by L. M. Reid
“My home,” he says. “You said to take you home. You didn’t specify whose home.”
He extends his hand to me and leads me to the front door, then into the home.
My body is humming with a nervous energy as I watch him toss his keys onto the small table to the left of the door. Something about being here feels so intimate, as though this isn’t a part of himself that he just lets anyone into. And while it wasn’t that long ago that Grayson was in my home, spent the night in my bed, a lot has changed since then.
I am fucking clueless as to why being here makes me so nervous and excites me so much at the same time. What is it about this man that makes me unable to walk away from him?
He lets go of my hand and makes his way further into the expansive home. He has a boyish grin on his face when he looks back at me, then shakes his head. “Make yourself at home,” he tells me before heading into another room.
I admire the décor of the living room, large, plush leather couches framed with dark wooden tables. The pièce de résistance – a ridiculously large television on the wall that looks more like a movie screen than a TV. But, aside from that, it feels – homey. I don’t feel uncomfortable in the space, I feel welcomed.
“It’s not,” Grayson says his voice filled with amusement when he walks back into the living room.
“What?” I ask.
“The TV, it’s not my prized possession if that’s what you were wondering.”
I laugh. Something I seem to do a lot with him. “Then what is?”
He nods his head toward a set of glass doors, “Follow me.”
We walk out onto a covered patio that is more like an outdoor wonderland. Glancing around the TV, hot tub, and bar are easy to spot. But, it’s the soft comfortable furniture, the beautiful flowers, and the peace the space brings me that I focus on.
“This,” he says.
“Nice set-up,” I say.
“I like it.”
“I bet the ladies do too,” I tease.
“There is only one lady that matters,” he states matter-of-factly.
“Oh?”
“Want a drink?” he asks as he heads toward the bar ignoring my question.
I nod. “Tell me about her,” I pry.
“She’s smart, driven, and hell on wheels. But, there’s this other side to her, she’s sweet and caring, even though she doesn’t realize it. And Christ, the things she does to my body.”
“TMI,” I tell him. I toss in a fake laugh for good measure considering I hate the woman he just described for some unexplainable reason. He shakes his head. “What?” I ask.
Handing me my drink, he looks me dead in the eye. “She’s you.”
“Me?” I take my bottom lip between my teeth.
The look on his face says he can’t believe he just admitted that. I’m sure the shock on my own matches it. We stare at each other for a beat.
“Come here,” he commands.
I do as he says and step into him. His hand comes up to my face gently caressing my cheek, his lips gently brushing mine. He steps back and shakes his head in disbelief, a smile on his face the entire time. When he finally moves away from me, he downs the drink he poured himself and places the glass on the table adjacent to the couch.
I eye him curiously, a look of mischief in his eyes. He loosens his tie and tosses it to the side before working on the buttons of his shirt.
“What are you doing?” I ask, though I am unable to take my eyes off him and the show he is giving me.
“What does it look like?” he asks, discarding his shirt to the floor and making work of his belt buckle.
Within moments he’s standing before me, completely naked and unashamed. “I’m relaxing. You should try it sometime.” I watch as his tall, sculpted frame sinks into the hot tub. “God this feels good. Join me?”
“I shouldn’t,” I say. Despite having let him kiss me, I am still trying my best to resist him.
“Suit yourself,” he says as he sinks further into the steaming water, his eyes closing and a look of complete relaxation on his face.
Shifting foot to foot, I contemplate what I should do. I’m petrified of stepping into that hot tub, afraid that in doing so I could very well lose myself to him.
He’s not pressuring me, he’s not trying to have sex with me, he’s… I don’t know what the hell he’s doing. And it’s that right there that has me stripping off my clothes and sinking into the water next to him. A smug smile crosses his face as I do. I reach out and slap his arm.
“Ow, what was that for?” he asks.
“For being a smug jerk.”
“You’re just realizing this now?” he laughs.
We’re not touching, we’re actually not doing anything except sitting here in the warm water. Hell, he’s not even attempting anything, his eyes are still closed, and his head is resting on the back of the tub.
“So, what now?” I ask.
His eyes open and he turns his head in my direction. “What do you mean?”
“You got me in here, so, what do you want to do?”
“We’re doing it.”
“Doing what?”
“Relaxing. Jesus, Sweetheart, haven’t you ever just relaxed before?”
I’m at a loss, unsure what to say without sounding completely crazy. I don’t relax. I work. Then I work some more. And when I’m not doing that, I’m usually… scratch that, it’s is all I do. Well, except for sex. But that doesn’t seem to be on his agenda at the moment.
“Come here,” he says.
I hesitate for a moment, but I scoot closer to him. He rests his arm on the back of the hot tub, around my shoulders, his fingers drawing lazy circles on my arm. I sit there, frozen. His hand comes to the side of my face and presses against it, forcing my head onto his shoulder.
“Music or TV?” he asks.
“Huh?”
“Which do you prefer?”
“TV,” I reply.
He shifts slightly, never letting me go. The glow from the television casts over us, a sitcom of some sort playing. The lead character is making some quick one liner jokes that have me laughing like a fool. Grayson, too.
I don’t think I have ever felt so at peace in my life. In this moment, I don’t have a care in the world. Everything is… perfect. I look over at Grayson, eyes on the screen, a relaxed smile on his face. The man here with me now, is a far cry from the commanding man in the room protecting me from Ivan earlier today. Right now, he’s relaxed, at peace, and happy.
My heart skips a little thinking that maybe I am the reason for that. Not the hot tub or the stupid show, but me. Ashlynn Robbins, daughter of an alcoholic with a habit of dating losers, who did unspeakable things to get where she is makes a kind, smart, and amazing man like Grayson West happy.
The idea terrifies and excites me all at once.
I’m probably jumping to conclusions, but I don’t care. This moment feels so amazing that I just want to revel in it as long as I can. This normal, nothing spectacular moment is just that to me – special and spectacular, something I never realized that I would enjoy.
“You okay?” Grayson asks when he catches me staring at him.
“I’m perfect,” I reply snuggling in closer to him.
He presses his lips to the top of my head. “Yes, you are.”
18
Grayson
I glance over at the woman that is all business, no pleasure most days. Right now though? Fuck if she doesn’t look like all pleasure – relaxed and at ease in my arms. She fought it momentarily. Through mostly closed eyes I watched as she shifted from foot to foot, contemplating whether she should join me or not, wondering what my game is.
Thing is, with Ashlynn, I’m not playing any games. I just like being near her. While it would be a lie if I said that I wouldn’t prefer being buried deep inside her, this is definitely a close second.
My mind is on her and the way she feels in my arms, hers is clearly on the comedy I turned on, a snort escaping
her as she laughs. Her body tenses, her eyes dart around – clearly she’s hoping that I didn’t notice. How could I not though? Aside from the sound of the television, the patio is silent and serene. I contemplate for a moment what to do, how to handle this little moment where she let herself go in a way I don’t think that she normally allows.
So, I respond in the one way that I know she’s hoping I don’t. I snort – again and again.
“I hate you, Grayson,” she says with a laugh as she swats at me.
“I can’t believe you…”
She grabs my head and turns it toward hers, her lips pressing to me in a chaste kiss that she’s using to silence me.
It takes every damn ounce of restraint that I have, but I pull back. “Ashlynn.” Her name is a warning. One that tells her that she is pushing my restraint to levels I may not be able to control, and that the promise I made her about us just being friends, is going to go down the drain. Quick.
She doesn’t move though, her eyes locked on mine. “Thank you.”
“For what?” I ask.
“For standing up to Ivan. For tonight. For… everything.”
“You don’t need to thank me, Sweetheart.” Because I am enjoying this just as much as you. I don’t tell her that though. But, fuck if it isn’t true.
I move away from her and out of the hot tub. I need distance between us because my body is already rigid, filled with need, and ready to take what I want. Her.
I grab a towel and wrap it around my waist then extend one to her. “Grayson?”
She steps out, wrapping the towel around her and moves into my personal space. The exact place I need her not to be.
“Yeah?” I ask, clearing the lump the sight of her naked body left in my throat.
“I mean it. No one,” she shakes her head, “no one has ever taken care of me like this.”
I tuck a piece of hair behind her ear because I can’t resist touching her right now. “It’s my pleasure, I assure you.”
I take her hand in mine and lead her back into the house, down the hallway, and into my bedroom.
Her towel falls to the floor. Correction, she undoes her towel and lets it fall to the floor, come fuck me eyes in full effect.
Is this some sort of fucking joke? Here I am trying to be a nice guy, give her what she needs without being an asshole and taking what I want and this? This is how I am repaid? Fuck me.
“We agreed…”
“I know,” she tells me sauntering toward me.
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
I back up into the safety of the walk-in closet. Clothes. She needs clothes. Lots of them. I slide on a pair of shorts, grab some sweats and a t-shirt off the dresser for her.
“Here,” I say as I return to the bedroom. I shove the clothes at her.
“This is a lot of clothes,” she giggles.
“And yet it’s still not enough.”
I slide under the covers – the more barriers the better. She stands at the edge of the bed staring at me.
“Seriously, Gray?”
For some reason when she calls me Gray, like only the people closest to me do, it fucks with my insides.
“Are you coming or not?” I ask.
“I guess not,” she laughs, but she gets into the bed.
I look over at her. Christ, this isn’t good.
I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her toward me and hold her body tight against me.
I press a kiss to the small amount of skin that the t-shirt lends me access too.
“Goodnight, Ashlynn.”
She takes my hand and brings it to her lips, pressing a kiss to my palm. “Goodnight, Gray.”
***
Last night we sat in the hot tub, laughed, and went to bed. No sex, nothing. I just pulled her into the bed, wrapped my arms around her, and drifted off into the most amazing sleep I’ve had in my life.
I prop myself up on my elbow and watch her. She looks peaceful, almost serene. Completely unlike the woman I met in her office weeks ago. I smile to myself thinking about last night, the stupid show we were watching and the way that she laughed so hard she actually snorted. Despite my teasing, I actually found it rather cute – endearing even.
More than anything I forgot how much I liked this – the everyday. There is something about being able to just be with someone – no sex, no pretenses – that just makes me happy. And fuck if I don’t hate that I’ve found that with the one woman I shouldn’t have.
I think back to what led us here, to this moment; the interview with Ivan and her utter trepidation at it. Hell, even I damn near pissed my pants when I stood up to him. I may not intimidate easily, but hell if staring a murderer in the face and threatening him didn’t have me scared shitless. For her though? It was worth the risk.
I had hoped I set him and his cringey eyes straight from the get go. I don’t know who I thought I was kidding. The man is a sociopath – nothing I said or did was going to subdue him. I held my shit together as best I could and refrained from grabbing Ashlynn and dragging her out of there; to hell with the case, to hell with the partnership, to hell with my revenge.
I held back though. Ashlynn doesn’t want to be rescued. She doesn’t need to be. She wants to earn her place in this world, and I respect her for that. I may not be able to rescue her, but I sure as hell can take care of her. So, I brought her home, to my home, my sanctuary from the insane world. I’ll be damned if seeing her in my space, my home, didn’t change everything. She looked different, I felt different, and suddenly I knew exactly what I want.
Any question as to what I was feeling for her was laid to rest in that one instant. The insanity behind it, the fact that we’ve only known each other such a short period of time, none of it matters. I know in my heart how I feel. Now if only I can figure out how to get her to accept it, to believe in it. Someway, somehow I need to make Ashlynn mine. Because life without her, it’s just not acceptable.
19
Ashlynn
“Stop staring,” I say feeling Grayson’s eyes on me.
I smile broadly into the pillow. I don’t mean a damn word of it. After last night, the man can stare all he wants.
“I can’t help it. You’re breathtaking,” he says as he kisses my shoulder. The same thing he did last night before he drifted off to sleep, the soft sounds of his snores lulling me to sleep shortly after.
“You snore,” I tease him, trying to get back at him for making fun of me last night for snorting. “Loud.” God, I still can’t believe I did that.
“Liar,” he says. His fingers tickle my sides.
I squirm under his touch. “Stop it Gray,” I laugh out.
“Take it back and I’ll stop.”
“Okay, okay, I lied. Please stop.”
I am laughing hysterically when I roll over to face him. His hands are still on me, but the tickling has ceased.
“Spend the day with me.”
“Spend the day with you?”
“Yeah, like hang out, eat meals, have fun. You do know what fun is, right?”
“I am particularly well versed in a certain type of fun,” I reply running my fingers down his bare chest.
“That you are.” Rather than letting me continue, he grabs my wrist to stop me from exploring any… lower. “But I was referring to something a little less – sexual.”
“No sex? Again?”
He gets out of the bed and stretches, his perfect physique on display for my viewing pleasure. “That a problem?”
I sit up in the bed, the sheets wrapping around my body. “No. I just… don’t you want me anymore, Gray?”
He sits back down on the bed. He takes my face in his hands forcing me to look him in the eye, to see what’s there. I see it, I just don’t understand it, the emotion in his eyes so foreign to me. “I want every damn piece of you, Ashlynn.”
His words scare me. The excitement they instill in me, the way they make my heart race – that scares me even more. “I’m sorry, Gray. I
can’t give you that.”
I can’t give anyone that.
“Yet,” he says with a smile. “Spend the day with me, Ashlynn. Please?”
“You said please,” I reply. I’m shocked by the politeness from a man who usually demands.
“I did.”
Run Ashlynn. Leave. But my body fails me. It doesn’t listen. It stays in Grayson’s bed, wearing his clothes, wrapped in his sheets. “Okay.” He smiles, but it’s not smug this time. Just – happy. “But you better make it worth my time, West.”
“Is that a challenge?” he laughs.
“Not… up for it?” I retort accentuating the up.
He shakes his head at me. “You obviously have no idea who you’re dealing with here.”
He presses his hands to the mattress, his face inches from mine. I want to kiss him, taste him, fall back into bed and just be with him. That’s not how he wants to play this, though. We’re just friends. And now I’m the one sitting here desperate to be with him while he rejects every attempt I make.
“Challenge accepted.”
He turns his head to the side and leans into me, his lips slightly parted. I make up the difference in space, moving in closer to him, my lips about to claim his until he pulls back. Asshole.
His chuckle reverberates through the room. He played me and won.
“Why don’t you take a shower, I’ll be back in a minute,” he tells me before heading out of the bedroom.
Every part of me wants to fight him and do the exact opposite of what he says. Yet, here he is being sweet and making me like him. He’s trying to break me down – I just don’t get why.
Does it have something to do with Elliott? Am I a pawn in some game that he’s playing with him? Or is this just some tactic to turn me into a mushy puddle of love and whatever other crap there is that goes along with it to help him get the partner spot? Or is it real? Because it feels so goddamn real that it’s making my head spin.
I stand under the hot water letting it cascade over me. I can’t let him get to me. I have the words on repeat in my mind until I walk back into the bedroom to find a tray of food in the center.
