“I’m sure it doesn’t hurt that she likes bikinis.”
Croft laughed. “No, that doesn’t hurt at all.”
“So, what did you want to talk to me about?” he asked.
Greyson poured Chris some bourbon and leaned against the desk in front of him. “I need to tell you something, and I don’t want you to get mad or take it the wrong way.”
He lifted a brow. “Well, giving me this pricy drink is a good way to start.”
“Are we friends?”
“What? Why would you ask that?”
“I need the truth. Are you really my friend? If I needed to talk, would you be there? If Emma needed someone to keep her safe, would you stand up for her and protect her for me if I couldn’t do it?”
He stared at him. “Yes, I would. I’d break the law for you and Emma, as I’ve proved a couple times since we met. I like my life, but I care about you both. What has you stirred up?”
“This.”
He handed the man a folder. Inside, there was a brochure.
Chris balanced it on his knee as he held his drink. “What’s this?” he asked, pulling out the folded paper.
“That’s your new place.”
“What?” His drink nearly sloshed onto his pant leg.
“I think you heard me.”
“I don’t understand. I already have a place.”
Greyson shook his head. “Emma is worried sick about you. She doesn’t want you living in the hood. There were shoes hanging from the electricity lines, and we both know that’s a sign of a drug stop. She wants you where you deserve to be. You work hard, you’ve served this city for years, and she can’t let it go.”
“So she’s buying me a condo?”
“Yes.”
“This is beyond crazy. Most people give normal gifts. How about tickets to a game and a beer? Or a sweater?”
“I can arrange for those too, if you’d like.”
He stood, handing it back. “No, I don’t like. I don’t want you to do this. I’m not your friend because you’re now loaded--just like you’re still my friend because I’m not. Unless, you’re embarrassed by me, and this is your way of telling me.”
Greyson drank his bourbon.
This was EXACTLY what he expected.
“I actually like you more because you’re not some stuck-up, rich asshole. You’re a good man, Chris. You came back from being the commissioner because you missed doing your job. Emma is really worried about you, and if we refer back to the first law of marriage, my wife wants you someplace safe, and I want her to be happy.”
He stared at the pictures. “This is crazy. I’m a cop. This is some place a doctor would live.”
Well, he nailed that one.
“It is. Steele has a condo there. There’s private parking, there’s a pool, and you won’t get knifed going to your truck in the morning before work. The last one is the most important one. Emma doesn’t have a family.”
“Jesus, Greyson.”
“Listen, between you and I, here’s the deal. Her brother’s dead, and I think you remind her of him. She has attached herself to you, and that’s important. You’re filling a very important role in her life.”
Greyson went over to a book case and pulled down a picture. When he turned, Chris was right there. “This is all she has left of him. He was a tough, badass vice cop, and he did whatever it took to keep her safe. She feels that way about you. I can tell.”
He stared at the photo.
He’d seen the crime scenes after the man was murdered. “Greyson.”
“Grey. Use it, because like it, or not, we’re now a family. Please accept this as a token of Emma’s love, and of our friendship.”
He handed him the folder again. “It’s not because I’m embarrassed by you. I’ll come down to the hood and sit in the back of your truck drinking beers if that’s what you want. I was a soldier, and I don’t mind the demilitarized zone you live in. I’ve done shitty things to survive, so I don’t judge. I’m just leveling the playing field, using money that was likely earned with less than honest means. Let me balance the rights and wrongs of it all by helping the good people out.”
He sighed. “Is it your goal to give away all your money?”
Croft laughed. “We have billions. It’s going to take a long time to do it, but yes.”
Chris stared down at the brochure.
“Let me give our friend a gift.”
He closed the folder. “The only reason I’m going to do this is because I love your wife.”
Croft lifted a brow.
Chris laughed. “I didn't mean it like that. Although, there is a good chance that if you and she ever divorce, that I’m going to marry her just for her cooking. God, I love her food.”
Greyson laughed, clinking his drink off his friend’s. “And that’s why I trust you, Chris. Not many men would tell me they love her, but in actuality, they’re coveting her chicken parmigiana and not her ass.”
“She hand pounds that chicken with love. You can taste it in every bite.”
Croft grinned wickedly. “I know. It’s one of my favorites. You should taste her beef Wellington. You’d weep.”
Chris couldn’t believe this.
“You can finish your drink in here or head to the family room. I have a gift for my wife,” he stated, grabbing the box by the door. “I want to see her before we head out and into this nonsense.”
“You’re something, Greyson Croft. A freaking condo? Who the hell thinks to do that?”
He smiled.
Greyson had the answer--his wife. She had the biggest heart in the world, and he loved her.
More than his own life.
Chapter Sixteen
Upstairs in the master suite, Emma was getting ready. When her mother-in-law came knocking, she had Tessa tell her that she was taking a shower.
Now wasn’t the time to have another brawl. Emma was running the details of the job through her mind, and she was trying to focus on having a good time. The last thing she needed was someone raining on her parade, or adding more stress to her evening.
While Emma stared in the mirror, she checked out her dress for the event. Normally, she’d go with something sexy from a time long ago, but since falling into Randall Mason’s money, she’d had to up her game. While she dressed to make herself happy, the truth be told, Emma was more focused on her husband and his reaction.
She loved when he got that ‘deer in headlights’ look in his eyes. It made her night, and she couldn’t wait until he saw this dress. It had cost a ridiculous amount of money, and she knew she should feel bad about spending it. After all, this dress cost more than her salary for the year.
And the shoes?
Holy hell! They were pricy but as sexy as shoes could get. When Emma saw them in that outrageously priced designer’s shop, she fell in love.
How could she not?
Greyson had a love affair with incredibly erotic shoes, and she liked making him all hot and bothered. When she put the cop away, the wife was out to play.
Inspecting her gown, the deep jewel tone green brought out her eyes. It stood out even more against her pale skin. The red hair only made the green pop. Emma looked like some emerald encrusted queen.
Now, she only had to hope the dress stayed up. As she checked out her ass in the mirror, Tessa grinned.
“That’s a great dress.”
“It’s an Herb Vasquez.”
Tessa stared at her. “Yowza. You could have bought a car.”
The irony was that she could have, if they didn't already have a fleet of them.
“I really wanted to look good for Greyson tonight,” Emma stated. “I feel like I need to up my game.”
Tessa sat on the end of their bed. “Media pressure, huh?”
She nodded. “He was the center of attention before, but now every floosy this side of Vegas would like to lure him away. I can’t let myself go. It’s not an option.”
Tessa at one time envied their newfound
wealth, but now she saw the ugly side of it. This insecurity had to be hell on Emma. She was a beautiful woman and was worried about losing Greyson?
Yeah, it would never happen.
“Em, he’ll never leave you. When Greyson watches you, he’s madly in love. You can see it in his face.”
She turned to face Tessa. “I know it’s silly, but I want him to be proud of me. I don’t want him to look at me and see a detective, like everyone else does. I want him to see me, and swallow his tongue. Is that too much to ask?”
Tessa laughed. “Well, with that dress, he just might. Is it painted on?”
Emma crossed to her and was brutally honest. “Let’s pray I don’t have to pee tonight. If I do, I’m screwed. I’m going to need help. Which one of my gay dates is going to sign up for that job?”
Tessa snorted. “Um…neither?”
“Exactly. Are you sure you don’t want to come? I have more dresses that I’ve never even worn. Designers send them in hopes I’ll show up on camera in them. You could join us. We’re the same size.”
Tessa was tempted. “You know, if I wasn’t getting married tomorrow, I’d be there. Tonight, I want a bubble bath, to relax, and maybe call Paris and talk dirty. He gets riled up.”
Emma laughed. “That’s the kind of night I want. I’m jealous.”
Tessa was going to say more, but there was a knock on the door. She crossed to see who it was in case Reggie came back.
“Emma, can we talk?” Greyson asked.
“It’s the hubby. Are you available?”
Oh, hell yes she was.
While she wasn’t quite ready to go, she wouldn’t mind the early unveiling. Stepping into her shoes, she nodded.
Tessa let him in and then snuck out so the lovebirds could have some private time.
When Greyson entered, he stopped at the door. He couldn’t believe how beautiful she looked. No, he believed it. His wife was radiant.
“Emma, I love that color on you, and that dress is unbelievable.”
She turned in a circle. “I picked it out for you. In this dress, you can chase me, and I can’t really run that fast. Think of it as an early Christmas gift.”
He laughed. “Nothing says Merry Christmas like a helpless woman. I love when you wear things like that.” Crossing toward her, he pulled his wife into his arms. “You look sexy.”
Then his mouth sought hers.
Emma fell into the sensation of his hands holding her to his body, the clean crisp scent of his cologne, and the feel of his mouth destroying hers.
This was perfection.
Tessa was right. Her husband was devoted to her.
When he pulled away, she stared into his gorgeous gray eyes. “That was pretty amazing. Want to skip this party and you can help me out of this dress?”
Oh, that was tempting.
“If I say yes, can we send everyone else there and have the place to ourselves?” he teased. “I want to take our new grand piano for a spin, and I don’t mean you playing it.”
“Absolutely.” Her husband looked amazing in his tux. It was new and very pricy. She ran her fingers over his lapels before fixing his tie. “Speaking of sexy, someone has upped his game. You look incredible, Grey. I want to climb into your lap and whisper very naughty things in your ear.”
Greyson could feel his entire body reacting to her words and wifely touch. It heated his blood, making him want to pounce. The way the emerald green dress wrapped around her body, leaving nothing to the imagination, he was beginning to regret that they had plans.
“I’m going to rip this dress off you later,” he promised. “There will be nothing left of it when I’m done.”
“Uh, no, you can’t!”
He stared at her. “Why not?”
“Because if you saw the price tag on this number, you’d be sick to your stomach. I know I was. That’s how I lost the three pounds to get into it.”
He laughed. “Well, then I’ll have to watch my sexy little kitten strip for me.”
There were claws of need in her belly. “I will and so much more. Tonight I’ll play prisoner in our little secret room.”
Greyson grinned.
There was a God.
“I have something for you.” Heading toward the door, he grabbed something from the table in the hall. “When I saw this, I thought about you.”
Emma took the jeweler’s box from his hand. It was larger than normal, and she wasn’t quite sure what could be inside. Greyson liked to surprise her at every given chance.
“Wear this for me tonight, Emma?” he asked, hoping she’d get the meaning and not be offended.
When Emma popped the lid up, inside she found something unique and different. There was a multi-strand necklace that looked to wrap around one’s neck. Each small chain fell into place to look like some sexy collar. At the back, the clasp resembled a lock. Where the strands met, they cascaded down in a long strand of woven chain.
It looked like some sexy bondage collar--redone--but still giving the impression that the wearer was owned.
The heat clawing at her belly blossomed into something more. The idea that her sexy husband wanted her to wear something so innately sexual, showing that she was hands off, turned her right on.
He watched her flesh flush pink.
That had to be a good sign, right?
When she handed it back, he stared at her. “I crossed a line, didn't I?” he asked.
Emma walked away to stand in front of their mirror. She pulled her hair up into a twist and pinned it in place. “No, it’s perfect. Can you put it on me?”
His gut tightened, and Greyson swore the room got hotter. “Emma, are you sure?”
This was a flagrant statement of their relationship, and no one would mistake it for a simple necklace. The platinum lock at the back gave it away.
“I’ve never been surer in my life. You haven’t crossed the line yet, but tonight we’ll work on that.”
He crossed to his wife, pulling the delicate necklace from the box. As he rested it around her pale throat, he really wanted to skip the party.
Here’s where all the action would be. This necklace made him want to ravage her like he’d never done before. Croft wanted to claim what was his.
Emma watched him place it around her throat. It fit snuggly, and she’d be reminded the whole night it was there when the woven, platinum chain bounced across her back as she walked.
It turned her on when he locked it, and then pulled her back into his body. Greyson was taut, hard, and incredibly turned on.
And so was she.
“Emma,” he whispered, as he ran his mouth across her shoulders. His body was going haywire, and he didn't think he could keep his hands off her--even in public.
She could feel him shaking, and Emma knew he was wildly turned on. When she rubbed against him, he moaned and closed his eyes.
“Please. I can’t control myself more than I am,” he admitted. “I want to take you right now, but I know I can’t.”
She ran her hands from his thighs to his hips, and every part of him was rock hard. As she watched herself in the mirror, she may be wearing his symbol of domination, but she had all the control.
Turning, she ran her hands across his chest.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered. “Tonight I’m going to make love to you in nothing more than that necklace.”
She couldn’t wait.
But until then, she had a plan.
Her fingers wandered lower, and Emma flicked open his dress pants.
His eyes went wide.
Even wider when she slowly lowered herself to her knees.
Greyson swallowed as her fingers pulled him out of his boxers. “Emma, honey.”
She ignored his pleas. “This will give you something to think about for later,” Emma admitted.
With that, she took him into her mouth.
He shook as her red lips engulfed him. As he slowly disappeared into her mouth, Greyson watched them in the mirror
.
He was focused on the chain that hung down her back. It called to him on some primitive level. It was like his fingers had a mind of their own.
Greyson reached for it.
The second he gave it a tug, they both moaned. He had to close his eyes. If he didn't, he’d never last. As his wife knelt before him, worshiping his body, Greyson never felt more powerful.
His wife was on her knees, driving his erection deeply between her lips. He never wanted this to end. Emma was no stranger to giving him a blow job out of the blue, but this was more powerful. It was the visual.
She was submitting.
He was mastering.
There was no way he could ever forget this moment. No man in his right mind would.
When she stared up at him, his heart skipped. Instead of speaking, he placed his one free hand on the back of her head to drive himself further down her throat.
He was close, and he wanted this moment to count. He was one hell of a lucky man.
“Emma, honey, I’m almost there,” he whispered hoarsely.
She worked harder.
The only sound in the room was Greyson’s heavy breathing, and the wet slip and slide of his dick into her mouth. He couldn’t look away, even as he knew the explosion was coming.
When she ran her fingers down his thighs, as her head bobbed against his erection, Greyson lost it.
As he exploded, he pulled Emma’s head closer so he could pour down her throat in a wave of heat and pleasure. It took a few seconds for him to focus.
Slowly, he blinked, trying to clear the fog of orgasm. His wife was still on her knees, licking her ruby red lips as she grinned wickedly.
There was no doubt who ruled this relationship, and it wasn’t him. His wife had all the power.
“Kitten, I love you.”
She laughed as he stared down at her. “I love you too.”
“I could have waited until later,” he offered. “I had some control.” That was a total lie. If he didn't have her, or get off, it was going to be a torturous night where he found some small closet and took her like a madman.
“I wanted to thank you for the necklace. It’s perfect.”
He laughed. “Yes, yes it is.”
Hell Is Burning Page 42
