Home > Griffin's Protection(4)

Griffin's Protection(4)
Author: Lola Gabriel

Whether it was a dream or not, she had to see her situation through to the end. If this was real, this could mean life or death. And, she could definitely have a worse person helping her. It wasn’t every day she got to talk with someone like Oakley. And the more she talked with him, the more attractive he became. Not in a superficial way. Objectively, yes, he was hot, but the part that sucked her in more than anything was his eyes, the kindness and the intelligence in those hazel orbs. He was wise, or that is what Poppy’s great-grandfather had always told her. In reality, she was looking at someone who’d been around before the Civil War. Someone that was a survivor, someone that had seen amazing things and lived to tell the tale. And there was power in that, real power.

He moved like he owned the place. Every move was confident, not arrogant, but bold and without hesitation. As she explained her situation, she felt his eyes bore into her and figure out exactly what she was about. It was like she couldn’t hide from him, like her secrets and internal monologues were displaying over her forehead and he could read and see everything she was thinking about. She didn’t know what she had expected. After all, the guy had been on the Immortal Council for…centuries? He had to be good at listening and figuring out the truth, so she tried to keep it clean and clear.

The only part she didn’t want him to know was the part about Raz being a jackass. There was a motive, plain and clear, but dammit, she didn’t doubt for a second that he would figure it out eventually and besides, she needed him to see this clearly. Raz was an idiot, and a chauvinist that made every girl in the place watch how she was standing. Was it a bad thing that he was gone? Well…no. The world was better off without him around, but at the same time, hating his guts and literally possessing the drive to kill him were two completely different things. And more specifically, the most ridiculous part of the whole thing was that she was supposedly having an affair with Raz. She’d sooner shoot herself in the foot than even consider it. Anyone who knew her, anyone who had ever seen her and Raz interact, knew that there was no hidden love there. But someone had killed him, and apparently, it looked like she’d done it. Unfortunately, she hadn’t been too quiet about her distaste for him. One hop, skip, and a jump later, she was arrested for his murder.

When she got to talking about Raz and spilled the beans that she actually hated his guts, the slightest smile formed on Oakley’s lips. What that meant, exactly, she had no idea. She could probably spend hours trying to figure him out and not even crack the surface.

After he got the specifics on the case, and asked her a few questions, it was time for Oakley to leave. He clapped his thigh with his palm, took the final swig of his coffee, and stood up. He flashed that smile again, and once more, the energy thrumming between her legs returned. “It’s been a pleasure. I look forward to working with you.”

She sat for a lingering second. C’mon, don’t leave yet.

She stood and smiled in return, snagging his coffee mug and taking it back to the kitchen. “So you don’t think I did it, right?”

He snorted. “No. Actually, quite the opposite. I don’t think you possess the ability to murder him. I think you’ve either been framed, or there’s been an unlikely series of events.”

Despite it being a good thing that she didn’t have the ability to kill someone, she felt a spark of insult ignite in her chest. Not have it in her? She could kill someone! Well, probably not, but still, the competitive part of her came out at the least appropriate time. That wasn’t something to argue about. Sure, she didn’t have the ability to kill someone.

She felt a magnetic pull to him, a feeling unlike anything she’d ever had before, an urge to feel him and feel him against her body. She locked eyes with him.

“Maybe not.” She kept her eyes locked on his and smiled, but behind that smile was a mounting hunger so intense she couldn’t think straight. She shouldn’t do this, really, she should be focusing on the case, but there was a distinct space inside of her that was starting to feel very empty. She literally just met the guy, and dream or not, her body should not be having this reaction to a complete stranger.

Still, if this was a dream, why not enjoy it? And if it wasn’t, then she’d make an ass of herself right before going to trial and getting executed. Then again, if she was going to die, then she should probably be able to die saying she had the balls to hit on a centuries-old, sexy griffin.

Then again, if he was hundreds of years old, then he’d been around the block quite a few times. He’d had dozens and dozens of women in his bed, probably. He’d been seduced by women who were older than Poppy, more experienced. She bet they even smoldered.

Oakley’s eyebrows crawled up and she belatedly realized that she’d been staring at him the entire time. Poppy almost looked away and laughed it off, but instead, she pushed herself to be bold. Run with it.

“I don’t think it’s very fair of you to judge my depravity within twenty-four hours of meeting me. For all you know, I could be pure evil.”

Oakley’s eyebrows furrowed and he turned his entire body toward her. He looked confused. Good, she was too.

“I think I’ve been alive long enough to be able to tell who and who isn’t a murderer.”

“Just by looking at them?”

“Yeah. Call it a second instinct.”

“You may want to look closer,” she crossed her legs because she was starting to ache between them. “Witches are very good at hiding things. You wouldn’t want to misjudge me, would you?”

Oakley was very still, and his eyes didn’t drop away from hers. He knew what she was up to, or at least getting an idea. She hoped, anyway. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep up with the innuendos before she just got up and fucked him, which was sounding more tempting by the minute.

“Anyway,” Poppy stood up and held out her palm, “thanks for coming. I know I’m in good hands.”

Oakley’s eyes were narrowed as he studied her, but he took her hand to shake all the same. Here goes nothing.

Poppy held onto his palm and drew herself closer to him. Her core thrummed.

“You can stay a while longer, if you like,” she muttered, staring into his eyes and smiling coyly. An image of Oakley in her bed invaded the forefront of her mind and she dropped his hand. Her panties were uncomfortably wet against her pussy.

Oakley didn’t immediately answer. She didn’t want him to go, but she didn’t want to scare him off.

She turned around and started walking away, toward her room. She grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it off, tossing it on the ground. She reached behind her back and unsnapped her bra, letting it fall to the floor. Poppy was halfway to her room and her stomach was flipping because he hadn’t taken her offer, and now he’d think she was insane.

The heat inside of her moved from her belly to her pussy and she stepped quicker to get to her bedroom. She’d probably lock herself in there and curl into a ball of humiliation, then she’d take care of herself later. God, what was wrong with her?

She made it to her bedroom and without looking, shoved her door closed. It didn’t close. She turned around and there was Oakley, one hand stopping the door and the other hand stiff at his side. He didn’t say anything. Neither did she. There was a large bulge in his pants, but he didn’t move toward her.

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