“Someone other than her.” She turns her head in indignation and meets my gaze.
“Well, if that’s how you feel, tell me exactly why you don’t like her and I may reconsider.” I lean in further, planting a soft kiss on her cheek and I whisper in her ear, “I’ll even reward you for your effort.” With that I leave her in the gym and think about what I just offered.
In the guest bedroom, I head into the en-suite and push down my shorts and boxer briefs. My cock is solid steel thinking about Mila. Pushing the button on the automated shower system, I wait a moment for it to heat before stepping under the warm spray.
Every muscle in my body is tense, needing relief and release. Gripping my shaft, I stroke it to images of her in those tiny skirts she loves to flaunt her ass in. Her breasts—a perfect handful—taunt me from her skintight tank tops. Long jet-black hair I’d love to wrap around my fist while I’m pounding into her for being a naughty little girl has my body shuddering with a release that elicits a groan from my mouth.
Opening my eyes, I lather up and try to wash the memories of what I’d just done away, however, I know I can’t. Once I’ve rinsed the soap suds off, I turn off the shower and step out into the chilly bathroom and grab a towel. Wrapping it around my waist, I place both hands on the basin and stare at my appearance. When did it all change? How did she weave herself inside me? I’m a man whore, I love women, I love pussy, but right now, the only one I want is her.
“Grayson,” a sweet, melodic voice jolts me into the present and I turn in time to find Mila standing in the doorway. “Can I get a ride to the mall? If you’re going into town.”
She’s changed already, dressed in a white tank top that hugs her tits like a glove. A pair of shorts which stop high on her slender thighs. Her ballet flats adorn her pretty feet, and her long hair is loose down her back in waves.
“Sure, Kitten.” Stepping toward the door, her green eyes flit down my chest which is still wet from the shower. Heat burns in those moss colored pools. “Was there something else?” I question, my body is only inches from hers.
She peers up at me, her small frame would fit perfectly in mine. “I uhm…” her words taper off and I wait for it, hoping with everything I am she’ll say something, give me consent to kiss her. “I’m sorry about last night. And, thank you for giving me a lift.”
They’re not the words I want; the hope that was bubbling in my chest dies.
“You don’t have to apologize, sweetheart, I just worry about you. And you know I’d do anything for you.” I lean in, inhaling her scent. Sweet like candy, bubblegum and cookies. And I’ll be damned but I want to taste her.
“Anything?” she asks in a honeyed tone. The playful flirting immerges quickly and her eyes sparkle with mischief. The air is thick with swirling desire, so thick you could cut it with a knife.
I lean in, her scent engulfing me, “that’s what I said, Mila. I’m yours…” my tone low and gruff against her ear, “so you’re welcome to take what you need.” The promise so evident, so fucking clear what I want and need from her. Chill bumps dot her smooth skin and I can’t help the smirk that lifts the side of my mouth.
“I’ll remember that, Uncle Grayson,” she murmurs so quietly I would have missed it if we weren’t so close. I step away and just like that the spell is broken.
“Good girl,” I step past her, strolling into my walk in closet and retrieve a pair of boxers. Awareness prickles my skin and I know she’s still close. Dropping the towel, I step into my underwear and a faint audible gasp comes from behind me and I realize she was closer than I thought.
I turn slowly but when my gaze lands on the door it’s empty. She must have scurried out after getting an eyeful and I can’t stop the satisfied chuckle that rumbles through my chest.
Chapter Three
Mila
Jesus, his ass.
Fuck.
Oh. My. God.
As soon as I’m in the safety of my bedroom, I lean against the door and try to calm my heart rate. I don’t know if he knew I was there, but my feet were cemented and as much as I wanted to run, I couldn’t. His body looks like it’s been carved out of marble. Thick muscled thighs, an ass you could probably bounce a quarter off, and that back is chiseled to panty-melting perfection.
He’s your uncle, Mila. Well, step-uncle, if that’s even a thing.
As much as that mantra plays in my head I can’t stop the dirty thoughts of him from running through my mind. A knock at my door jolts me from the images. “Kitten, you ready?”
“Yes, I’ll be out in a minute,” I call out in response, hoping to have a moment to myself.
“Okay, I’ll be in the kitchen, don’t be long, I need to get going.”
“Yes, Grayson…” I drag out his name which earns me a chuckle and I’m sure he’s shaking his head at me. Grabbing my phone and purse, I make my way down to the kitchen to find him drinking his coffee. “I’m ready when you are. Where’s Dad?”
Lifting his gaze, he corners me with those deep chocolate pools. God how I love to drown in them. “He’s getting ready now, he’ll meet me at the office,” he responds before downing the last of his drink and grabbing his keys and wallet. As we head out to the car, I can’t help dragging my gaze over the way his shirt hugs his chiseled torso.
He pulls out of the driveway in silence. Something in the air has the hairs on the nape of my neck raised in anticipation. Reaching over, I turn on the radio, hoping the music will drown out the desire that seems to hang thick in the air around us.
“I want to get a tattoo,” the confession spills from my lips and I turn my inquisitive gaze to his. He doesn’t flinch, eyes trained on the road ahead.
“And what is it you’d like inked on your skin, Kitten?” he questions with an indifferent tone.
I shrug. “I want something small. Nothing over the top, since Dad would kill me.” I smirk playfully at the thought of having the tattoo on me forever.
“And when you’re tired of having it, then you’ll want it removed,” he responds confidently, but still doesn’t meet my gaze, “where did you plan on getting this tattoo?”
“It’s a surprise, I think I’ll get it today,” lifting my chin, I inform him of my decision, waiting on a reaction which doesn’t come. All he does is nod.
When we pull up to the mall, he turns a darkened gaze on me, his mouth lifts on the one side into a sinful grin. “You do realize your father is going to have a fit when he sees his little girl with ink on her?”
“Possibly, but where I’m planning on getting it, Daddy won’t see it,” I quip playfully with a wink. Hopping out of the car, I blow him a kiss and make my way into the large building that houses stores and stores of incredible designer clothes and something amazing housewares. Although, that’s not why I’m here. My appointment is in ten minutes, so I make my way directly to Rusted Ink.
Stepping into the intimate store, I take in the deep blue and red colors that decorate the walls and chairs. There’s only one other person sitting on the sofa. “Can I help you?” A voice thick and syrupy beckons for me, and when I turn I’m knocked breathless.
The man must be in his late twenties with dark stubble dusting his jaw. Deep set green eyes the color of grass pin me to the spot, holding me hostage as if he’s got his hands all over me. Tattoos cover every inch of visible skin and I find myself licking my lips involuntarily.
“You can, I’ve made an appointment for ten,” I step forward, holding out the email confirmation. He glances at the book in front of him and nods.
“Mila,” he affirms in a smoky tone, “I’ll be doing you today, what are you getting and where do you want it?” His question catches me off guard because the way he says it doesn’t sound like he’s talking about a tattoo, more like an invitation to find out what he’s hiding in his boxers.
I may look innocent, but I’m far from it, so I know when a man’s tone changes from an everyday one to a low, sultry rasp that’s filled with need. That’s how I know Gray
son wants me because I’ve heard it before.
“I’m getting two kitten paws, they’ll be on either side of my hips,” I point to where my shorts currently hang low on my waist and he nods.
“Great, let’s get you in the back,” he pushes off the stool and as soon as I enter through the black door the sounds of a needle buzzing grab my attention. There are two cubicles separated by curtains. The tattooed man ushers me into the empty one, and points to the empty bed, “lie down and shift those shorts down so I can see what I’m working with.” He heads back into the main area of the store and I close my eyes, inhaling deep breaths.
Hooking my thumbs in the waistband of my shorts, I shrug them down just enough for him to be able to see where I want to be inked. When he returns, he takes in my position and his eyes darken considerably when he notices the sheer black material of my panties.
He doesn’t say a word while he works, cleaning the area on either side of my hip bones. “Did you have a personal preference on color, or are you happy with just black?” I notice he’s got two print outs of the tiny symbol I sent them when I made my booking.
“Black is perfect, thank you,” I offer a shy smile and I’m afforded a wicked one in return. One that slowly disintegrates my nerves and has my heart thudding in my chest.
My father is going to kill me, but I can’t deny the thrill of doing something forbidden. I close my eyes and think of Grayson’s hungry gaze filled with desire, soon he’ll see me as a woman and then I’ll make sure he shows me exactly how badly he wants to spank me.
Chapter Four
Gabriel
“Is that all you needed from me?” My brother nods. The meeting went well, since we’ve just signed a deal with an affluent software company to have them on our books. We’ll be doing all their marketing and upcoming branding campaign.
“Yeah, they’ll email us the finalized contract and we’re good to go,” he nods. Grayson and I didn’t have the easiest childhood growing up and since we partnered up to open Connor Media we’ve grown closer. “I wanted to take my niece out for her birthday,” he says smoothly, meeting my gaze. I know he loves younger women and my protective instincts kick in when he mentions Mila.
“Oh?” My response is clipped and I get the look. He narrows his dark eyes, fixing them on me. Even though he’s younger, he’s got a good head on his shoulders. At thirty-two he’s four years my junior, but the way he conducts business you’d never guess.
“I figured, since you’ll be taking Brigitte to Miami that weekend, I could take Mila somewhere special.” We’ve had this conversation too many times. He knows how I feel about her being alone with him. His feelings for her have shifted over the past few years and since she’s turned eighteen, I’ve seen the way she looks at him.
“Is that a good idea? Being alone with her?” Grabbing my phone and wallet, I push off the chair and stalk around the desk, but don’t meet his stare. My phone rings and I ignore him and swipe my finger over the screen. “Hello, Princess,” I murmur, even though I know he can hear me.
“Dad, I’m done. So whenever you’re ready I’ll wait at entrance four,” her tone is chirpy, like she’s up to no good, which I can only imagine is the tattoo Grayson mentioned earlier. “Oh, and say hello to Uncle Grayson,” she giggles before hanging up.
“Look, I know what you’re thinking, but I’m responsible. She will be safe with me and we have fun,” he chuckles but I pin him with an angry glare.
“Don’t be an asshole, you think I don’t notice the flirting between you two?” He doesn’t respond, only laughs, but the twinkle in his eyes tell me all I need to know. “I need to go.”
“Tell her Uncle Grayson says he’s bringing her some treats this weekend,” the gruff tone of my brother calls after me as I head out the door. I don’t respond; he’s being a pompous ass, as usual.
Slipping into the plush leather seat of my Benz, I turn on Mila’s favorite playlist on the iPod and head toward the mall. I know she’s got a tattoo, and if I have to be honest, I can’t fault her for it. She’s an adult and even if I denied her getting one, she’d do it.
Since her mother died three years ago, I’ve wanted her to move in with her aunt, her mother’s sister, but she refused. Saying she’d rather spend time in the home where her mother was last, made her feel closer to the woman she lost. I wanted her away from Grayson, but if she’s adamant he’s the one for her, I’ll support them. As long as my brother turns his life around.
Even though there were times she frustrated me with her rebelliousness, she’s never been a disruptive teen. As a child she preferred sitting in her bedroom reading or working on her art projects. She now has two months before she heads off to college and I’m afraid. I’ll never admit it, but I’d prefer if she stayed in the city, went to study at a local school rather than head off to New York or some place where I can’t see her every day.
Pulling up to the mall, I find entrance four easily. Before the car comes to a stop, Mila comes bounding toward the car with a biggest grin on her face. She pulls the door open and I see her wince. “Hello, Dad,” she leans in and her candy floss scent hits me immediately. Planting a chaste kiss on my cheek, she sits back to regard me. “How’s Uncle Grayson?”
“Fine,” I can’t help feel a twinge of wariness at their connection. I’m not scared of her loving him, I just want him to make a choice. If it is Mila he wants, it should only be her he’s with. They’re not related by blood, and I don’t know how to handle seeing them together. Because deep down I know Grayson cares for her. More than I’d like to admit.
“Just fine? How was the meeting?” She’s always been interested in our work and I have a feeling she’ll major in advertising, which makes me proud I’ve had such a profound effect on her.
“It went well, we signed the deal. We’ll be doing all their marketing and rebranding,” I tell her proudly as we head home. The song changes and she squeals in delight at the band on the radio.
“That’s great! I wish I could work for you,” she murmurs and I cut a quick glance at her. She pouts playfully and I can’t help chuckling. I’d like that too, and I’m sure my brother wouldn’t mind at all.
“You can, if you’d like to of course?” I hint and her gaze darts to mine.
“I do, but I’ll need to finish school first,” she responds and I nod in agreement.
Broaching the subject, I answer cautiously, “then why not stay in Seattle to study?” We’ve spoken about this when she was sixteen and even when she’d turned seventeen, but she’s always refused.
She’s quiet for a long while and I feel as if I fucked it up.
I pull into our driveway and park the car. Once the engine is turned off, I turn to face her fully. “Mila, I didn’t mean to—”
“Yes.” Her deep green pools regard me. A smile lights up her face. “I’d like to stay here, in Seattle I mean, and with you.” Her voice drops on those last two words and I tip my head to the side.
“You do?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” She turns and once again, I see the wince.
“Are you okay, Princess? You look like you’re in pain?” I question calmly, knowing exactly why. She must have gotten that goddamn tattoo Grayson told me about.
“I’ll show you inside. Let’s go, I’m hungry.” Mila says quietly. Without waiting for me, she pushes her door open and leaves me in the car staring after her. Exiting the car, I lock it and follow my princess up to the house. When I enter, she’s in the kitchen leaning against the kitchen island drinking a glass of juice.
“So…” I prompt, stalking toward her, keeping my eyes trained on her. “Am I going to see how you mutilated your body?” Her eyes widen in shock and her mouth drops open, and then closes again. “I’m not stupid, Mila, and I wasn’t born yesterday, let’s see.” I gesture with my chin.
I have tattoos, and a piercing which was a drunken mistake, however after I got it done my girlfriend didn’t complain so I kept it. Even Mila’s mother enjoyed the sensati
on.
Watching my little girl unbutton her shorts has me wondering just what the hell she did. My heart hammers against my rib cage painfully and I have to stifle a groan when she shoves her shorts down just below her panty line. There, on either side of her hip bones, are two paws. Jesus. Fucking. Christ.
“You got two fucking tattoos, Mila?” I growl. Her head snaps up so fast and her brows furrow in confusion at my outburst. Fuck. Even I’m confused at my outburst. But I realize it’s not that she got them, it’s that she must have had to drop her pants for a stranger. I just hope to god it was a woman who did the ink on her body.
“I thought you—”
“Tell me it was a woman who did it?” Scrubbing my hands over my scruffy jaw, I try to calm myself down, but the image of my daughter lying on a table while some fucker touches her drives me fucking crazy.
“God, what the fuck is wrong with you?” She suddenly bursts out, through the haze of anger, I glance up and find her glaring at me.
“What did you just say to me?” My voice is controlled, low and gravelly, and from the expression on my face, she must know I’m livid.
“Nothing…” she pouts, but this time I’m not falling for her little girl act. If she wants to be an adult she better start acting like one. So many times over the past year I’ve looked at her and seen not my little girl, but a woman. An adult. Someone who challenges me. When I was married to Louisa, I didn’t look at another woman, let alone entertain the thought of growing old with anyone but her. When she died, my world collapsed around me, it was Mila who dragged me from the dark to the light. Her light.
“Mila Connor, do not ignore me,” I command and her eyes meet mine.
“I’m not, I’m just tired of you looking at me like a fucking child.” The curse word falling from her lips don’t anger me like a parent would be, they make me want to chuckle at my daughter growing up.
Dirt Road Promises Page 14
