Gray’s voice is muffled as he curses behind me. My stomach roils as I take in the scene before me. Madness. Absolute chaos. I’m so shocked because the other parts of the house are immaculate and pristine. But this…this is sick.
“Violet,” Gray hisses as he grabs my elbow.
I jerk my arm from his grip and stare at the dump. Dump is a nice word. It’s an absolute shithole. I’d barely gotten through an episode of Hoarders once a few years back. After they found a dead cat under some debris in an old woman’s house, I shut it off and scrubbed my bathtub until I could see my reflection.
This is worse.
The stink is sickening. Rot. Mildew. Sour…something. Yuck. The potato skins I ate moments earlier, before I went exploring, threaten to make a reappearance. From floor to damn near the ceiling, this room is piled high with junk. Not just junk but trash. Trash! Somewhere in the middle of the chaos is a bed. Shit has been piled up on the bed as well. Only a small portion remains uncovered. Where that person sleeps. Whose room is this?
“Gwen,” Gray mutters as if to answer my unspoken question.
He told me she was sick, but not like this. This is something else. I see something run across her bed and I let out a scream. A strong hand covers my mouth from behind. I’m dragged out of the room and the door slams shut. The stink lingers in my nostrils, and I feel like I’ll throw up at any second. I fall limp in Gray’s grip as he retreats quickly down the hallway. I expect him to drag me back to the living room but instead, he pulls me into what must be his bedroom, hence the familiar masculine scent. I inhale it in hopes of ridding my nose of the disgusting stench from Gwen’s room.
My body trembles and he hugs me tight against him. With my back pressed against his chest and his strong arm around my middle, awareness prickles through me. Slowly, he peels away his hand from my mouth.
“I’m sorry.”
Guilt rushes through me. “I-I overreacted.”
He nuzzles his nose against my hair and groans. “You didn’t. It’s…it’s not something that people besides her and I see. I didn’t prepare you. It’s disgusting. I’m sorry you had to see it.”
“Things were living there,” I hiss, my voice quivering on the line between hysteria and calm. I’m pretty sure it was a big mouse but I can’t be certain.
“I know,” he growls. “Trust me. I pay a fucking exterminator to come out every week to try and deal with it.”
“You pull it all out and throw it away. That’s how you deal with it,” I exclaim.
He releases me, and when I turn to look at him, his palms scrub over his handsome face in frustration. “If it were that easy, the shit would have been hauled away a long time ago. This is…this is something she’s learned. It’s been ingrained in her since birth.”
I frown at him when he stalks over to a chest in the room. He sits on it and then regards me with a despondent look.
“Our mother is worse,” he murmurs, shame coating his features.
Big, powerful, neat-as-hell Grayson Maxwell is surrounded by a family of hoarders.
“Your father?” I ask, my voice soft.
He shakes his head. “He’s the cause, honestly. Mom always collected things in our basement. But when Gwen got sick, she started trying to record and save all her moments. Both of them became obsessed with collecting things. It drove my dad crazy. He ended up spending more and more time at his apartment in the city near his office. Eventually, he never came home.”
My stomach roils when I imagine his mother’s house. How could it be worse than that?
“So, they’re divorced?”
He sighs. “No. He paid off the house and always saw to it that she had enough money.” He pauses and his eyes shift away, but I don’t miss the storm brewing in them. “She won’t ever leave the house, though. I’ve taken over paying utilities and sending groceries to the house. Dad won’t come see her. They’re married, but he hasn’t seen her probably in twenty years.”
I gape at him. I suppose everyone has skeletons in their closets. His are apparently full of hoarded skeletons.
“She needs help,” I tell him softly. “That can’t be safe.”
He stands and prowls over to me, anger written all over his face. I flinch when he raises his hand. The action makes his hard features crumple. Vaughn has ruined me forever.
“She used to see a therapist each week but eventually got angry with Dr. Ward and quit going. We’ve tried everything. At first, it was just her room. Then, she took over two more rooms. I refuse to let her take over anymore. Sometimes, she brings her things to Mom’s. They find room in that shithole somehow.”
I swallow and close my eyes when he touches my cheek. His other hand grips my hip and he drags me closer. I love that his masculine scent is quickly chasing away the horrible one from Gwen’s room. He rests his forehead against mine, and it grounds me. Something about this guy affects me.
His mouth is so close to mine, and if I were to tilt my head up, I’d be able to kiss him. I want to kiss him. But a kiss will lead to more. I’m certainly not ready for more with him.
“I should go,” I murmur, trying to ignore the way his thumb rubs my hip.
“I wish you didn’t have to.”
I place my hands on his firm chest that I’d love to explore more and push him away. “Can you take me please?” I bite on my lip and frown. “And please don’t tell her I…saw.”
He shakes his head. “I won’t. It would send her into a tailspin that I can’t afford to mentally deal with. I have too much else on my mind.”
It reminds me that he’s a successful businessman who spends his day acquiring hotels and businesses left and right. But a small part of me hopes that I’m also on his mind.
“Let’s go then,” I breathe out.
His gaze falls to my lips and he clenches his jaw before nodding his agreement.
I wake up in a cold sweat.
And naked.
Why do I keep undressing in my sleep? Am I sleepwalking again?
Dread consumes me. It’s been years since I’ve had the night sweats where I would find myself in various places around the apartment. What’s triggered this? Is it Gray?
I squeeze my eyes shut and will myself to sleep. But then I hear it. A ping. I jolt upright in bed and still my breath. Then a creak.
Holy shit.
The hair sticks up on the back of my neck. Someone is in my house. I slide out of bed and snag my gun from under the mattress. I keep it loaded and ready to fire. Once I have it in my grip, I call out in a shaky voice.
“Who’s there?”
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The footsteps are heavy and a scream gets lodged in my throat. He’s coming for me. It’s Vaughn. He’s here and he’s going to drag me back home with him by my hair.
No!
I stumble backward until my bare ass hits the wall with the gun wobbling out in front of me. It’s dark aside from the moonlight pouring in from the open curtain.
The front door swings open and crashes against the wall before slamming again. My heart jackknifes in my chest. I bolt through the apartment and then twist all the locks into place. As soon as the last one engages, I start to cry.
He was here.
It had to have been him.
I’m panicking. I don’t know what to do. I can’t call the cops because he’ll kill me and my mother. That was something he always told me he would do. At times, I didn’t care about me, but it wasn’t fair for my mother.
My hand trembles, but I keep hold of my gun while I hunt for my phone. I dial Gray and pray he’ll wake at this ungodly hour. He answers on the fourth ring, his voice thick with sleep.
“Yeah?”
“G-Gray, h-he was h-here,” I sob as I start frantically turning on every light in the apartment.
He growls. “Who?”
“V-Vaughn. It had to have b-been him. I heard him s-slam the door shut when h-he left.” My teeth begin to chatter as another jolt of fear slices through me.
“Lock yourself in the bathroom and don’t come out until I call to tell you I’m there,” he instructs as he shuffles around. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
We hang up, and I rush to the bathroom. I yank my robe off the hook and sling it on before locking the door. Twenty minutes feels like twenty years. But in sixteen minutes, a loud bang on the door causes me to scream.
Gray: I’m here.
I toss the phone down but I’m still too afraid to relinquish my gun. I unlock the bathroom door and run to the front one. Once I peek through the hole and make sure it’s him, I disengage all three locks. When I barely have the last one unlatched, Gray’s pushing in with a frantic look on his face.
“Violet,” he hisses as I all but jump into his arms. He’s warm and safe and here to protect me. That’s what friends do. “It’s okay, baby,” he coos. “I’m here now.” His voice cloaks me like a safety blanket. He pulls away briefly to lock up the apartment and to gently pull the gun from my grip. Then, he wraps an arm around me and guides me to the sofa. Together we sit, and I practically crawl into his lap seeking security.
“Tell me everything that happened from start to finish,” he tells me, his voice tense.
I launch into how I woke from a nightmare and heard a sound. I leave off the embarrassing fact that I don’t know how I got naked. I’m certain it wasn’t Vaughn who got me that way. He wouldn’t have been able to undress me and resist touching me. I’d have awoken with his cock deep inside me if it were him that had taken off my clothes. That was all me.
“The nightmares are back and now…” I trail off and shudder.
“And now what?” he questions, his fingers finding my chin to tilt my head, so I can see him. His handsome face is screwed up in concern as he regards me. I get lost in his fierce, icy-blue gaze before my eyes drop to his mouth.
“Vaughn is back.”
“Vaughn who?”
I shudder just thinking about him. My eyes close, but then I see him staring at me with hate in his eyes so I quickly reopen them.
“We can’t go to the cops,” I whisper. “He’ll kill my mother. He’ll kill me.”
His eyes bug out of his head for a moment before a murderous scowl washes over his features. “He won’t touch you, but I want his name.”
When I start trembling again, Gray grabs my hips and guides me farther into his lap. The lines of friendship are blurring because I straddle him over his thighs. His palms cradle my face as he searches for answers.
“Brecks. His last name is Brecks,” I murmur. “He can’t know where I am. Ever.”
A quake ripples through my body as another sob catches in my throat.
“Come here,” he growls and slides a hand to my ass to pull me closer. The silky robe hardly hides the fact that I’m naked. His palm remains on my butt as he rubs me in a comforting way. I bury my face against his neck. God, he smells delicious. My breasts are pressed against his firm chest, and it feels good to be against him like this.
His other hand rests on my bare thigh and he runs circles with it just under the robe. My entire body starts quivering for a different reason. The adrenaline coursing through my body has channeled into something else. Something hot and hungry.
“How do you think he got in?” I question, my breath hot against his flesh.
His cock begins to harden beneath me, sending ripples of need coursing through me. I’m pressed against his very impressive length in his jeans.
“Those locks are cheap and easy to break into,” he tells me huskily. “I’ll call my locksmith we use for the office tomorrow and have your door fitted with something impenetrable.”
I sit up so I can look at him. His blue eyes have darkened with lust. I wonder if mine mirror the look. He lets go of my ass and boldly tugs at the rope holding my robe together. It falls open and a gasp of shock rolls off my tongue.
“Gray,” I murmur in warning.
He arches a brow and it makes him ten times sexier. “What?” he questions, feigning innocence.
A smile tugs at my lips. “Friends don’t try to undress friends.”
He chuckles and it warms me all the way to my core. I find my eyes fixated on his full lips.
“I need to kiss you,” he admits, his voice thick with desire.
I dart my eyes back up to his. “A kiss isn’t what friends do either.”
His fingers slide to my neck and he curls them around the back of my head. “Maybe I don’t want to be friends. Maybe I want to take care of you in so many ways that go beyond friendship.”
When I’m tugged forward, I start to protest with my palms against his chest. But then his other palm cups my breast in a gentle, reverent way that has me whimpering. I end up meeting him in the middle and pressing my lips against his. The kiss is soft and sweet at first. All it takes is one moan from me and he slides his tongue into my mouth, seeking something deeper.
My clit throbs with need and my nipples ache to be touched. As if he has direct access to my thoughts, his thumb rubs across my erect nipple, causing me to shiver.
“I see you, Violet,” he murmurs against my mouth, his teeth nipping at my bottom lip. “I see you.”
His words turn me on. After so many years of existing as a mere shadow—in his shadow—I love that I’m in his spotlight. Shamelessly, I grind myself against his erection, which makes him groan with pleasure.
“Gray,” I moan as I rock against him. “We should stop.”
He laughs and it reverberates down to my core. “Why would we want to do that?”
“Because we’re friends,” I try but then decide I like kissing him better than talking. My mouth devours his.
His palm slides down my side, dangerously low on my stomach, and my breath hitches.
“Friends can still fuck,” he growls.
I let out an embarrassing sound when his thumb grazes against my clit. The pleasure from such a simple touch sears through me like hot fire. He massages my clit in a slow torturous way that has me jolting with each movement. An orgasm decides to take hold of me out of nowhere. And, holy hell, is it delicious. Electric pleasure shudders through me just as he pushes a finger inside my wet center. The sudden intrusion coupled with the high of my orgasm sends another orgasm right on its heels. I throw my head back and cry out in pleasure. When my body stops shaking, he slips his finger back out and leans forward to press a kiss between my breasts. The tickle of his hair reminds me of Vaughn, and I scramble away from him with a scream falling from my lips.
I don’t toss a look his way until I’m safely on the other side of the couch. He still sits with his powerful legs slightly spread apart and his erection blatantly obvious through the denim. His hair is messy—I must have grabbed hold of it at some point—and his chest heaves. The lust in his eyes is enough to almost have me crawling back into his lap.
“I-I can’t,” I mutter, tears threatening.
He reaches over and clutches my bare ankle. “It’s okay.” His gaze darts to my bare chest before he clears his throat and pulls his hand away. “I’ll stay over tonight to make sure he doesn’t come over again. Do you have a pillow and a blanket?”
I swallow and nod as I stand. With quick movements, I tie my robe back up. “Thank you. And I’m sorry.” My eyes drop to his erection, and I frown.
He laughs. “I’m fine, little quitter.” Heat and amusement glitter in his eyes, effectively diffusing the awkward moment. “Get some sleep. We’ll talk more in the morning.”
I locate some bedding and practically throw it at him before shutting myself in my room. As soon as the lights are turned off and I’m back in bed, I slink out of the robe and slip a hand between my thighs. I’m still soaked from the orgasms he gave me. I run the wetness up between the lips of my pussy and let out a hiss of pleasure. I still tingle but all he did was make me crave more.
Silently, I massage myself into one more orgasm.
I hope he didn’t hear his name as it shamelessly moaned its way out of my mouth.
The more time I spend with Gray, the more I like it. Is this his plan? To woo me into staying at the company? I have less than two weeks to get my head back on straight and focus on my career. Not men. Not my past. My future.
T-minus twelve days…