth sunk in, and Darcy blinked at her mom. “You planned this, didn't you? You were always going to sell the house, weren't you?”

Tammy took another drag before she spoke. “Yes.”

“Did Griffin know about this?”
God, please don't let him have been involved.

“No.” Tammy stubbed out her cigarette. “He wouldn't have approved.”

Relief flooded through Darcy. Although she should have known, manipulation wasn't Griffin's style. And she didn't have the energy to be mad at her mom right now. She had to conserve all energy for what she had to do next.

“I'm sorry you had false hope, but nothing has changed. And holding the town hostage is not the way to get what you want.” She'd be properly angry later, after she'd had a chance to cry. Darcy pushed the contract her mom had stuffed into her mail drawer across the worn linoleum. “Here's the contract that agrees to the terms of the sale. I had both Mitch Riley and a lawyer in New York review it. Both of them said it was more than fair. You'll have until January thirty-first to give you time to move. With the sale, you'll be able to buy a nice little house and have no mortgage, just like you do here. Sign it.”

Tammy picked up the papers, and Darcy handed her a pen. She looked at Darcy with a big, watery gaze. “Are you bringing it to Griff?”

Darcy glanced at the clock over the ancient fridge. “As soon as we're done here.”

“And there's nothing I can do to change your mind about staying home?”

Darcy's mind filled with the image of Griffin's house, that house of her teenage fantasies. He'd given her a tour last night, after they'd finally exhausted themselves. Naked and curled in a blanket, she'd walked with him, listening to him talk about all the changes he'd made. She'd watched his face, the way it had shone in the soft light, and fallen even deeper in love with him.

He'd done it. All the things he'd talked about growing up. It was then that she remembered he hadn't really ever talked about travel like she had. She'd talked, and he'd listened. House, family, and community, those were the things Griffin had wanted. And he'd accomplished everything he'd dreamed of and more. He'd turned himself from a troublemaker into the pillar of the community. He was liked and respected.

She'd made her own successes—just not here in Revival. She had a life, and she needed to return to it. She shook her head. “No. This isn't my home anymore.”

“This has always been your home, baby.” Her mom smiled, sad and bittersweet. “You're just too stubborn to admit it.”

Darcy understood her mom believed that. But she knew the truth.

Her mom signed the document and pushed it back to Darcy.

She stared down at it. It was time to face Griffin.

Time to say good-bye.

Chapter Eighteen

Griffin stared out his office window onto Revival's Main Street, unable to concentrate on the proposal for new streetlamps that sat in front of him. His mind kept wandering to Darcy. Last night and all the things he'd done to her. All the things he wanted to do to her.

He didn't delude himself where Darcy was concerned. She wouldn't stay. He'd learned that lesson when he was eighteen and he'd tried so hard to convince her. She'd never wavered, and she'd never looked back.

She couldn't come home, and he couldn't leave.

That left them with no future.

He held no illusions he'd change her mind.

But that didn't mean he couldn't be with her while she was here. Griff knew how fast life could change, and he didn't take it for granted. He wasn't going to waste time with her to save himself the hurt when she walked away.

Last night he'd realized all those things he'd been telling himself all these years were bullshit.

He'd never really gotten over her.

All those times he'd never allowed himself to date any of the women in Revival wasn't because he was protecting his reputation, but because they weren't Darcy.

And after all this time, he still loved her. Had never stopped loving her.

So he might not be able to have her, but he wouldn't waste one second with her.

He'd recover. He always did. But he'd hold fast while he had her.

The intercom rang, and Mrs. Weller's disapproving voice came over the line. “Darcy Miller's here to see you. I told her you were busy, but she insisted.”

Griffin smiled. Speak of the devil. “Send her in.”

Mrs. Weller huffed and hung up.

He laughed, but it died in his throat when Darcy walked into his office. Face affixed in a remote mask, she refused to meet his eyes.

His chest gave a hard squeeze. There weren't going to be any more nights.

Last night was the only one.

He wouldn't even have her for a little while.

She walked up to his desk, an envelope in her hand. When she stopped, she shifted on her feet.

She didn't want to say the words, so he'd say them for her. He sat back in his chair and said softly, “You're leaving.”

She blinked and looked down at his desk before nodding.

“Why?” Although he already knew, he just wanted to see if she had the balls to admit it.

She dropped the envelope into the center of his desk. “My mom signed the papers this morning to sell the house. There's no reason to stay.”

“I see.” He picked up the packet and put it aside. “Last night wasn't a reason?”

She sucked in a breath that sounded like it got lodged in the middle of her throat. “What do you want me to say? We have no future.”

He couldn't force her to stay. Wouldn't beg her like he'd done the last time. If she wanted to go, he wasn't going to stand in her way, but he'd at least make her call it for what it was. “You're running away.”

She shook her head. “I'm saving us from getting hurt.”

“You're being a coward.”

Her eyes brightened, and still she wouldn't look at him. “What do you want, Griffin? And why is it up to me? Am I supposed to pick up my whole life and move back to this small town for you? Why am
I
the one running away when
you
won't even consider doing the same for me?”

She had a point. It wasn't fair. He nodded. “You're right. My life and responsibilities aren't any more important than yours are.”

She met his eyes, and a tear slipped down her cheek. “It's too hard to stay when I know we're going to end.”

“I understand.” He stood and walked around his desk to stand in front of her. He put his arms around her, and she trembled under his touch. He bent down to kiss her, brushing his mouth over hers before saying against her lips, “I still love you.”

She choked back a sob and gripped his shirt. “I still love you, too.”

He covered her mouth with his own in a hard, ruthless kiss. He devoured her, sucking her in, because this was the last time and he needed to remember it always.

His hands were everywhere, stroking over her hips, up her back, roaming across her breasts.

She rose to tiptoes, pressing closer, like she wanted to crawl inside him.

He feasted on her, using his tongue, teeth, and lips to say what he couldn't. To tell her that she was it for him. To imprint his possession onto her. To brand her. Mark her. So she'd never forget that she might not be with him, but she sure as hell belonged to him.

Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer.

He tasted her tears in their kiss. He twisted her, pushing her onto the desk before gripping her hips and rocking hard into her. She gasped, dug her nails into his back. They didn't break contact, their breathing becoming more and more labored as they fought and strained to get closer.

He undid the zipper of her jeans and pushed them down. She kicked them away as she reached for his belt. Fingers fumbling, her hands shook as she worked the button. He helped her along, pushing his pants down far enough for his cock to spring free. He fumbled in his pocket for a condom and quickly, without breaking the fusing of their mouths, he rid himself of the package and rolled the latex over his aching cock.

He lifted her hips and pushed inside her.

Groaning against her lips, he thrust his tongue in time to the thrusting of his body.

She cried out, the sound vibrating against his mouth.

This was going to be the last time and it had to count, but he couldn't control his need for her.

She shook in his arms as he pounded into her, trying to soak in the lushness of her body, the squeeze of her muscles down his shaft.

He felt the quickening of her body. She was close. He slowed down and whispered between kisses, “Not yet, Darce. Please don't come yet.”

She moaned, and, as she stilled her body, her mouth became more demanding and insistent. She bit his lower lip. “I love you so much, Griff.”

“I love you, too.” He switched to short, shallow strokes, staving off their impending climax while they kissed like they were starving.

Because they were. This was their last supper.

He got lost in her. Lost in everything about her, from the feel of her, tight and wet around him, to her hair, her mouth, the stroke of her tongue. The way she smelled all hot, desperate, and aroused.

All he wanted was to ask her to stay. And it was the one thing he couldn't do.

When she tightened around him, he knew she couldn't hold on much longer and he increased his strokes. Pushing harder and deeper, he plunged into her. They were breathing so hard they could no longer maintain contact, and their lips brushed together with angry swipes, gasping breath, and seeking tongues.

Her nails dug into his back, and she breathed out, “I'm sorry.”

She came, exploding around him, ripping his own orgasm from the base of his spine. It rolled through him, powerful and intense.

It was the best fucking orgasm of his life.

Made all the more bittersweet because it was finally the end of his relationship with Darcy.

They lay gasping and panting, their lips still clinging together.

He had no idea how long they stayed like that, connected, but it wasn't long enough.

She stirred, and it was time.

He pulled away, sipped the tears from her cheeks, and then stood.

Neither of them spoke as they dressed, avoiding each other as they put themselves together again.

She glanced at the door. “I have to go.”

“All right.”

She bit her bottom lip. “I don't know how to say good-bye.”

“Then don't.” He shoved his hands into his pockets to keep from reaching for her. “Just go and say we'll see each other someday.”

She clutched her hands and shook her head. “I didn't know . . . If I did, I wouldn't have come back.”

“I'm glad you did.” Because he couldn't be sorry.

She jerked her head to look at him. “You are?”

He nodded. “How can I be sorry? Most people never get even close to what we have. I just wish I knew how to make it enough.”

“Me too.”

Their eyes met then slid away. It was just too hard.

“Don't say good-bye.” He clenched his hands into fists.

“I won't.” Her voice atremble.

The door opened and closed.

She was gone.