Which he then unbuttoned.
She’d already seen him, or at least the bulk through the denim, when they were on the sofa. But watching him spring free was something else entirely. That was for her?
Or whoever else might have swiped right.
He crawled over her, removing the rest of her clothes, thoroughly distracting her from the thought. She’d reasonably expected this to be awkward.
But regardless of his disclaimers and creepy voyeur cat notwithstanding, Grady was pretty much everything she thought sex was supposed to be.
Which sucked.
Amazing, sucky sex. Because it was a one-time thing and done, and she’d be stuck remembering how she’d never known anything like it.
Dying from pleasure seemed like an actual thing now.
The headboard slammed the wall, but he didn’t relent. God, she would have killed him if he had. Long, hard, and deep, he drove into her, not just pounding, but holding, drawing her in, looking into her eyes, seeing her. The intimacy of that was too much. It caught her off guard, squeezing at that empty hole in her heart, that void that had never been filled by a moment where she felt adored.
She felt adored then.
She knew it was wrong. A total lie, and one he wasn’t even privy to. But it didn’t matter, because this was her fantasy. Or it would have been, had she imagined it could even exist like this.
Total. Epic. Orgasm.
If he hadn’t been holding her, she’d have fallen over. Or maybe she did anyway, because when all that pleasure drew her under, she couldn’t even see. There was only the sound of their breathing and the telltale ping of what must have been ice against the window. They somehow landed in a heap in the bed, the whoosh of her pulse ambient in the room. Or maybe that was the wind outside the building.
She was still hot when he pulled the covers over her, and after basking in the cool air, they actually chilled her, but Grady drew her into his arms and into that cocoon. Where he held her. Then he whispered, “It’s snowing. You should stay.”
Holy hell, was she in trouble.
Chapter Four
Olivia woke with a knee in her back—not something that should happen to a person who normally slept alone. Her eyes flew wide, revealing unfamiliar surroundings, but her memory quickly caught up with the view.
Hookup app.
One-night stand.
Best. Sex. Ever.
She. Had. To. Get. Out.
She’d planned to sneak off in the middle of the night, as soon as her knees knit back together, but now what looked like the dull beginning of a sunrise gnashed at the dirty window, shedding light on her failure to get away without an awkward good-bye. Which was pretty much the only kind of good-bye that would happen, because she was half-tempted to beg for round two.
More than half. Very. Extremely.
But the last time she’d had sex was the day she’d come home from work two months ago, devastated over losing her job. Someone had sabotaged her, and when her venting turned to dissecting who could have done it and why, her ex had shushed her with sex. When she woke the next morning, he’d gathered the stuff she kept around his apartment and put it in a box by the door. The only note he left was via text to her phone. Sorry. I’m on my way up the corporate ladder, and I can’t risk you dragging me down. Take care.
While she knew with every fiber of her being that Grady wasn’t her ex, she couldn’t give up the one piece of control she had, and that was leaving first.
On her terms.
She eased from the bed in the tepid light, found her pants and eventually the rest of her clothes, then banged her knee on the coffee table when she tried to grab her boots. Only one sock presented itself.
Crap, crap, crap. No way she could walk home a mile in the snow without socks. She turned a useless circle in the gray light, a creepy yellow glare snagging her attention.
That stupid, ugly cat.
Curled up on her missing sock.
“You have got to be kidding me,” she muttered. She scooped up her boots and carried them, hoping to avoid making any noise on the cold hardwood floor, and used her socked foot to nudge the cat.
He hissed.
Loud enough to wake Grady.
And possibly a neighbor or two.
“Would it help if I said please?” she whispered. When the cat didn’t acknowledge her request, she told herself it was the howling wind that kept him from hearing. Which was also a clear indication that she’d need her sock.
Just her luck to survive her first one-night stand only to die by frostbite.
She tried nudging again with her foot, and the hissing turned to a low growl.
Well, crap.
“Do you even have your shots?” she asked, mentally weighing her alternatives. Cat bite versus frostbite.
No good options.
“Fine.” She glanced back at Grady, his breaths even under what had proven to be a very soft, warm comforter. She couldn’t help but remember threading her fingers through those strands, holding on for dear life while he drove into her. The not-so-distant memory filled her with delightfully lecherous thoughts. No bed—no man—had ever looked so inviting. Maybe the sock was a sign she should stay. Or maybe the incredible sex was a fluke. Maybe he’d completely disappoint her the second time and kill the myth. Then she wouldn’t have to go home and think about him.
She hesitated. That was an incredibly solid idea. Something she should get right on.
Like him. She could totally get right on him.
She was staring, probably adoringly, at his dark hair against the pillow—a stark contrast even in the murky light—and at the thickness of his lashes when a burst of wind whacked the window, startling her and the cat, who nevertheless remained no closer to giving up her sock than he had been. She looked around and caught sight of one of Grady’s.
Not ideal but better than dying. She picked it up before she could change her mind.
Yep, she was so going to steal his dirty sock. As she slipped it on, she hoped it was the one from yesterday.
A girl needed standards.
At the last minute, she noticed her phone peeking from under the corner of the sofa and grabbed it, stunned she hadn’t given it a second thought. She checked the time. After nine. Considering the lack of daylight, she’d thought it was much earlier. She shot a look back at Grady. Even breaths suggested he was asleep.
She whispered good-bye anyway as the apartment door clicked shut behind her, the noise echoing in the empty hallway. While stepping into her boots, she noticed her roommate had sent her a half-dozen text messages. Olivia had made it halfway through an I’m alive response when the phone vibrated in her hand.
She accepted the call. Before Olivia could say a word, Emily blurted, “Are you alive?”
Olivia rolled her eyes. “If I wasn’t, who would you think was answering my phone?”
“So you are alive.” Emily’s voice was heavy with relief.
“Very much alive,” Olivia assured her, “and headed home.”
“Good luck with that. The storm is bad.”
“So are these shoes,” Olivia said lightly. “I’ll grab a taxi.”
“No,” Emily said. “I mean bad. Non-essential travel is banned.”
Olivia hesitated on a landing between floors, the echo of her footsteps on the metal stairs slow to fade. “What if I need a taxi for my essential travel?”
“Try an Uber,” Emily suggested. “They don’t work for corporate.”
Olivia’s heart skipped a half-dozen beats. She’d never considered she might not be able to get away from Grady. It was New York City, for heaven’s sake, and she only had to go a mile. An entire mile. In a freaking blizzard. “I’ll try a sled dog if I have to. Or, worst-case scenario, I can actually walk home.”
Emily snort-laughed. “Sounds like it went well.”
“You have no idea,” Olivia said, intentionally keeping it vague. She couldn’t say a bad thing about Grady, and gushing would be admitting
something she had no desire to acknowledge. “Start some coffee. I’m on my way.”
Only she wasn’t, because the door to the lobby wouldn’t open. She slipped the phone into her purse and tried it again and hit a wall. Not a literal one, thank goodness, but one in the form of a body lying in the way. She saw him when she peeked through the crack, finding she probably had enough room to get out if she didn’t push too hard. With that thought in mind, she shimmied through the opening and gave the guy on the floor a wary glance, a bit relieved to see he was breathing.
The relief didn’t last.
After giving what she hoped was a friendly nod in the direction of the prone man, she tugged open the building’s front door to howling wind and a literal wall of white. An ice-cold slap of wintry weather took her breath, seizing her chest and blasting at her resolve. Just not enough to make her change her mind about getting out of there.
“You have got to be kidding me,” she muttered. Desperate, she pushed at the drift that blocked her way.
It gave so easily that she nearly fell outside.
“Well, then.” She brushed off her arms and looked at the sky just as more ice hit her in the face. Or maybe freezing rain. With her face now numb, she doubted she could tell one from the other. But it didn’t matter. The sidewalks were piled with dirty snow, and though the streets had been plowed at some point, they were coated with sheets of ice. She withdrew her phone and found the Uber app. No cars available.
Swearing under her breath as she stabbed desperately at her phone screen, willing a ride to miraculously appear, she stumbled through the doorway and accidentally kicked so much snow behind her that the door didn’t shut. She turned to wrestle with it, knowing she couldn’t live with the worry she’d let the semi-homeless guy in the lobby freeze to death—when a voice cut through the damp air.
“Sorry, Miss. Public transportation is shut down, and travel is restricted due to dangerous conditions. I’m going to have to ask you to stay inside.”
She glanced up to see a cop trying to look authoritative, probably unaware that his bright pink nose made him almost comical. “I’m not traveling. I’m walking. Unless I can get an Uber. That’s not exactly public transportation.” She hesitated when bemusement traced his mouth. “Look, I’m a mile that way.” She pointed in the direction of her apartment. “I promise not to sue you or throw snowballs at public servants. Can I leave?”
“I’m going to have to ask you to stay inside.” He was attractive, she realized, and probably not much older than she was, but sounded more like someone’s father with his orders not to play in the snow.
She hesitated. Worst case, he’d haul her to jail, where she was certain awesome sex would not await. Under normal circumstances, intentionally avoiding any chance of awesome sex would seem ill-advised.
Getting out under these conditions?
It was probably a risk worth taking.
But the pelting ice and piercing wind made her second-guess that, as did landing in a heap when her man-sock-clad foot slipped out from under her, dropping her like a sack on a sheet of ice.
Officer Helpful picked his way over and offered her his hand. “Miss,” he said, “I’m going to have to ask you to go back inside.”
She’d heard him the first two times. Did he not see she was completely desperate? Why else would she be out there, a coordinated wool sock sticking adorably out of one boot, while a white crew towered plainly above the other? “Look, Officer. You’re thwarting my walk of shame, not that there’s shame. Actually, the guy was pretty amazing, but I still don’t want to deal with the morning after, and I don’t know anyone else in the building. I have to get out of here. It’s urgent.”
As she’d spoken, the cop’s expression shifted from boredom to amusement to alarm. “Are you in some kind of danger?”
“No, no danger.” She frowned. “I just need to leave.”
With an admittedly sympathetic look, he said, “If you’re not in danger, you’re going to have to wait. The tail end of this storm turned into an ice event, and everything is coated solid.” He withdrew a card from somewhere inside his jacket. “You have any real trouble, you can call me. I’ll do what I can, but for now, I need you to stay put.”
She waited, hoping he’d relent, but he didn’t. Finally, she gave up and stepped backward into the lobby. She glanced at the card. Officer Montgomery. Thanks a lot, buddy.
With no choice but to return to the lair of sexual perfection, she hit redial to let Emily know she wouldn’t be home, then headed back upstairs.
Chapter Five
Grady waited until the door closed behind Olivia before he did more than crack an eyelid. He couldn’t believe the woman had ghosted on him, though to be honest, he was grateful. The few post-coital minutes before he’d dozed off had been a little too fraught with worry. Should he have put his arms around her? Pulled her closer? Said thanks? Put on his pants? Hell if he knew. He figured protocol should land somewhere between relationshippy schmaltz and shoving her out of his bed with his feet, but that was quite a swath, the waters far from navigable.
So he let her go.
Definitely easier that way.
Eyes bleary, though he’d slept like a rock, he pushed back the covers, seeing no trace of her. She was definitely gone, which meant she must really have wanted to get away from him.
That bit of news stung, as did the cold. He hoped the building heat wasn’t on the fritz again. He found it utterly ridiculous that though his brother-in-law co-owned with his family an entire HVAC business, Grady remained in a building where the heat tended to fritz as often as it worked. He could easily afford to move. He should probably look into that, but he generally didn’t hate it there. At least he knew what the inconveniences there were, whereas anywhere else would be a crapshoot. Besides, he almost liked Hell Cat.
On his feet, Grady looked outside to find the world utterly white. Not even the usual grayish muck that became of all the snow, though perhaps the howling wind hid some of that. Sleet tinged against the window, and he wondered if Olivia had actually made it through the door, or if she was stuck in the lobby. Earl, the resident homeless guy, would probably love that.
If she was stuck, she might prefer staying downstairs to seeing Grady again. But he wasn’t going to leave her in the lobby, no matter how uncomfortable he was. He thought about inviting Earl up, sort of as a diversion, but for years now, the old man had steadfastly refused to leave the ground floor. Not even for a hot meal, which Grady knew because he’d invited him up more than once.
Thoughts lingering on Olivia, he found his clothes, minus one sock that had ended up who knew where, and headed out of his apartment, but he didn’t get far. As he pulled his door shut, he heard her voice.
“…completely hot but seriously can’t do this again. I almost died.”
Well, that was good to know.
He cleared his throat. Seconds later, Olivia peeked around the corner from the direction of the stairs.
“Am I flattered,” he asked, “or should I be concerned about your mortality?”
Her eyes narrowed, though she managed to look absolutely mortified despite it. “I have to go, Emily. I’m fine, really.” She tapped her phone, ending the call.
“Near death and fine?” he asked, not bothering to hide his amusement. At least he guessed he might be amused, despite the potential for insult.
Ashen, she said, “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”
“I figured. I was going down to the lobby to make sure you had made it out okay.”
“That was more of a compliment,” she said, tugging on that knit hat as if it could hide her. “Two months ago I lost my job after some hired hacker blew holes through my unfinished program, and the next day, my boyfriend dumped me because he couldn’t handle the association. I wanted sex without worry of getting unceremoniously dumped. Something that guaranteed I’d be able to walk away. I did not need amazing sex that I’m not sure I can readily forget, so yeah, I can’t do that
again.”
He stared, feeling a slight sense of unease that completely overshadowed the part where she’d credited him with amazing sex.
She shifted, drawing his attention as she hugged herself and worried her lip. “I came back because I might need to stay a while. If that’s all right. Though if it isn’t, there’s a cop outside who won’t let me out of the building who you can argue with.”
“I try to avoid such situations,” he said dryly.
“What?” she threw back. “Seeing a woman again after sex?”
He lifted his brow. “Actually I meant dealing with the cops, but by jumping to that conclusion and assuming the worst, you’ve nicely illustrated yet another thing I hate about relationships. Would it kill you to give me the benefit of the doubt?”
Her eyes flashed, and for a moment she looked hurt, but then she blinked and irritation poured back in. “This isn’t a relationship.”
“Which makes arguing with you over the goddamned weather even more ridiculous than it already was,” he shot back. Remembering the cat, he knocked on the neighbor’s door, even though she couldn’t have been inside. No way she’d allow noise in the hallway. She’d have hitched that twenty-pound purse in her grip and come out swinging with less of a reason than they’d given her.
After a moment of silence, but for the wind howling and sleet tapping with the force of a sledgehammer, he reached back and twisted his door handle, giving it a shove to open his apartment to her. When she didn’t move, he made an exaggerated sweeping gesture with his arm.
“And you say you don’t believe in romance,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“I believe that was more of a sarcastic gesture,” he pointed out. Then with all the saccharine politeness he could muster, he added, “Do come in.”
“Thank you,” she muttered. Then she met his gaze. “I do mean that. I know you didn’t sign up for a morning after.”
Her words caused a twinge in his chest. No, he hadn’t, which made wanting it all the more bewildering. He’d found himself hoping for that easy escape for reasons he hadn’t expected: he was far too willing to face that morning after—a clear sign that he needed to do anything but. Worse, he didn’t want to admit to himself that he was kind of glad to see her again. Especially snapping at him, because he’d sort of figured out the day before that she did that when she was nervous.
One Sexy Mistake (Chase Brothers) Page 3
