Chapter 23
The American Bodyguard
ZAINAB
Weâre in Shoreditch. You canât come to Shoreditch and not eat pizza. Itâs a rule I made for myself when I turned eighteen.
Griff and I are sitting on the rooftop of a restaurant with thirteen-inch pizzas between us. The conversation flows easily. Heâs in a relatively talkative mood, giving me full sentence answers.
After Iâve left nothing but a few pieces of crust, I sit back and rub my full belly. I exhale loudly, blowing out my cheeks.
âDamn. Thirteen inches is probably just one too many, you know? I think Iâll stick to twelve next time.â
Griff doesnât say anything; he only raises his eyebrow at me.
It takes a moment for my brain to understand the amused smile playing on his lips.
~Oops.~
âUgh, get your mind out of the gutter!â I tease him and whip his arm with my napkin.
âBesides, thirteen inches is a piss-take. I might be able to handle a twelve-inch pizza, but I like my penises half that size, thanks.â
Griffith bursts out laughing. I canât stop myself from smiling at the sound. Seeing him like this makes me so happy.
âYouâre going to need to handle a little more than six inches,â he says softly and wipes his hand on his napkin.
My face heats up as I think of the one and only time Iâve seen his dick. It was in my mouth, and it was definitely more than six inches.
~Fuck my life.~
âHowâs the manuscript coming along?â
I pull a face at Griffâs question. âItâs⦠under evaluation.â
âI figured it has been for a while. Whatâs your hang-up with it?â
âIt feels disingenuous. I donât know if I trust the love interestâs intentions. Itâs hard to believe he will actually do half the things he promises to do for the main character.â
âWhy is that so hard to believe?â
âIâve had men let me down before.â
It sounds so bitter, saying it out loud, but itâs the truth.
He stares at me for a long moment before saying, âPerhaps you need to be proven wrong.
I raise my eyebrows at that but say nothing.
~Does he think heâs going to be the guy to do that?~
âSo, second part of the date?â I ask as we leave the restaurant.
âA ping pong place, but Iâm thinking itâs not a good idea with how competitive we get,â he muses.
âHow about that place instead?â
His eyes follow where Iâm pointing to and narrow as he scans the front of the building.
âYou really want to jump in a ball pit after eating a thirteen-inch pizza?â
âCock and balls go together,â I joke.
He rolls his eyes and takes my hand.
We pay our entry fees and then wander from room to room, admiring all the different colors and designs of the ball pits.
Iâm the first to jump into one, obviously. Griff looks at me with an amused but stubborn expression, his arms crossed over his huge chest.
âGet in!â
He shakes his head. I pout at him and throw a ball in his direction. It bounces off his knee and lands back in the pit.
âCome on,â I whine.
He scowls and gingerly steps off the side, dropping into the ginormous pit of plastic balls. They spread out in all directions to accommodate his giant body. He surfaces with a frown and picks up one of the balls, inspecting it.
âI wonder how much bacteria is on all of these,â he muses.
I throw another one. He glares at me as it bounces off his forehead.
âStop being a party pooper, and have some fun.â
âHave some fun, huh?â
The look in his eyes becomes predatory. I instinctively spin around, kicking my way through the balls toward the edge. Itâs like trying to run on sand. I canât get traction, and I keep falling.
Griff catches me easily. His thick arms snake around my waist and pull me back against his hard chest.
âHaving fun yet?â he murmurs against my neck.
His lips brush over my skin, and I shudder in his arms. I feel him smile into my neck.
I twist myself around. Behind me, I can hear other people coming into the ball pit room, but I ignore them. My sole attention is on Griff.
My lips pull up into a smile. âYes, definitely.â
***
âI had a great time tonight,â I say as we leave.
âMe too,â he admits, his cheeks flushed.
I take a step closer to him.
âSeeing as this is a date⦠do I get a kiss?â I ask him quietly.
Like something out of a movie, my phone starts to ring. We both groan at the interruption. I consider not answering it, but whoever is calling will probably just call again.
With a sigh, I take out my phone. My eyes widen at the sight of my fatherâs name.
I look sheepishly at Griff. âIâm sorry; itâs my father.â
He nods. âTake it.â
I turn away from him and answer the call.
âHello, darling. How are you? Have you got a new bodyguard?â
His question immediately makes me tense up. âUm⦠yes, why?â
âReagan saw you out with a new security personnel and mentioned it to me. Is there something wrong with Mr. Huxley?â
My stomach flips, and I look back at Griff. Heâs pretending not to listen, his hands casually resting in his pockets.
âNot at all, I just wanted some extra security after what happened at the award show.â
âThatâs very sensible, darling. I want you to be safe.â
âYeah, thank you, Dad.â
âOkay, well, as long as youâre all rightâ¦â
I tense up as Griff places his hand on my lower back. He pulls me against his body, and I frown in confusion until I realize itâs to move me out of the way. Iâm standing in front of the doors, and a large group of people is trying to enter.
I keep the phone pressed to my ear and lean into Griffâs body, letting myself be surrounded by his aftershave.
Griff brushes my hair back from my forehead and strokes my cheek. My heart stutters. I lock eyes with him and lick my lips on reflex. His eyes drop to my mouth.
Iâm a horrible daughter, but I really donât want to be on the phone with my father right now.
âIâm really good. Thank you. Speak soon?â
âSpeak soon.â
The moment he hangs up, I put my phone away and press my hands to Griffâs chest. He eyes me with amusement, sensing my impatience.
âWhere were we?â I murmur, and Griffâs eyes drop to my mouth again.
***
After the success of our first date on Tuesday, I insisted on taking Griff on my own date on Friday.
I havenât planned anything as elaborate as he did. Weâre going to one of my favorite Asian fusion restaurants and then for cocktails after.
âAre you ready?â I call out to Griff as Iâm clipping the back onto my earring.
I admire the dangling earrings in the mirror, smiling at how they catch the light.
Tonight, Iâve gone with a halterneck that does wonders for my boobs, a black leather skirt, tights, and knee-high boots.
âReady.â Griffâs low voice sounds down the corridor.
I snatch up my small bag and step out, stopping short when I spot him waiting by the lift.
He looks freaking ~gorgeous~.
âWow.â
The word practically falls out of my mouth.
Heâs wearing a white shirt. The top two buttons are undone. It tapers in at his narrow waist and is tucked into black slacks with a black leather belt. His shoes are polished black brogues.
When he turns to face me, I notice the flashy silver watch on his left wrist and the matching silver chain around his neck.
~Letâs stay home and fuck.~
The words are on the tip of my tongue, but I swallow them instead.
âIs this okay? You lookâ¦â He trails off, his eyes dragging up and down my body appreciatively. âYou look incredible, Zee.â
âThank you,â I reply and walk right up to him. âSo do you.â
I breathe in his cologne. The rich notes of the fragrance make me think of that first night I met him, the scent I picked up on immediately.
~African violets.~
âShall we?â I ask, gesturing to the lift.
Instead of answering, Griff grabs the back of my neck. With a sharp tug, he pulls me flush against him. Clearly, he doesnât give a fuck about my expensive lipstick because his lips come down on mine in a bruising kiss.
He devours my mouth, pushing his tongue into it and tasting every inch. I kiss him back after a beat, matching his energy as desire blazes through my stomach.
When he pulls back, my lipstick is smeared, some red traces are on his own lips, and my mouth is tingling from the intensity of the sudden kiss.
âWhat was that for?â I murmur, sounding as dazed as I feel.
âJust making sure you know how much I want you,â he says in a guttural voice. âLetâs go.â
He has to pull me into the lift. Iâm still blinking rapidly and trying to get my brain to turn on again.
My earlier thought still stands.
Maybe sushi and dumplings can wait. Maybe cocktails can be rain checked.
~We could just stay home and fuck.~