by Mia Carson
Tears welled in her eyes, but she angrily brushed them away before they could fall. “I found out that they dumped me at the local church, like a donation, when I was born, so no, I never looked for them. What’s the point when you’re not wanted? But I guess you’d know more about that than me.”
She turned on her heel and told Carrie she was catching a ride back to campus with her. Molly and Mel muttered to Greyson, but he threw his hands up and stormed off to his office, slamming the door behind him. Within twenty minutes, Belle was packed and ready to go. Mel and Molly helped load everything into Carrie’s car, and Belle walked out of Greyson’s house, carrying the rose he left on her pillow, wondering if she’d be back.
***
For days, Greyson puttered around his house a wreck, staring blankly at Belle’s favorite places to sit and work, read, even take naps when the pain meds got to her in the early days. He’d run his hand across the couch and picture her there, smiling when she saw him walk in. The bruise on his jaw faded, but he wished it hadn’t.
She was right. Everything she’d told him was right, and he’d been a jackass. All she wanted was to help him get over his past with his dad and what did he do? Rub it in her face that she was an orphan because her parents chose to leave her.
He didn’t text her the first day, but every day since, he'd picked up his cell first thing in the morning and called her, leaving her voicemails filled with apologies and texts begging her to forgive him. He even said she could deck him again if it would make her feel better, but there was no response. Every morning, though, after he tried, he’d check his e-mails and find them already answered for the day, his schedule taken care of, and his online inbox filled with forms needing to be signed. Even pissed at him, she still took care of him.
“I don’t deserve her,” he muttered Wednesday night when there was still no response. He ordered a bouquet of roses to be sent to her dorm room, hoping she’d at least give him a chance to talk it over. All day, he waited to hear from her, but nothing.
He fetched a bottle of whiskey from the cellar and opened it, ready to drink away his idiocy and hope yet again that their fight hadn’t actually happened. When he sat down behind his desk, there were three texts from Belle. He fumbled with his cell, dropping it in his hurry to check them, and smiled at the first picture. She’d gone to the doctor’s office that morning, and her cast was gone. The break wasn’t as bad as they’d anticipated, and she was good to go. The second said by Monday, she’d be back at the office to work, and the third was a picture of her with the roses he'd sent.
His cell beeped, and an alert for a voicemail popped up. He played it, leaning back in his chair to listen to the one voice he could never get enough of. “I know you’re going to want to call me the second you hear this, but please don’t. I'm not going to lie, I'm still pissed at you, but I understand why you said what you did. I know you’re sorry and I forgive you, though punching you again did cross my mind.” He smirked and rubbed the spot on his jaw. “I know this has been rough for us both and it’s new for me, at least, and maybe even weird for you, but when I start work Monday, I want us to move past what happened last week. Maybe we can pick up where we left off. Or start with dinner… I don’t know, and I’m rambling, so thanks for the roses, I love them, and I’ll see you Monday.”
The message ended, and he set down his cell. She said not to call, but his thumb hovered over the redial button for five minutes before he reluctantly set his cell on his desk. He took the bottle of whiskey and walked out of his office to avoid further temptation. Monday. He couldn’t see her or talk to her until Monday. Until then, he would think of all the ways he’d make it up to her when she returned to the office and hope she let him spoil her without a fight.
Chapter 8
Monday morning, Belle wasn’t sure what to expect when she arrived at the office, but another bouquet of roses at her desk was a nice surprise. What wasn’t was the fact Greyson was treating her as just another employee again. They’d had a few moments alone in his office the first afternoon, but every time she moved closer to him, he’d start to lean in and pull back. By Tuesday, she purposely wore a sweater that clung to her curves in the hope of breaking whatever caused his courteous behavior. Her cast was gone, she was healed, and he should’ve been dying to tackle her, but he kept his distance again.
He wasn’t rude and didn't ignore her, and one time she swore he was going to ask her back to his house again, but he fumbled the words and rubbed the back of his neck as his face flared red. He muttered something about a late meeting and disappeared for the rest of the day.
Again, he was too scared to take the next step, and Belle’s emotions were torn between wanting to tackle him to the floor and leave him until he made up his mind—if he ever did. She couldn’t believe anyone could be this indecisive. They talked briefly the next day, and she suggested they have dinner that weekend, but the worry in his eyes told her he would find a way out of it. The bear of a man had hurt her, but it seemed like she was able to get over it easier than he could.
Thursday night, she tore through the bags of items she’d bought from the lingerie store and made a decision. One final chance. She’d put the ball in his court and make him decide.
Friday afternoon came and went, but Belle stayed content at her desk, working through the day. Greyson’s voice echoed out from his office, low and deep, washing over her skin like a heavy rain. It would be another hour before the floor would clear out completely and she could corner him. A note had been left on her desk while she was at lunch, asking for a dinner date, but the writing was not Greyson’s and there was no name so she tossed it, disappointed. If Greyson didn’t accept her challenge tonight, it was clear there were other men in the office watching her.
Finally, Tim waved as he moved towards the elevators. The floor was empty, completely void of workers. Greyson was still on the phone. He had several later calls to make, but she wasn’t going to let him finish.
“This is it,” she told herself. “You can do this. You want him and he wants you, and it’s time to stop playing games.”
She stood and pushed her chair in quietly. Greyson faced the windows as he talked on the phone, not noticing her as she strolled into his office, closing and locking the door behind her. As gently as she could, she lowered the blinds over it and made her way around his office. When she reached the left side, he finally saw her and frowned, one brow raising in question, but she didn’t stop and didn’t speak. He followed her, swiveling his chair as she closed the last blind, giving them complete privacy.
When she reached the front of his desk, she yanked her sweater up over her head, revealing part of the lingerie she wore beneath. Greyson dropped the phone and quickly snatched it back up when the person on the other end asked if everything was alright.
“Fine, just fine… sorry,” he muttered.
He swallowed hard, and she grinned as her fingers trailed down her body to the button of her jeans. She kicked out of her heels, undid the button, and dragged the zipper down, revealing even more. This was the one piece she had to have the day they went shopping, and when she kicked her jeans away, placing her hands on her hips, and spun slowly so Greyson had the full view, she smiled.
His face was priceless.
The red lace outfit had a halter tie around her neck. It connected to a lace top, cupping her breasts already growing heavy with want from his heated gaze. Two red straps wrapped around her back, hooking at the side. Another piece of lace stretched down her flat stomach, connecting to the lacy thong, with three straps going around each side to her ass, bared for him to see. The best part was yet to come, but he would only get to see that if they made it that far.
“I have to… have to call you back,” he said hoarsely and hung up the phone. “Belle?” He rose and walked slowly around to the front of his desk but didn’t approach her.
“I don’t know what game you’re playing,” she told him fiercely, “but I’m making you decide right h
ere and now. Either you want me as much as I want you, or you’re just dragging me along for kicks. If it’s the latter, if you don’t admit that you do care for me and want this for both of us, I’m walking out that door.” He didn’t say a word, and her resolve faltered slightly though she didn’t back down.
“I’m serious, Greyson. Our relationship might be crazy, it might blow up in our faces, but damn it, I think I’m falling for you and I’m not waiting—”
Greyson was across the room and had her in his arms before she could finish speaking. His mouth captured hers hotly, and the storm brewed around them, surrounding them in heat and passion. In his arms, his lips crushed against hers as his hands ran through her hair. Belle knew there was a chance for love to grow. He kissed her deeply, his tongue exploring her mouth as his hands squeezed her shoulders before moving over her bare sides, gripping her hips as he ground his erection against her.
“You had to wear this?” he growled, and his fingers trailed over the bands to her ass. “You’re trying to kill me.”
“Maybe,” she replied and moaned when he sucked on her earlobe. “Greyson, I want you. I’m not going to wait, not any longer.”
He picked her up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her to his desk. With one swipe of his arm, he cleared everything off the top and set her on it. He nibbled her neck, then lower. When his tongue licked the mounds of her breasts, she shivered in his arms and pressed his head closer, wanting him to feel every inch of her raging for him. There was no going back now, no running away. He tugged the lace to the side and pulled her nipple into the warmth of his mouth. She gasped, her hands holding his head as he sucked and teased, lathering the sensitive flesh until she squirmed on his desk. She moved one of her hands lower, reaching for his erection, and when she felt it this time, there was no trepidation at his size, only a hunger to feel him fill her, to swell even more inside of her.
She rubbed her hand against him, but his hand captured hers and dragged it away, holding it instead. “I want to feel you,” she whispered, moaning when he switched to her other nipple, tugging mercilessly on it.
Her thighs rubbed together, every cell in her body screaming for his attention, and the storm grew in intensity until Belle feared she’d lose her grip and fall. Greyson’s hands trailed down her sides, tickling and teasing as his mouth released her nipple, leaving her panting. When his hands slid up her thighs, her eyes met his, and the predatory need to possess his woman was plain on his face. Her hands fell on top of his and moved with him up her thighs. They shifted, and she spread her legs, enough for him to see the other bit of this lingerie.
“Jesus,” he grunted, and his jeans strained so hard she almost expected the zipper to bust. “Spread your legs for me, Belle,” he whispered as he moved her hands to the surface of his desk. He returned to her inner thighs, and slowly, she spread her legs. She thought, at first, she’d be embarrassed to have him staring so openly at her hot sheath, soon to hold him, but she wasn’t. In fact, watching him stare at her with a driving hunger spurred her on even more.
Biting his lip as if trying to control himself, Greyson moved his hand inwards, caressing her inner thigh until she couldn’t stand it.
“Spread them wider,” he commanded in a deep growl.
His tone sent a fresh wave of shivers down her spine, and she did so, revealing all of her glory, visible in the crotch-less panties. She expected to feel his fingers as she had their first time together, but when he fell to his knees, she frowned.
“Greyson—oh, God… oh, wow… what are you…?” She trailed off as a moan tore from her throat and her chest heaved. His tongue thrust deep inside her, and her whole body hummed as electricity like a bolt of lightning shot through her.
Her toes curled, and when his hands gently pushed, she obliged, spreading her legs as wide as she could to accommodate him. He lifted her legs, placing them over his shoulders, and kissed down each thigh before his dark brown gaze landed on her. As she watched, his hand crept forward and tugged her clit, rolling it between his fingers before he lowered his head again and sucked on it hard. Belle’s moan turned into a sharp scream of pleasure, his fingers twisting and turning as they stretched the deep recesses of her womanhood. The orgasm he gave her the first time was nothing compared to this. She fought to get away at the same time she begged to be closer, for it to never stop.
Her inner muscles clamped hard on his fingers as he continued to penetrate her, licking her swollen lips. Every inch of her warm folds pulsated with intense pleasure that continued. He plundered deeper within her, using his other hand to spread her lips and lick every bit of her silky flesh. His fingers pulled out, and she shivered at the loss, but the pleasure was far from over. He moved his fingers against her, up and down her folds, spreading her wetness.
“You’re incredible,” he grunted. “I could listen to your screams all night.”
“Then why don’t you?” she gasped, which crescendoed into a scream when he plunged his fingers into her and his mouth clamped down on her clit, nipping and sucking until she could scream no more.
“Be careful what you wish for,” he whispered and gave her clit one final suck before she collapsed on the desk, laying back across it.
Greyson stood as she panted, struggling to catch her breath. She sat up on her elbows and watched as he tugged his shirt over his head. He reached for his jeans, but she moved and rested her hands over his.
“Let me,” she said, the words dripping with want.
His hands fell away, and he sucked in a breath through his nose when she quickly undid his jeans and shoved them down his hips along with his boxers. He pushed them the rest of the way down and stood before her, naked for her to see. His hardened shaft bobbed, and he was definitely as large as she’d felt. She stared at it for a long second before her hands reached out and gripped his scorching hot, pulsating member in her palms. He cursed as his body shuddered.
Belle grinned and ran her thumb over the silky skin of the crown, spreading the pre-cum already there. As she ran her hands up and down, all the way to the base, his hands reached up and undid the string of the halter, tugging the fabric down from her breasts. They were so heavy and swollen, one brush of his fingers made her clench him even harder, rubbing her hands faster against him.
He swelled more at her touch and twitched as if seeking her succulent, wet center crying out for him. When he tried to pull the rest of her outfit from her body, she resisted, wanting to hold him longer and watch him squirm. She hopped down from the desk, and gripping his hips firmly in her hands, closed her lips over his aching arousal. The salty taste of him encouraged her, and she sucked hard, taking in as much of him as she could. His hips bucked and his hands buried in her hair, but the moment didn’t last long. He yanked her back up, tore the rest of the lace from her body quickly and placed her on his desk. He spread her legs wide as she lay back.
The second his rigid length pressed into her folds, rubbing against them, her back arched, wanting him to plunge into her.
“Slow,” he growled as he took her hips. “We have to take it slowly. It’s your first time.”
“I’ll be fine,” she promised, and when his tip pressed against her, she shifted, taking the crown of him within her.
“Belle,” he warned, but she did it again, wanting him to fill her.
His hips moved away before he spread her lips wide and slid slowly within her warmth. She ached for him, and as he stretched her inner walls; her nails dug into his forearms, driving him to move faster. He pulled back and plunged in a little deeper. She winced at the painful pinch, but he didn’t stop and she didn’t want him to. The third time, she barely had half of him, and the pain was there, but her desire to have him possess her outweighed the pain.
She dug her nails in even harder, and when he thrust this time, she met him and he filled her completely, seated firmly between her thighs. Belle cried out, and he quivered, buried deep within her body. She waited for him to panic as the
pain subsided, but when he pulled out, it was not all the way. He thrust back into her, and she cried out, still sensitive. His hand moved from her hip, and his thumb massaged and rolled her clit as he plowed into her, driving her across the desk until his other hand tightened on her hip to hold her still.
“You’re so hot,” he grunted. “God, and wet.”
That she was and so was he, filling her with a heat so intense, she was lost in the crazy storm of their budding love. Just as her inner muscles tightened around him and the pleasure built within her, he pulled out, but he wasn’t finished. He gripped her arms and pulled her to her feet, turning her around, and wrapped one arm around her waist. His knee spread her thighs, and as she bent over the desk, his hands kneading and massaging her breasts, he drove into her again, harder, filling her in a split second. He thrust quickly and powerfully. Seconds later, his warmth filled her as he swelled, and she held onto him tightly, pleasure wracking her body until all she could do was fall limp against the desk and in his arms. He lifted her body, kissing her neck sweetly and her shoulders, their hips still moving as they rode out the storm together. His body quivered as much as hers did. Carefully, cradling her against his body, he tumbled them to the floor in a heap.
He shifted his hips gently and pulled out, leaving her empty and craving him again.
Still panting for breath, she rolled over. He smiled wolfishly back at her as he raised a hand and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “So,” she asked, “is it always like that?”
His deep laugh vibrated through her as he dragged her close and kissed her. “With you, I think it will be. Does that answer your question? About me wanting you?”
“Am I going to have to wear dirty lingerie every time?” she retorted.
He kissed her again, his hands trailing down her back to cup her ass as he rolled her over until she straddled him. “Maybe, but after tonight, we’ll try to make it to a bed.”
