The Price_Greyson and Sasha's Story

by Ruby Rowe

  “I love you, Greyson Burke, with my whole heart, so the anticipation of sharing that with you makes me nervous. It’s exciting, but I’m ready with eyes wide open now.”

  Smiling, I lift my eyebrows, making my eyes rounder. “See. I won’t close them. Promise.”

  “Nope. Not yet.”

  I sling my head back. “For the love of God, please make me orgasm. I’m dying here.”

  “Aren’t you doing it yourself?”

  I jerk my head down, and my eyes manage to become even rounder.

  “No, are you?”

  He chuckles. “Yeah, and I think about you the entire time.”

  “Greyson,” I whisper. “When?”

  “In the shower.” I look away as the thought of him touching himself makes me blush. He thinks about me while he does it? That turns me on.

  “You’ve touched yourself before, right?”

  I shake my head, and he pulls my chin back to face him.

  “Baby, are you kidding? Not even with your fingers?”

  “Not even? What else would I use?”

  He laughs. “Toys, and you’re missing out. It would help ease the ache, and you’d be in control. You can get comfortable with having something inside you. Actually, I think it’s a great idea.”

  “Oh, my god. Stop.”

  He chuckles again, and he’s so attractive that I have to look away to breathe. He grazes the back of his hand down my cheek.

  “I love this warm, flushed look on your creamy skin.” I fall against his chest, and he wraps me up in his arms.

  “I love how sweet you are. I guess I’ll go back to my office and suffer through this agony.”

  “Think about how much better it will be when we finally do it.”

  “I do think about it, silly. That’s why I’m straddling you in your office.”

  The intrusive buzzer on his desk phone goes off, and I sit right up.

  “Mr. Burke, Thomas Bledsoe is on line one.”

  “Thank you, Kaylie.”

  Clutching my hips again, he kisses my cheek.

  “I have an errand to run later, but I’ll be back in time to pick you up at five.”

  “Sounds good. Love you.” Reluctantly, I move off his lap, and after straightening my skirt, I leave his office and head to mine to work on the billboard ad.

  I don’t know how I’ll concentrate after hearing about what Greyson does in our shower while fantasizing about me.

  ***

  “My brain hurts from thinking today,” I say to Greyson in the elevator up to the penthouse.

  “I bet you were thinking about me showering.” He laughs, and I shove his firm shoulder, but he doesn’t move an inch from how strong he is.

  “Yes, I’ll admit it crossed my mind, but I was also working. I hope you’ll like what Andrew and I came up with today for your next billboard.”

  “I’m sure I will. I’m glad he’s receptive to your suggestions.”

  “He’s really great.” The doors open, and as I’m stepping out, Greyson turns me around and pulls me to his chest.

  “What do you mean he’s great?”

  “He’s great about listening to my opinions and using my ideas.” The doors close as Greyson sucks my bottom lip into his mouth. He presses a kiss to my cheek and my ear.

  “Promise me you won’t think he’s too great,” he murmurs. Grasping his shoulders, I lean back.

  “Tell me you’re not jealous of Andrew.”

  “Just promise.”

  “I promise, but it’s ridiculous. You’re stuck with me, Mr. Burke. Never will I want another man.”

  “Good.” Flashing a sly smile, he reaches over and pushes the button to reopen the doors. “I bought you a present today.”

  “When did you have time to do that?”

  “That was my errand I ran.”

  “What is it?”

  “A rabbit.”

  “Oh, my gosh, I’ve never had a pet before. Where in the world are we going to keep it?” I can’t get off the elevator fast enough as my pulse quickens with excitement.

  He laughs. “It’s in your old room, and you can keep it wherever you want.” After opening the front door, Greyson barely gets to step back before I barrel past him. I drop my purse on the floor and run down the hallway.

  I enter the spare bedroom on the left and glance around, but no bunny. I look again, and spotting something on my bed, I walk over to it.

  No. He. Didn’t. “Greyson!”

  Greyson

  Tears flood my eyes from laughter after Sasha screams my name right in front of me. Her back’s to the doorway where I’m standing as she picks up the vibrator on her bed. The Rabbit vibrator.

  Spinning around, she pins me with a dirty look that I don’t even think Exorcist Whitney ever displayed, and she held a PhD in 1st Class Bitch.

  “Tell me there’s a real bunny.”

  “No, are you crazy? We can’t keep a rabbit in this penthouse.”

  “Greyson, I was excited. I thought you bought me a pet. I’ve always wanted one.”

  I wipe the tears from my eyes, and as soon as I spot the ones coating her pretty gold irises, the joke’s over.

  “Shit, I’m sorry.” I hurry inside the room to hug her, but she pulls away and examines the vibrator in her hands.

  “Aren’t you clever?” she quips as she blinks away her tears.

  “I try to be, but it appears to have backfired. Sasha, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s OK. I understand you were trying to be cute.”

  “I was also trying to lighten the situation we’re in. I thought this might help, and I meant what I said today about something like this making you more comfortable before we have sex.”

  She holds up the pink vibrator that’s still in its package, and a slow … wicked … satisfied smile unfurls from her lips.

  “Hmm, maybe this is what I need.” She tugs and pulls on the packaging until she has the silicone vibrator removed and in her hands.

  She wraps her fingers around the top and slides them down it like she’s stroking a dick. Shit, this idea is backfiring twice. “So, this part would go inside me?”

  “Yes,” I say as I tug on my collar.

  “And this here”–she touches the part of the vibrator that looks like a rabbit attachment–“it rubs my clit while the rest is deep inside me, right?”

  “Shit, you’re gettin’ brash, Ladybug.”

  “I think I like this.” Her fingers play with it as she examines its parts, and I’m battling a hard-on. She lifts her eyes to give me a scornful look. “I would’ve preferred a real rabbit, but I see how this could be fun, too.

  “I wonder where I should give it a test drive. In our bed? The bathroom? Hmm ... I think I’ll take a long, hot shower right now.” Picking up the package, she reads the back of it. “Awesome, it’s waterproof.”

  I purse my lips. “I know what you’re doing, and I didn’t buy it so you could tease me with it.”

  “I’m not teasing you. You’re more than welcome to educate me on how to use this delicious-looking instrument. Don’t I need to lubricate it first? Is there a certain way I should slide it in?”

  I swipe it from her hands. “OK, fun’s over. I see I didn’t think this through.”

  “What’s wrong? Getting turned on?”

  “I stay turned on in your presence.” Picking up the clear plastic package, I fumble as I try to put the vibrator back inside it. Now, I can’t get the images of her using it out of my head. I was an idiot to think this would distract the both of us.

  She swipes it back. “I’ll be nice. I won’t talk to you about it, and you can just imagine I’m taking longer in the shower because I’m deep-conditioning my hair.”

  I smirk. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s going to work.”

  “Maybe I’ll wait. I mean, think of how much better it will be when we finally use it together.”

  Clenching her waist, I yank her to me.

  “You drive me crazy, chick.
I can hardly wait until I get to have my way with you.”

  ***

  “No! Don’t!” Sasha screams, waking me from my sleep. We shoot up in bed at the same time, and I wrap an arm around her back to pull her to me. Her skin’s clammy, and she’s trembling.

  “It’s OK, baby. Everything’s all right. You were only dreaming.” Placing fingers at the outer corners of my eyes, I pull them inward. “Shit, Sasha, I’m such a dick. I’m sorry I bought you that gift yesterday.”

  Her head shakes fast, and I notice how hard she’s breathing.

  “My nightmare was about Christopher. He almost killed Cammy. He almost took her and Liam from me. What if he had?”

  Shit, she’s dreaming about the shooting.

  “But he didn’t. He’s behind bars and will never hurt you or your family again.” Her whimpers change to deep breaths as she struggles to calm down. “Do you want a cold washcloth or glass of water?”

  “No, I only need you to hold me.” Falling back on the bed, she grabs my arm to bring me with her, so I lie down on my side and pull her back against me to hold her.

  Feeling her trembling body makes my chest tighten, and if I wasn’t half asleep, I’d be ready to kick Christopher’s ass. Too many men have hurt my girl, and we’ve both been robbed because of it.

  Sasha

  Hearing the knock on my open office door, I look up, and Greyson is staring back at me. He grants me a faint smile, and the uncertainty in his eyes reveals he’s sticking his toes in the water to see if it’s hot or cold.

  “Hi,” I say. “Come in.” He shuts the door and strolls over beside my desk. Offering his hand for me to take, he pulls me up from my chair and hugs me.

  “I can’t handle the silence. Tell me you feel better than you did last night and this morning?”

  I look up at him. “I do, and I’m sorry I was quiet on the way here. I needed time to process what happened. It’s the first nightmare I’ve had since the shooting, so it caught me off guard. It’s been almost two months, so why did I have one now?”

  “You suffered something traumatic, Sasha. You were shot while trying to save your family.”

  “Still, the timing is strange.”

  “Maybe it’s because you’re going to counseling tonight.”

  I shrug. “Maybe.”

  He grins down at me. “I came to tell you that Andrew showed me the ad.”

  “Oh. Are you here to tell me you don’t like it?” My gaze flits to the floor. “Don’t think you can’t tell me because of last night. I’m a big girl and can take it.”

  “I came to tell you that it’s incredible. I’ve been waiting for the perfect branding, and this is it. The logo and slogan about the power of three are going to be plastered on everything related to G. Burke Enterprise.”

  “Wow, really?”

  “You told me you both came up with the ad, but Andrew said it was entirely your design. You need to stop with the modesty.”

  “It’s not a big deal.” I pull away and sit down at my desk.

  “Why do you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Discredit everything you accomplish? You should be proud of yourself. It’s a huge deal when you haven’t taken a single marketing class.”

  “I’ve watched a lot of television, and I overanalyze weird things like how attorneys on billboards grin like nerds. That hardly makes me special.”

  Leaning down, Greyson clasps my chin and turns it so I’m forced to look at him.

  “I don’t know what course I need to take to make it happen, but I’m going to learn how to build up your self-esteem. Maybe with time, you’ll see it, but you need to own this accomplishment right now since I’m going to tell everyone about it. Soon, it’ll be on display for the entire city to see.”

  “You like it that much?”

  “Yes, it’s perfect, and anyway, now that I know you’d be making fun of my cheesy face on a billboard, we have to use your design.”

  I giggle. “I wouldn’t make fun of you. Like I told Andrew, I’d be wondering if I’d ever be lucky enough to find a man like you. That’s what I’d be thinking if I were a woman driving by your billboard.

  “With this ad, the potential client is told what kind of person will represent them. You’re so much more than a handsome face, and I thought it was important for people to know that.”

  He kisses my forehead. “Thank you, and you’re amazing, so be proud, OK?”

  “Sure.” He leaves me alone, and I think about the ad. Instead of his image, I kept it simple in its visual design and packed a punch in the wording.

  In a book I bought on marketing, it said to utilize the power of three, so I thought I’d even utilize that phrase. The book said people remember the first three items or choices they hear or read about.

  More choices will often confuse them, or they won’t retain it. Add the fact that people only have seconds to read a billboard, and it would be a waste to fill it full of information. I decided less was more. I click on my laptop to view the design again.

  G. Burke Enterprise

  Using the power of three to win your case.

  Diligence.

  Ingenuity.

  Integrity.

  Instead of Greyson’s image to the left, the way Andrew had it, I designed a triangle with a court gavel inside it. I worried he and Greyson would think it was plain, but I guess I was wrong.

  I can’t wait to show this to Cammy and Ellis. It’s important they know I’m trying to do more than only keep it together. Along with Greyson, I owe the two of them so much.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Sasha

  No matter how sweaty my hand gets, Greyson doesn’t let it go. I look at the clock in the waiting room of the therapist’s office. Two minutes. She could possibly come out here to get me in only 120 seconds.

  “I’m sorry my hand’s sweaty,” I whisper, hoping it won’t prompt Greyson to let it go. I’d curl up in his lap if we were alone. I glance to the man across from us, and I’m curious as to why he’s here.

  Is he waiting on the person who’s talking with the therapist now? I want to ask him. I need to know if other people’s problems are as jacked up as mine.

  Greyson kisses my temple, so I lean my head over against his shoulder. I feel his arm wrap around me next before he pulls me in close. I turn inward, wishing he would pick me up and carry me out.

  “I’m scared,” I say before I begin to weep.

  “Do we need to leave?”

  “No. I have to do this, but I’m so afraid.” My weeping is like ice slowly cracking apart on a frozen lake until I’m a frigid puddle of tears. I’m being forced to thaw–to feel.

  “I should go inside with you.”

  “No, but please don’t leave. Please, Greyson, don’t leave me here.” I clutch his shirt at his chest, and as I clench my eyes shut, it pushes the tears over my bottom lids, and they tumble down my cheeks.

  No longer carrying about the man in the room, I let the tears carry away a small fraction of my nervousness and pain.

  “I’m not going anywhere. My ass is glued to this chair. I’m so glued to this chair that I’d piss my pants and still not get up until you wanted me to. Hell, I’d shit in 'em, too.”

  Surprised by Greyson’s remarks, I giggle against his chest. The door to our right opens, and our bodies tense before I sit up. The woman, who I’d guess is in her fifties, is laughing with another lady who’s not much younger.

  They’re talking about dirty laundry accumulating fast, and I wonder if I can get away with discussing only laundry and how Theresa insists on doing mine, too. Once the younger lady walks over to the man in the lobby with us, I hear my name.

  I jerk my head back to the older woman, and she’s smiling at me warmly. Her pink slacks and white blouse give her a welcoming appearance, too.

  “Are you Sasha?”

  “Hi, yes.” Wiping my eyes, I pull my hand free from Greyson’s, but they stick together for a second from my sweat and his
firm grip.

  “Remember, I’m right here if you need me,” he whispers.

  “I know. It’s the only reason I’m here.” I stroll over to the woman, and she opens the door she’d just exited.

  “We’re going down the hall to the first door on the right,” she says.

  “OK.” After glancing back at Greyson, I pass by the therapist and walk down the hallway to her office. Once there, I take in my surroundings.

  There’s a desk shoved against the wall to my right, and almost in the center of the room, is a wide floral chair with a matching ottoman.

  “Feel free to sit wherever you’d like,” she says. I glance to my left and see two light green chairs with a small table between them, so I walk over and sit in the one closest to the door.

  As she takes a seat in the wide chair I’m now facing, I notice the green color on my chair match the leaves attached to the flowers covering hers.

  “I’m Katherine Bower, and you can call me Katherine. Is it fine to call you Sasha, or do you prefer another name?”

  “Sasha is fine.” She writes something down on a paper inside the tan chart she’s holding, so I look at the artwork hanging over her desk.

  It’s a painting of an ocean and sandy beach. There are two empty wooden lounge chairs resting in the sand, so I imagine Greyson and I sitting in them.

  “Is this your first time seeing a therapist?”

  “Yes.”

  “It takes great courage to open up to a stranger, so pat yourself on the back for taking a step many people never have the courage to do.” I don’t feel brave, but I give her a faint smile. “I want to begin by asking you about your medical and family history, and then we’ll discuss what brought you here today.”

  I swallow the bile rising from my stomach. I picture a frozen lake again as the thought of answering questions about my parents sends a shiver down my spine.

  First, she asks about my medical history and is astonished to know I’ve only been to the doctor a few times in my life. I tell her about my rehab hospitalizations and watch as she makes notes.