Forever an Eaton: Bittersweet Love

Keith’s gaze lingered briefly on Belinda Eaton before coming back to rest on Griffin’s scowling face. “Look, man, I know I was out of line.”

“You were.” The two words were cold, exacting.

Keith recoiled as if he’d been struck. “Will you accept my apology?”

The seconds ticked off, the silence swelling and growing more uncomfortable with each tick. Griffin’s face was a glowering mask of controlled fury. His client had stepped over the line. He’d taken Keith Ennis, a naturally talented athlete from a disadvantaged Baltimore neighborhood to instant superstar status with a five-year multimillion-dollar contract, along with high-profile product endorsements.

Griffin was normally laid-back, quick to smile, slow to anger and willing to give anyone three strikes. Unfortunately, Keith Ennis had just used up one of his three. He angled his head. “That’s something I’m going to have to think about. Can I get you something to drink?” he asked in the same breath.

Keith flashed a tremulous grin. “Sure.”

* * *

Layla and Sabrina stared at their sport idol, tongue-tied as Griffin snapped pictures of them shaking hands with Keith, flanking him when they posed as a group picture and when he autographed their brag books. The ballplayer, seeking redemption for his misstep, signed autographs for their teachers and fellow students. Clutching their treasured memorabilia to their chests, the sisters raced upstairs to text their friends.

* * *

Griffin and Belinda became the consummate host and hostess as they greeted guests with exotic cocktails and hors d’oeuvres. The Moroccan-style meatballs, deviled eggs with capers, mini crab cakes and beluga caviar on toast points were the highlight of the cocktail hour.

It didn’t take Belinda long to understand why her sister liked socializing at Griffin’s house. Excellent food, top-shelf liquor, friendly, outgoing guests and an attentive host made for certain success.

The thirtysomething crowd included college classmates, frat brothers and three newlywed couples. She knew a few of the guests were surprised to see her as hostess, but they soon got used to it. The music, which included old-school and new-school jams, had several couples up and dancing when everyone filed out of the dining room to the back porch.

It was ten o’clock when Keith bid his farewell, saying he had to get up early for batting practice. Others followed suit over the next hour. Griffin paid and tipped the bartender, the chef and waitstaff, then led Belinda out to the patio, seating her on a cushioned chaise. The outdoor fireplace emitted enough heat to warm the mid-forty-degree temperature. Dozens of candles lining a long wooden table flickered, competing with millions of stars in the clear night sky.

Belinda slipped off her heels. “I’m going to need a throw or a blanket,” she said, as Griffin joined her on the chaise.

Griffin nuzzled her neck. “I’ll warm you up.” Without warning, he effortlessly lifted her so that she sat between his outstretched legs. “Lean back against me.”

Fatigue swept over her, and she closed her eyes. “It was a nice little get-together.”

“It was nice,” Griffin said in agreement, as he, too, closed his eyes.

She opened her eyes and peered up at him over her shoulder. “Some of your friends were somewhat surprised when you introduced me as your hostess. Were they perhaps expecting to see you with some other woman?”

Griffin opened his eyes. “I don’t know what they expected, Belinda, because I’ve never concerned myself with how other folks see me. If I did, then I’d stop being who I am. And I deliberately didn’t introduce you as my brother’s sister-in-law because I felt it was none of their business.”

“Did you tell Keith that I’m the girls’ aunt?”

“Nope.”

“Do you plan on telling him?”

“Nope.”

“Why are you so monosyllabic?”

Using a minimum of effort and movement, Griffin changed positions until Belinda lay under him. “I don’t feel very much like talking, Miss Eaton, because I’d rather do this.”

She knew Griffin was going to kiss her, but was helpless to stop him. The truth was she didn’t want to stop him. She’d lost count of the number of times she’d replayed him kissing her over and over—in and out of bed. Griffin had ignited a spark that grew hotter and more intense each time she saw him. A part of her wanted him to stay away—the sensible Belinda. Then there was the other Belinda—the sexually frustrated woman who hadn’t slept with a man in three years.

Blood-pounding desire rushed through her veins. Her lips parted, she swallowed Griffin’s warm, moist breath as his mouth covered hers in a hungry joining that left them tearing at each other’s clothes. Belinda grasped the back of his sweater, pulling it up from his waist and baring flesh in her journey to get to know every part of Griffin Rice. She’d become addicted to him, his scent and the hard contours of his toned, slender body.

Griffin kissed Belinda with an outward calm that belied his hunger to take her—on the chaise and without protection. One hand slipped under her blouse, while the other slid up her inner thighs. The heat coming from between her legs was an inferno. Belinda was on fire, the flames spreading and racing out of control. He fastened his mouth over a breast, the nipple hardening when he suckled her through the cup of her lace bra.

“You are exquisite,” he whispered, pressing his groin to hers so she could feel how much he wanted and needed her.

Looping her arms under Griffin’s shoulders, Belinda held on to him as if he were her lifeline while waves of ecstasy rocked her like a ship in a storm. He suckled one breast, then the other before trailing moist kisses down her belly. She was hot, then cold as Griffin released the zipper on her slacks, pushing them down her thighs; his head replaced his hands as he pressed his face to the apex of her legs.

Griffin inhaled the womanly essence through the scrap of silk. His longing to be inside Belinda bordered on insanity, but sanity won out when he moved up the length of her quivering body, his heart pounding in his chest like a jackhammer. He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the chaise.

“One of these days we’re going to finish this,” he promised.