by Goode, Ella
“Quittin’ time.” I let out a small noise, having been startled by Grey’s deep voice. I quickly get myself together and gather my things. His presence takes over the entire room. Goosebumps arise all over my body imagining how it would feel if I was under him. His body looming over mine. I know he’d feel heavy over me. A powerful weight that would have me trying to push my body more into his. I have to stop fantasizing about him.
“Don’t you know how to knock? Do you normally barge into other people's private areas without permission?” I yield those words like a sword because I’m pissed at myself for being attracted to him. Guess what he does? He freaking smiles at me. The urge to stomp my damn foot is great but I tamp it down. He’d likely smile more.
“Let’s go. I’ll give you a ride to where you’re staying. Your things are already in my pickup.”
“I can grab a Lyft or a cab. You don’t need to do me any favors,” I toss at him, hoping he’ll leave but also wishing he’ll stay. I’m such a damn mess when he’s around. At least this office isn’t anymore.
“You always this stubborn?” he says with that smile still on his lips like he finds my stubbornness cute. “It’s been a long day. Let me drive you so I know you’re safe.”
I relent when I watch his eyes go soft.
“Just agree or this will be a twenty-minute fight that he wins.” Kayla pops up with her bag in hand.
“Fine.” I relent. I’m ready for a bed and some room service. I’m not sure how with the giant lunch we had. Grey wasn’t joking about ordering everything.
We all head out together. I notice Grey makes sure Kayla gets to her car safely before opening his truck door for me.
I get in fast this time so he can’t grab me. He chuckles, shutting the door behind me. We ride in silence but it’s not long until we’re pulling up to a beautiful bed and breakfast—at least that’s what I think it is. It’s charming and still needs a little work but I love that it looks like it has history to it.
“What’s this place called?” I ask, looking over to him. I don’t see a sign outside.
“Home.” He winks at me before jumping out of the truck. I sit there shocked for a moment until I see him pulling my bags out of the back of his truck bed. I swing my door open.
“This is your house.” I point to the charming Victorian house that I never in my life would’ve guessed was his.
“Come on. I’ll give you a tour.” He heads to the front door. I follow only because he has my bags. He unlocks the door before disarming the security system.
He places my bags into the foyer before going back to the front door and picking up some boxes that had been left. “Think our hand towels and pillows came,” he says with a smile.
“Our hand towels.” I don’t know why that’s what I choose to say right now. Maybe because I’m flipping confused about what’s happening.
“Yeah. Got us matching ones,” he says simply. As if it’s normal for us to have matching hand towels. He picks me up again, making me let out a small scream. He puts me down two seconds later, shutting the front door and locking it.
“Tour first or food?”
“Food” pops out of my mouth before I can stop myself. Damn it. Food gets me every time. I could stay for dinner then go. Hey, a girl’s gotta eat. Even if she’s already had twelve desserts.
Chapter 7
Greyson
“Where did you learn how to cook?” Amie eyes me with suspicion as if my ability to wield a knife in the kitchen is somehow evidence of me being a manwhore.
“Mom. Military. Mostly military. Gotta learn how to do shit for yourself while you’re serving or shit never gets done, but Mom taught me the basics.” Amie falls silent. I scoop the chopped onions into the sizzling pan before checking her out. “You surprised I have a mama?”
She pushes her pretty lips together. “No, of course not,” she replies but there isn’t much sincerity in her voice. She must’ve thought I sprung from the devil’s horns. Maybe it’s not just me, though, maybe it’s just that I’ve got a dick.
“I’m glad you’re watching me close,” I tell her, stripping the rosemary leaves off the branch. “Because who knows what I’m going to put in your sauce?”
“My mom told me to never trust—” She cuts herself off and pushes away from the island abruptly. I watch, narrow-eyed, as she wanders over to the doors overlooking a covered patio. In the dark glass, I can see a pained reflection. The memory she was going to share dredged up a bad feeling. I toss the rosemary into the pan along with the onions and debate whether I should abandon the andouille sausage dish I’m making to console her or whether I should go along with her attempts to pretend like nothing is wrong. There’s a tingling on the back of my neck that’s warning me there are eggshells under my feet. I clench my fist around a wooden spoon and force out a light tone. “Your mama told you what?”
“Nothing,” comes the moody response.
Damn Sokolov for not giving me more details and damn me for not following up with him although the man’s on his honeymoon so it’s possible he’s not even accessible.
“Well, you can trust that this stew is going to be good. Now, do you want white or brown rice with this?”
“Whatever you think is best. How long will it take? I want to check in at the hotel. It’s been a long day.” She’s still talking to her reflection.
“I’ve got a spare room here.”
She stiffens immediately and whips around. “And I bet you expect me to sleep with you, don’t you?” Anger riding high on her cheekbones, she stalks toward me. “I’m not interested and if this is part of the job requirements, I’m not only going to quit, I’m going to sue your ass into oblivion.”
“Ma’am, the door has a lock which you should feel free to use. I hate seeing you spend your hard-earned money on a hotel when you could be staying here.” I turn the burner on low and gesture for her to follow me. She remains put with a stubborn and mean expression on her face. I hate to say it but it turns me the fuck on. As in, my cock is getting harder by the second. I keep walking, talking loudly over my shoulder because my whole spiel on how this is a safe place for her will not be bought for a single second if she sees the tent in my pants.
“This was my grandma’s house. I inherited it when she passed about five years back. Before she left us, the first floor was redone to accommodate her wheelchair. This back sunroom was made into a suite for her. I’ve got a master bedroom upstairs.” I throw open the door to my grandma’s old room. Thankfully the cleaners were here just two days ago so it smells fresh and looks like a hotel room. “My mom stays here when she’s in town.”
“I’m not interested,” Amie yells from the living room.
“Huh?” I shout back. “I can’t hear you.”
“I said I’m not—”
“Sorry, what’s that?”
Footsteps stomp loudly against the refinished red oak floors and stop when they reach the doorway. “I said I’m not—Oh my God, this is beautiful,” Amie gasps.
I smile to myself. “Sure is. Grandma had good taste and a deep pocketbook.”
The room looks like something out of an English manor, which is exactly what Grandma, the late Countess of Montelarch, intended. Downton Abbey’s got nothing on my setup. The ceilings in my two-story Victorian are ten feet high on the first floor. The massive king size bed has a padded headboard with a green silk canopy. The floor is covered in plush handmade rugs and the walls are covered in a custom wallpaper designed to my grandmother’s exact specifications. Two deep pink velvet chairs with claw feet flank a white marble fireplace. At the opposite side of the room from the bed, a wall of the same green silk provides shade and privacy from the garden that is right beyond the French doors.
“This is...incredible.” Amie trails her hand across the white comforter with its embroidered flowers.
“The bathroom’s over there.” I point to the tall double doors on the right side of the room. I force myself to lean back against the firep
lace mantle instead of dragging her over to the bathroom because I know that once Amie sees it, she won’t be leaving. My mom said it’s a woman’s paradise. Not sure what that means since I figure a woman’s paradise is between her legs, but it’s apparently a good thing.
Amie wants to resist, but in the end her curiosity gets the better of her. “Is this a pool? Does your grandma have a pool in her bathroom?” she exclaims.
“It’s a therapy spa,” I tell her, tucking my hands into my pockets and strolling over to the entrance to the bathroom. Amie’s leaning down, dipping her fingers into the warm water. “You hook yourself up to the harness and swim laps. Toward the end of her life, water exercise was about all she could do.”
The bathroom had been transformed into a mini-spa with the therapy pool, a sauna, and a steam room. It’s all done in white marble with pink and gold accents. “When Mom comes to visit, she basically lives in here and forces me to deliver food to the suite.”
“I can see why.” Amie pushes herself to her feet and wipes her hand off against her thigh.
“If I sent you to a hotel, my grandma would rise from her grave and haunt me. Why don’t you settle in while I go fetch your bags.” I leave before she can protest because, in the end, she’s going to be living here anyway.
Chapter 8
Amie
Kayla drops a stack of folders onto my desk before slapping her hands down on top of them as she leans down toward me. I make a small jump back in my chair. I didn’t see her coming.
“Woman to woman,” she whispers. Well, her form of a whisper. “You give it up to Grey?”
My mouth falls open. That is not what I thought she was going to ask. “No!” I hiss. “I’m just staying with him.” Her eyes go wide. Oh. I guess she didn’t know that. Cat’s out of the bag now.
“He’s letting you stay with him? Like at his house?” Her expression is one of utter disbelief. “Like in his space?” Her reaction throws me off guard. I know he and I didn’t exactly get off on the right foot but we are two grown adults. I’m sure we can coexist in the same space without killing one another. Yet I don’t think she’s worried about us doing that. She’s probably more concerned that one of us will break and we’ll wind up screwing each other to death.
“Yes. He offered it.” I give a small shrug. “I mean, you should see the bathroom. I couldn't say no. Plus he’s a really good cook.” Kayla stumbles back, flopping down into the chair in front of my desk. Grey put it there this morning when he made himself at home while he drank his coffee and checked his emails from his phone. I told him to go to his own desk. He told me the view isn’t as nice. I, of course, turned three shades of red and ignored him the best that I could while I continued to work. He made that task really hard. Finally he got a call and had to run out to check on something. I reluctantly missed him the second he left. I also worried about him too. What if the call that came in was something dangerous? What if he got hurt? These are all things I shouldn’t be worried about after only knowing him for a few days.
“No, I haven't seen his bathroom. His place is like Fort Knox! He doesn't let anyone over there but his mom. Not even me, who he claims is like a sister to him.” She folds her arms over her chest. A small pout forms on her lips, showing her dissatisfaction. “I’d be more mad about this if I wasn’t so happy about how chipper Grey has been today. That’s why I thought maybe you gave him the goodies or something. He’s way too happy.” She shakes her head. “He was whistling.”
I noticed. He was good at it too. No matter how uptight I’ve been with him, he was still sweet as he could be to me. He doesn’t seem bothered in the least when I give him attitude or a hard time. My sour mood never rubs off on him. The more difficult I get, the softer he gets. I’m going to have to up my game if I have any chance of resisting him. I don’t want him to get the wrong idea. I’m here to work. No men, I remind myself for the thousandth time.
“Kayla. Don’t get your hopes up. I’m not looking for a man right now.” I say the words without any conviction but hopefully she’ll let me slide. Kayla shakes her head and gets up to leave my office.
“You may not have been looking but he’s already found you.” Those are her departing words before she walks out of my office so I can’t respond further. Not that I have a response. I don’t let myself think too long about her words. I push them to the back of my mind and continue to work.
“Knock knock.” Grey’s voice sounds from the entrance of my office. I look up to see his gorgeous eyes staring at me. “You hungry?” He lifts a bag that he’s holding, signaling that he has food. I quickly think about what Kayla said and decide I need to distance myself a bit. I’m already staying in his home. We don’t need to have lunch together also. I drew lines in the sand yesterday and I am the one playing with crossing them. At least my mind has been.
“I’m not hungry but thanks.” I put my head down and pretend to concentrate on my work. My stupid stomach decides to growl in that moment. I mean, c'mon, what are the chances? I can feel his smile before I even look up. His sexy smile will forever be branded into my mind. I think it’s because it’s easy to form on his lips when he looks my way but he can easily drop it when someone steps out of line. Not me, though. I push and push and still that smile never falters when it’s aimed at me.
He drops the food onto the table. “You are always feeding me,” I sigh, looking up at him. It’s then I see a small mark on his chin. I jump from my seat, rounding my desk. “What happened?” I ask as I reach up to where the mark is located, running my fingers along it.
“I like feeding you.” He ignores my question. I push him over toward the chair. He goes, not fighting me, but dropping down into it and taking me with him.
“What happened?” My fingers touch his chin. His eyes close and he exhales a long breath. He remains quiet for a few seconds before he responds.
“There was a situation but I was a little distracted. My concentration was lacking but it won’t happen again. I’m fine.” Before I know it my other hand reaches up and begins caressing his face. His eyes open, locking with mine.
“Why were you distracted?” I whisper, already knowing what his answer is going to be.
“You. I was lost in thoughts of you.” My heart gives a flutter in my chest. I swallow, suddenly overwhelmed with feelings. I don’t know why and I know I shouldn’t but I lean in and kiss the mark. I let my lips linger, breathing him in.
Yeah. I’m never going to be able to fight this attraction. I am screwed. Metaphorically and physically.
Chapter 9
Greyson
She touched me first. That’s about the last conscious thought I have before sealing my lips against hers. She tastes sweet, like candy. I palm the back of her head, sliding my hands into her golden hair, to angle her face to the side so I can gain deeper access. She’s shy at first but in no time, her tongue is tangling with mine. I suck on her bottom lip and tease it with my teeth.
Desire fires my veins and turns my cock into steel. She shifts, her ass rubbing against my cock. I break away. “Damn, girl, too much of that and I’m going to take you right on this desk. Kayla’s running an errand for me, but I can’t take the risk she’s going to walk in at the wrong moment.”
She stills and tries to wriggle away. I clamp her tight. “Nuh uh. I’m not done yet.” I sweep her hair to one side and nose her throat. “I suspect the minute you climb off my lap you’re going to start having second thoughts about me so until Kayla’s back, I want you to sit tight. Minute she walks through the door, I’ll let you go.”
I give Amie the out so she knows she’s not trapped and it works. Her tension drains away and she leans her shoulder against my chest. I reach up to cup her breasts through her dress. “Can’t wait until I can take this off and kiss your tits. Your nipples are going to look good and taste even better.”
“How do you know? Because all breasts are the same?” There’s a tinge of hurt in her voice. Someone did a number on her and when I fin
d him, he’s going to be shitting out his teeth for days.
“Wouldn’t know about other breasts cuz I haven’t been looking at any. But yours are world class because you’re world class. Look at you.” I cup her chin. Damn, I wish I had a mirror in here. I make do with what I have and swivel around so she can see herself in the floor-to-ceiling window. “You’re the whole package, honey. The minute you walked in here, I wanted to drop to my knees and start worshipping. Your face is like an angel’s. You have gorgeous blue eyes. Your honey hair looks like fine spun sugar. Your body is to die for. Literally. Anyone comes near you, I’m bringing out every weapon I’ve got.”
A pretty rose flush paints her cheeks. She clears her throat. “Of course you’re going to say that. You want to have sex with me.”
She says it primly, like my grandma would talk about having relations with the count.
“’Course I do. Any man would but I’m the only one that’s going to be in your pussy.” I don’t even give her the option of saying no. I run my hand over her knee and up her thigh until I can feel the heat radiating off her pussy. I nudge her panties aside and rub my fingers over her cunt lips. “This pussy’s mine. When you’re ready, I’m going to take it. I’m going to be inside of you. My scent is gonna be on your skin. My taste is gonna be on your tongue.” My fingers grow slippery as her body gets excited by my words. I slip my hand out from between her legs and lick off her essence. “And it’s the same way for me. I’m going to be dreaming about you when you’re not with me, wanting you when I’m not inside of you, craving the taste of you when I can’t have my tongue on your cunt.”
