by Red Garnier
“Graves? Man, you’re scaring me.”
Graves shook his head, inhaled again, and exhaled long and slow. “I want her so bad I feel like she’s opening me up and cutting right through me.” He dragged his hands over his face in despair.
“You want her as in…”
His face shot back up. “As in, I’ll kill you if you touch her. I wouldn’t even have to set a finger on you. I’ll just program your door to shut on your goddamned face.”
“Wow, you’ve even got the method down.”
“I’m not bluffing, man. And in case you’re wondering, yes, I’ve lost my fucking mind, but it’s too damned late now to do anything about it.”
“Holy shit, you have lost a screw! What the hell are you going to do with a social butterfly like Chloe? She won’t come to heel when you command her like your toys, Graves.”
“Thanks for the shit input, Dr. Freud,” he snapped.
“You’re very welcome,” Luke said coolly. “But I definitely have to say all your troubles are due to the fact that you grew up without a mother. If you’d been exposed to even a fraction of some healthy maternal love, like myself, you wouldn’t have any problems accepting a woman’s affection.”
Graves snorted. “At least I didn’t lose my virginity to my old nanny.”
“Ah, now you’re giving me a boner.” Luke sighed and pushed to his feet. “Well, why didn’t you say you were going suicidal, Grave face? Chloe’s all yours, dude—don’t worry about me. I’ve got the entire city of Chicago at my disposal. Plus, I’m kind of relieved I won’t have to handle that slight inconvenience of dealing with Daniel…”
“Are you supposed to pick her up tomorrow or are you meeting her there?” Graves demanded.
“Meeting here there…” And Luke, with that mischievous sparkle in his eyes, dished out all the details.
Chapter Three
After a night of no sleep, Chloe rushed the next morning to make it by nine to the Ralph Lexington Orphan Home, a small two-story orphanage that had been founded by her great-grandfather. She rushed through her shower, rushed through breakfast, rushed on her drive, and she even rushed on her way into the building. And every nanosecond of every one of those moments, she did the same thing she’d done while lying sleepless in her bed at night.
She relived Graves’s kiss.
Over and over, she’d rewind, pause, rewind, replay…
She felt so haunted, so gripped by that moment, she could not push him out of her head. His raw, forbidden taste teased and tantalized her. His heat. His groans. His hands. The way he’d drawn out the moment…teasing her and somehow, making her want it so much more…
God, she had to stop thinking about it. Being in a daydreaming state all through the day with the children would just not do. Plus Luke would be here today to motivate the kids, and she had to be sharp and clear-headed when she exposed her plans and hopefully enlisted his assistance.
But definitely, a “pretend affair” with Luke was in order.
Shuffling into the great room, Chloe greeted Lisa and Marie, the two caretakers on standby, with a hug and a kiss, discovering that they’d already gathered the kids into several rows of perfectly lined chairs for Luke’s presentation.
Children of all ages lived in the home, boys and girls, some of them so lonely you could just break in two when you met them. Luke always made them laugh, though, and he never showed pity for anyone. He called them his “compadres” as though they were equals and dazzled them with his easygoing personality.
Chloe just loved to see them smile and therefore tried to bring a guest in at least once a month.
“All right, children, today I am having a very special guest who you might…”
Tittering and fluttering spread across the room, and suddenly all the little heads before her turned toward the swinging doors. Chloe heard a strange sound like the continual click of a thinking computer from that direction. Puzzled, she twisted around, and her eyes widened when a huge man-sized robot walked directly toward her.
With a bright red rose stretched out.
“I…” Oh my God, what is this?
She seized the rose with a hand that started to tremble. The robot turned to its audience and in a deep, robotic voice, told the children, “My name is Prototype R45, but my friends call me Tot.”
The kids started screaming “Tot! Tot!” He talked and moved fluidly, lifelike, like Iron Man except this was a real robot with no man inside. The gold-and-black outer suit gleamed, and he had the kids in his pocket in a mere instant. They were screaming out his name like it was Michael Jackson.
Chloe’s heart fluttered like it had grown a thousand wings—because of course there was only one business in the entire United States that handled this level of intelligent robotics, providing the government with some of its most advanced intelligence weapons.
And it was not Luke Preston’s billion-dollar underwear business that did this.
Heart lodged up in her throat, she scanned the crowd as the robot continued speaking, and she spotted Graves with his dark head bent over and a shoulder propped against a wall. He held a small pad in his hand and busily typed instructions with deft fingers. He looked…there were no words.
In a dark designer suit and an orange Hermès horse-patterned tie, Graves Buchanan was the sexiest, most quietly vibrant thing Chloe had ever seen in her life. His ebony hair shone under the lights, his skin beautiful and tan contrasting with the starchy collar of his crisp white shirt. He was princely and elegant in his business suit; tall, handsome, with his beautifully proportioned body making her mouth water and his symmetrical features and striking face making her want to melt to the floor.
She kept waiting for him to make eye contact with her, but he didn’t.
He kept handling the robot, loving every minute of it—she could tell by the occasional twitch of his lips, and it made her own lips curve upward, too. All the kids went crazy when the robot started impersonating voices of famous people, making special moves that matched what he said.
Not a single one of these children noticed the dark, reserved man who handled him.
But Chloe had eyes for nothing else.
She noticed Graves’s lips would curl into a smile a good few seconds before the robot said something funny and the kids laughed. His fingers were long and tanned and the tips of her breasts had never, in her life, felt so excruciatingly sensitive against her bra than when she saw those hands move, every inch of her body dying to be stroked by those beautiful long fingertips.
Then Tot spoke to the kids, saying in a crisp robotic voice, “Thank you for spending time with me today! Before I leave, I will leave you with something to think about. You see, I was born in 1993 as an idea in the mind of an orphaned kid like you…”
Kids glanced at each other in wonderment, and even Lisa and Marie exchanged a meaningful look.
“It actually took over a year to gather all my parts, and to build me out of all the things people didn’t want anymore. Old radios, old telephones, old TVs. I was so ugly in the beginning and there wasn’t much hope for me. But here I stand with you today. One of the first of millions of robots spread all across the world. We’re your protectors, your loyal workers, and your friends.”
A wave of soft, innocent “wows” spread across the robot’s captivated audience, and Chloe was touched by the awed manner in which the kids gazed up at Tot, like he was the greatest invention since lighting.
“Quitting was never an option for us. And if it had been, then I would still be all metal parts with nothing to hold me together. I’m so glad I wasn’t given up on. And I sure hope you never give up on your dreams, either. So those ideas in your head? Your hopes? Your ambitions? Keep them alive in your heads at all times—all times. No matter how tough it gets, it can only get better. So, believe you can do it, find your own ‘Tot’ and make good things happen!”
The orphans cheered in utter captivated delight at those last words, and Chloe’s windpipe clamped shu
t with repressed emotion. She hadn’t really paused to think about this aspect of Graves’s personality. How he had grown to feel more comfortable with equipment—predictable, controllable, and reliable—than with the chaos he had grown up with.
Orphaned, from foster home to foster home, he’d been a runaway. He’d never had a real “education,” but he was so smart and so hell-bent to pull himself upward. He could’ve become a hacker. A thief. An alcoholic or a drug addict like the ones Danny said he used to “bunk” with at fifteen.
Instead, Graves had forged himself into a man of honor and character, keeping his eye on the ball and not on his empty basket. He didn’t drink so much as a drop of alcohol, having been surrounded by crazed alcoholics. He despised anything that even hinted at a remote lack of brain sharpness, much less a loss of control. He was organized, methodical, careful, and patient. Admirable, because despite his enormous power, he didn’t fuck up the people or institutions who had failed to provide him with safety as a kid. He was a man who looked to the future instead of the past. He was tough, street smart, and a fighter to the end. He was hard but fair, and always harder with himself than with anyone else. And just look at him now. He was so…perfect to her. Even if he didn’t like kissing, touching…
Chloe could not think of a man she admired more and wanted more.
In fact, she couldn’t see why she hadn’t thought of inviting him to the orphanage before. But he was such a reserved man—he didn’t enjoy attention like Luke did—that Chloe hadn’t wanted to put him on the spot. Silly, now that she thought about it. He’d turned out to be so motivating in such a real way, she was utterly dazzled. No makeup, no gloss, no Luke Preston bullcrap. Graves was real and raw.
The sudden thought of him as a little boy with the sad, lonely eyes in an orphanage crushed her.
While her insides burst with emotion, Tot began dancing to “Thriller” to wrap it up and the kids screamed in delight. Chloe laughed in surprise. She started edging in Graves’s direction as the kids jumped to their feet and formed a circle around the dancing robot whose moves could put MJ to shame.
Graves approached the circle to watch the robot’s feet, but Chloe continued advancing toward him, her eyes on his beautiful profile as she fervently wished those golden eyes would turn and acknowledge she was here.
She noticed he’d slipped the keypad into the pocket of his jacket, as though the dance routine had already been wired and programmed into the robot.
Her heartbeat accelerated. Then, she was there. Right beside him. Her elbow grazed his jacket sleeve, but with the music and the shouts all around her, she couldn’t really talk to him. She clutched the rose in her hand while at the same time moved her free hand the tiniest fraction in search of his. His knuckles brushed tantalizingly against the back of hers, and she held her breath.
Though he stood watching the robot at her side, Graves surprised her when he hooked his index finger around hers. Desire flooded her. The move was so unexpected it made her tremble with longing inside. He squeezed her finger meaningfully with his and then he gently tugged her aside. Chloe helplessly let him guide her weakened legs to follow him to the fringes of the circle, where the music wasn’t so loud.
He stopped at the very edge and positioned himself behind her, his hand sliding down her arm and resting at her hip. Her heart hammered and her skin tingled and her entire system went on hyperalert. And for a moment she just wanted to stand here and enjoy this. Being with him. His scent. The heat of his hand.
She kept her eyes on the robot as his front pressed intimately into her back. The heat emanating from his body spun through her. The smell of his aftershave teased her and dizzied her. His lips bumped her earlobe when he spoke, his voice a seduction of its own.
“When?”
She didn’t understand, and whispered, “What?”
His hand squeezed her hip. “When do you want me? When can I have you?”
A silence.
Her heart dropped and then jumped sky-high, and her toes curled in her Jimmy Choos.
“I…have social work tomorrow,” she forced herself to answer. “The children expect us to do handcrafts…”
“Saturday then. Your birthday.” His voice dropped to a thick murmur. “Do you think you can keep your hands off Preston until then?”
Thrilled with the possessiveness in his voice and words, she turned her head sideways and smiled tauntingly. “I don’t know. Do you think you can keep from handcuffing one of your ‘friends’?”
His slow smile was full of promise and sexual innuendo. He bent to her ear again. “Tease me all you want, Chlo. Because Saturday, I’m the one who’ll be teasing you.”
Chapter Four
Chloe woke up to Danny’s tickle torture and a loudly whistled birthday tune. Screeching when his fingers dove into the sensitive spot of her underarm, Chloe twisted in her bed sheets, wide awake now, and screamed, “No, Danny, no, stop!” until one leg kicked free and landed a good one right in his balls.
“Oooff!”
He collapsed on the side of the bed.
Chloe’s heart stopped. She groggily sat up and surveyed his motionless form in growing alarm. “Danny?”
He was hunched over, hardly even breathing, and then he growled, “I thought you’d want nephews in your future, goddamn it, Chloe!”
“I’m sorry,” she said, knee-walking over to hug him.
He attacked her with a laugh that indicated he had been acting this whole time and she squealed once more, flailing and kicking as he tortured her. “You cheater, you, stop it, you jerk, when I have a boyfriend I’m going to tell him to punch you!” she screamed, and then he pulled back with a frown, and Chloe frowned at herself, too. Because when she’d said “boyfriend” she’d pictured Graves’s dark, forbidden face in her mind.
And sadly Graves didn’t do girlfriends.
“Boyfriend?” Danny repeated the word in the disgusted tone he’d use to say “cow dung” as he straightened, already dressed for work in a sharp designer suit, his hair slicked back to reveal his sharp model features. “Is he the one who blows up your mouth like a goldfish? I don’t like that motherfucker. Give me his name again,” he demanded.
She smirked. “You won’t get it after this now.”
“Ah, little sis, your innocence astounds me. I’m going to get anything I ask for when you see your present,” he said cockily, brow raised as he handed her an all-access card for his Global Express jet worth a quarter of a million dollars.
An amount which would basically fly her…anywhere.
“Seriously, Danny?” The Lexington family owned a Gulfstream 650, powerful and luxurious and one of the best private jets money could buy, but Danny had his own jet, which was just as coveted but far, far edgier. He’d had it custom made with a huge flat-screen TV, a bar, WiFi, a bedroom in the back, a large sitting area up front, and speakers that would make you feel like Lady Gaga was right there flying with you while she sang her heart out. Danny’s jet was like a bar/disco on air and always ready to party.
“Yep, I’m dead serious, sis. Fly anywhere, invite your friends, have a blast, and put your hotel bills up on my black card.” He kissed her forehead, his green eyes—just like hers—twinkling in mischief. “Just be sure to call the pilots at least an hour in advance so they can have the flight plan ready.”
Chloe worried her lower lip. “Danny…I was going to spend the day here.”
He flashed his drop-dead grin that he was famous for and rumpled her hair. “Well, now you don’t have to stay here. Go to Vegas, Chlo. Hell, go to Monaco. Spend a week there.”
“But I’d rather stay here…today. If that’s okay.”
Thankfully, he didn’t read too much into her reluctance to go out and have a blast and enjoy her twenty-fifth birthday, for he shrugged easily. “Do it any day you’d like, then.” He nodded from the door, that heart-stopping, white smile still in place. “But have a happy birthday, all right?”
“I will,” Chloe promised as he
left. She stole a look at the lone red rose in a simple crystal vase on her nightstand, and the butterflies burst to life in her stomach as she thought of Graves—and what they would be doing together today.
It was all she could think of, fantasize about, and dream of as she started her day, answering a thousand texts, Facebook messages, e-mails, and messages on her iPhone.
Then the presents came…
Her friends had donated a thousand dollars in her name to Global Giving. Her parents? A cool million and an unlimited shopping spree at Saks. Chloe spent a couple thousand on a pair of crystal Jimmy Choo stilettos, a kick-ass emerald-green Herve Leger bandage minidress, a sexy Agent Provocateur black lace bra and panties, and a Brazilian wax.
She had lunch with seven of her friends, including her best friend Whitney Donahue, and afterward told them she couldn’t hang out anymore. Whitney, who was no fool by anyone’s standard, pulled her aside at the valet. “Hey, Vicky Secret, why so mysterious today?” she laughingly said.
Of course Whitney knew how Chloe felt about Graves, just as Chloe knew that under the gold bangles Whitney always wore, she had a man’s name written on her wrists.
Chloe was desperate to shout to the top of her lungs and tell her dearest friend that the world was probably going to stop turning and she might end up in a pile of ashes tomorrow because she was sleeping with Graves tonight! But she was so afraid anything—anything—ruining her evening, she quickly brushed Whitney’s concern aside with an easy, “Just have a crazy day today.” And then she drove home to soak in the tub with lavender.
To anyone else who called, she said she was busy tonight. Busy prettying herself for Graves while lusting and waiting for him and caressing her skin with the bright red rose he’d given her two days before. Busy getting wet and excited just thinking about it. Thinking about him. Remembering his kiss, his eyes.
