Silk Stocking Inn: The Complete Series

by Oliver, Tess

  I picked up the breakfast tray, now merely a platter for the few leftover scone crumbs, and headed out the door. I passed the spot in the hall where Grayson had trapped me between his wet, hard body and the wall. Instantly, I felt a tickle of heat swirl through me. It had been the most sensual evening of my life. I was sure every other night with a man would pale in comparison. That grim conclusion left me feeling a little empty.

  I could hear the continual activity on the roof, the occasional beat of a determined hammer and the buzz of a table saw, which helped squelch the butterflies I’d been feeling about running into the man again. After all, he’d seen every intimate inch of me. I’d exposed myself to him and let him take full advantage of me. The idea of seeing him sent a mix of emotions through me. Anxiety laced with dread and thrill was probably the most concise way to describe it. Although that was hardly concise at all.

  Coco was rolling out pie dough as I carried the empty tray into her spacious kitchen. “Just put it in the sink.”

  “Do you need some help?” I asked. “It’s been awhile since I baked pie, but when I was younger, I always loved helping my grandmother.” I walked over to the kitchen work island where Coco was rolling dough. Cubes of butter were piled up next to a stack of cinnamon sticks and a basket of apples. I picked up a green apple and the peeler. “Peeling was my job.”

  “Absolutely.”

  I slid the peeler over the fruit. “Thank you for the clothes. I will have them cleaned and mail them back to you once I get home.”

  “No worries.” She lifted up the rolled out dough and lowered it over the dish. “It’s for Grayson. He’s been working so hard on the house. I decided to make him an apple pie. He doesn’t have anyone to bake him pies at home.” She wrinkled her nose conspiratorially as if we were sharing a secret.

  I decided it was my opportunity to learn a little about the handsome stranger whose name I’d been crying out in ecstasy the night before. “So, he’s not matched—attached to anyone?”

  She shook her head rather indecisively.

  I laughed. She turned to me. A wide streak of flour crossed her forehead. “What was that laugh about?”

  I concentrated on my task as I answered. “It was nothing. I’m sorry. It’s just that I’ve never met anyone who was so skilled at giving nebulous answers to very simple straightforward questions.”

  It was her turn to laugh. “I suppose that’s true, but my philosophy is that nothing should ever be simple or straightforward. Nebulous is much more fun. Leaves so much more room for interpretation.”

  Just then the backdoor swung open. I didn’t need to turn around to know who had walked inside. The sound of his work boots on the wood floor made my hands tremble. I had to concentrate not to peel my hand instead of the apple. I pretended to be extremely absorbed in my job as he circled around to the front of the work table.

  The scent of fresh cut wood and sweat mingled with the fragrance of cinnamon. “Impossible,” I muttered to myself as I dropped the apple I’d been holding. It bounced off the table and onto the floor, where it continued its escape plan by rolling beneath the stove.

  Coco put her hands on her hips and stared at the stove. “I think that one’s a goner. Good thing I have extra.”

  “Sorry about that.”

  My gaze barely flicked Grayson’s direction, but he had no problem staring unabashedly at me. He even seemed to be taking pleasure in watching me squirm under his unflinching scrutiny.

  Grayson picked up one of the apples. “Interesting. I don’t really picture you as the pie baking type, Jessi.”

  He was taunting me to get my attention. Of course, he already had it. Every inch of me was at full attention with him standing just a few feet away.

  I finally stopped to look at him. Probably a mistake. How on earth could a layer of sweat and a fine film of dirt and sawdust look so damn appealing on someone? His face was more suntanned from being up on the roof. It made his eyes look bluer. Not that they needed it since they were already like deep lakes of azure. And now, it seemed, I was writing poetry in my head about the guy.

  Coco reached over and took the apple from my hand. I looked at it. I hadn’t realized that I was still peeling it. Only peeling wasn’t really a good description for it. Decimating was closer. I’d taken it nearly down to its core.

  “Jessi, why don’t you take that walk, and I’ll finish the pies.”

  I wiped my hands on the dishtowel. “Probably a good idea.” I walked confidently past Grayson’s gaze but was feeling anything but self-assured. This, I reminded myself, was what happened when I let down my usual guard. Last night, I’d crumpled, I’d given into my urges convinced it would be no big deal. Now I was dealing with the consequences. I just wasn’t sure how to define the consequences. It should have been embarrassment and shame, but instead, I was feeling something much deeper, something akin to regret. I’d thrown caution and propriety to the wind, and somehow it had left my heart vulnerable, a heart I’d worked hard to protect from unnecessary things like love.

  I could feel Grayson’s gaze still on me as I hurried out the back door.

  “Just take the path along the honeysuckle bushes,” Coco called as the screen door snapped shut behind me.

  11

  My feet landed on the backyard lawn, which seemed to stretch on endlessly. I glanced around. The fog had lifted, leaving behind a bright blue sky that was dotted with just the right amount of white puffy clouds to make it look as if it belonged in a storybook. None of the scenic surrounding landscape made sense. One turn down an unfamiliar alley could not have taken me this far from the city. And yet, I couldn’t see the outline of buildings or hear the sound of traffic. I was standing in a perfectly bucolic setting.

  I decided to take a detour from my walk and rounded the side of the house. I strode past the ladder and an array of tools, including a tool belt that I briefly imagined slung around Grayson’s naked hips like the towel. I shook the disconcerting image from my mind and headed toward the front yard.

  A sudden scary thought occurred to me. My borrowed boots hit the ground hard, and I picked up my pace as my heart raced ahead. I stopped and released a sigh of relief. My car was still sitting right where I’d parked it.

  I turned back toward the house and the walking path. Now assured that my car was parked just out front, ready to take me back home, I felt relaxed enough to take a stroll. Then I would head in, pack up and drive away from this strange place for good.

  Just as my mind went to the notion of leaving the Silk Stocking Inn and never looking back, Grayson walked out of the back door. Leaving here meant never seeing him again, another thought that should have brought me relief. But it didn’t.

  Grayson leaned against the side of the house, next to his ladder, and watched me as he ate an apple. I tried to pretend that I hardly noticed him standing there, but his cocksure grin only grew behind the apple. He clearly knew that I was completely flustered by his presence. Unfortunately, my presence didn’t seem to rattle him in the least.

  “Come on, Jessica, you’re a damn woman executive in a mostly male world,” I muttered quietly to myself. “Toughen up.” I lifted my shoulders and even added a little tilt to my chin. I marched confidently past him but stumbled the second he spoke.

  “I like this casual look even better than that prim and proper business suit you were wearing when you first arrived.”

  I stopped and faced him. “You didn’t see me arrive.”

  He pointed straight up to the roof and smiled. “Best vantage point on the property.”

  He tossed the apple core into the shrubs and walked toward me. My instinct told me to back up, but I ignored my gut feeling and stood my ground, chin still lifted but confidence definitely taking a hit. Especially as he closed the gap between us.

  “Although I confess—” His voice had dropped lower, and he spoke with just enough grit in his tone to cause my knees to weaken. He looked down at the hiking boots and then dragged his dark blue gaze up
the length of me, stopping decisively on my lips. “—those bossy high heels you were wearing have been giving me some damn dirty daydreams.” Unexpectedly, he reached up to my face. “And that blush is pretty unforgettable too.”

  My haughty chin lift collapsed, and the school girl nerves returned. I couldn’t think of one other man in my life who could knock me off balance so quickly. I was still trying to decide if it bothered me or if I liked the idea that he was so darn skilled at it. I needed to shore up my defenses, or I’d end up leaving here without my heart.

  I drew in a determined breath. “I’m glad my shoes provided you with some delight. I can tell you that at the end of a long work day, they are nothing but torture. I kick them off the second I walk into my townhouse.”

  He stepped back, and I felt it keenly, not having him just a few inches away. “Why do you wear them?”

  I was about to spurt out an answer, only no viable explanation came.

  “Guess the loud, confident clack of heels on floors lets some of the men you work with know you mean business. Me? I’d take you seriously even in sandals with that haughty chin lift.” He picked up his tool belt. It dangled from his fingers, a gesture that shouldn’t have been the least bit sexual, and yet, all kinds of erotic images floated through my head. Once again he’d knocked me off balance.

  “Or maybe you just know how good your legs look when you’re wearing them.”

  “That’s right, throw me a bone with the first ‘you mean business’ comment and then snatch it away by ending it with a tawdry comment about my legs. I’m the vice president of a large commercial real estate brokerage. I hardly need to have my choice of shoes analyzed by a man who pounds in roof shingles for a living.” I spun around to leave.

  I heard the tool belt drop behind me.

  He took a firm grip of my arm and turned me toward him. His gaze was dark and cool, and it sent a spark of thrill through me. “Vice president, huh? Impressive.” His mouth came right next to mine. My lips parted long before I realized that I wanted the damn kiss. “Nothing sexier than a strong, confident woman . . . even if she’s wearing hiking boots instead of heels. In fact, I really don’t give a damn what she’s got on her feet as long as her legs fit just right, wrapped around me when I’m fucking her.”

  I flinched from his coarse words at first. Then my body betrayed me. The heat of the previous night came back to me in waves, and moisture pooled in my panties. I swallowed hard as he once again stared down at my lips as if he was going to devour me.

  I held my breath as he reached up, and, with a gentleness that was in complete contradiction to the way he was looking at me, he stroked the side of my face. It was a split second of tenderness that made my heart melt. I felt utter disappointment when he dropped his hand.

  But it seemed he wasn’t finished toying with me yet. My heart raced again as he leaned his mouth even closer. His long, dark lashes shaded his heavy gaze as he concentrated again on my lips. “What you need, V.P., is someone who makes you lose that uptight attitude. Remember that beautiful naked woman who came with my tongue tucked deep in her pussy last night? Don’t forget to keep her satisfied and happy during your climb to the top.”

  My breath was coming in short spurts. The landscape was swirling around me in a green haze. I swayed a bit, almost dizzy with the idea of having Grayson take me right there against the weathered wood siding of the Silk Stocking Inn. As skilled as he may have been with a hammer, he was masterful at the art of teasing.

  I swallowed, took a steadying breath and stared back at him, determined to keep up my guard, even though my body was betraying me at every turn. “How do you know what I need? You don’t know anything about me.”

  “No? I know you purr like a damn kitten when my tongue is pressed against your pussy. Wonder how many of your friends and coworkers know that.” He straightened, and I nearly fell forward in my attempt to follow his mouth. I’d lost the kiss that I wanted so badly. My usual determination to be in charge had just splintered the hot and tense moment. He was good. Ruthless but good. I’d never had an urge to both kiss a man and slap his face until now.

  From the smug expression on his face, Grayson knew he’d gotten to me. “I’ll let you get to that walk.” He turned back to his ladder and picked up his tool belt.

  I stood, slightly shaken and more than a little heated by the brief encounter. But the heat had nothing to do with anger. It should have, of course. I should have been ready to stomp off in irritation. Instead, the heat had to do with the warmth that was curling around my body as I thought about him taking full possession of me again. I wanted it. I wanted him. He’d started a craving in me, and there was only one thing that could satisfy it.

  I should have been on my way. But I stood like a stunned statue and watched as Grayson buckled his belt low around his narrow hips. He was a perfect V, starting with strong broad shoulders that tapered down to a perfect ass. Long, thick legs carried him up the ladder. My mind swept back to the night before and the incredible size of his erection. It had filled me to capacity and had set every inch of my pussy on fire. His strong, rough hands knew just how to touch me, and just how much attention I needed to come. He was a handyman extraordinaire, I thought with a smile.

  Maybe I would stay on just one more night.

  12

  A bit lightheaded and more than a little frustrated, I turned away from the very hot man on the roof and headed off on my walk. I hiked down the path that led along the bushes with tiny tubular flowers that I quickly deduced were the honeysuckles Coco had mentioned.

  Beads of perspiration rolled between my cleavage as I meandered along the gravelly path. Just as my hostess had promised, butterflies were dancing along the tops of feathery flowers and several hummingbirds were taking turns sipping sweetness from red flowers. I’d always loved nature and being outdoors, but I’d never taken the time to learn much about it, like flower and butterfly names. That had always been my sister, Leti’s, hobby.

  I, on the other hand, had always been the down to business girl, the don’t waste time knowing anything that won’t push you higher up the corporate ladder type. Now I’d made it to the second rung from the top, but, somehow, that achievement hadn’t been nearly as fulfilling as I’d hoped. Instead, it’d made me realize that there was more to life than just success in business.

  A hammer sounded back at the house. I glanced back and saw the shabby, slate gray shingle roof of the Silk Stocking Inn loom in the distance. It was the only building or sign of civilization in my sight radius. Willowy trees and stretches of wildflowers made it seem as if I’d landed in the middle of my computer screensaver, the meadow that I’d downloaded for when the day got stressful and I needed to drift off for a few minutes. In fact, it was remarkably similar to my computer wallpaper. Almost uncannily so, just like the mix of fragrance that I’d experienced in the kitchen when Grayson had walked inside. None of this could actually be happening and yet it was. I was standing in the middle of my screensaver meadow still reeling from the tenderness in my pussy wrought by the man who I’d dreamt up in my description. It was him. Grayson was him—my tall, dark and a pleasure in bed.

  If nothing else, the weekend might prove to be the most fascinating and mystifying of my life.

  I headed across the meadow and came to a rusted iron gazebo, like one you’d see in the finely manicured garden of a century old estate. It was a surprising feature in the middle of an otherwise wild and untamed landscape.

  Once I reached the ramshackle structure, I found that it had been fashioned with plush cushioned benches and a small table. I wished, suddenly, for a good book and glass of wine. I glanced back toward the path. I was far from the house and could no longer hear the hammer. The outline of the inn was hidden by tall trees.

  A whispery breeze pushed through the curled iron scrolls of the gazebo and cooled my warm cheeks. I sat on one of the upholstered benches. The fabric looked bright and new, especially in contrast to the dilapidated state of the gazebo.
I propped a few pillows against the side rail of the bench, pulled off my boots and brought my legs up on the seat. I gazed through the opening on the gazebo as if I was sitting on a window seat staring out at a field of flowers.

  Delicate pink and yellow flower heads danced with the breeze, and the tall grasses carried the scent of nature through the gazebo. Something about the earthy fragrance brought my thoughts back to Grayson. He was nothing like the men I’d been dating, men I considered a better match, men who worked in the business world and drove impressive cars and lived in overpriced apartments. Men who had clean fingernails and rarely broke out in a sweat. Men who tended to be just as boring in bed as in a board meeting. Grayson was none of that. And I couldn’t get him out of my mind. The long stroll had done nothing to cool the burning ache between my legs.

  It was a crazy idea, but then the last twenty-four hours had been nothing but crazy. I looked around. Other than a few birds perched on the edge of the gazebo railing, apparently waiting to see if I had a pocket full of bread crumbs, I was alone.

  This was all Grayson’s fault, I reminded myself as I unzipped the fly on my shorts. I leaned back and closed my eyes. I slid my hand down between my legs and pressed my fingers against my clit. The heady wildflower fragrance and warm breeze only intensified my need to reach orgasm. Grayson’s handsome face, dark blue eyes and tilted smile coasted through my mind. I moved against the pressure of my hand. I was still tender from the night with Grayson. That rawness only served to bring me closer to the edge.

  A sound in the gazebo made me freeze. My eyes shot open. Grayson gazed down at me with a nearly predatory hunger. I struggled to yank my hand free, but he reached down and held my arm in place.