CHAPTER THIRTY

Mia

Right when I would join Grayson at the living room window, there’s a knock on the front door behind me. Obviously, it’s one of the men that just left, most likely Eric and most likely he left something behind. Eager to be alone with Grayson, I turn back to the door and hit the camera button beside it to find Blake Walker waiting on the other side, and my heart races with the idea that he might have received some sort of news about the plot against Grayson.

I quickly open the door and he hands me a card. “In case you need me. That has my cellphone on it.”

“Right.” I don’t feel relief. I feel disappointment. I want news. I want answers. “Thank you,” I add.

He must read my reaction. “We’ll make this go away,” he promises. “When you set someone up for a crime, as Ri is doing to Grayson, you commit a crime yourself. Ri will pay for his jealousy and competitiveness going too far.” He speaks with a confidence that I welcome. We need someone strong behind us right now and I do believe Blake Walker and his team are good additions to our efforts to shut down Ri. I hope Grayson feels the same and I urgently want to find out.

“Thank you,” I repeat but this time there’s force behind the words.

His eyes narrow on mine as if he’s looking for the same confidence in me that he’s showing in himself. “I’ll update you before bed.” With that, he turns away.

I quickly shut the door and lock up again, stuffing his card into my pocket before I rush toward the living room. The minute I pass through the archway, my gaze seeks out Grayson but he’s no longer by the window. The patio door is open, obviously his way of inviting me to join him. I close the space between me and that door, exiting the apartment, only to have Grayson grab me from the left. In a blink, I’m against the glass door and he’s pressed close.

“You will not put yourself in the middle of this,” he orders, his voice rough, his handsome face all hard lines and shadows, his fingers tangling in my hair and not gently. “I agreed to you going back for one reason: It buys me time to destroy him and that’s for me to do, not you. You go. You convince him you’re still there to stay and that’s all.”

“Yes, but—”

“No buts, Mia, That’s all you do. The end. Do not argue.”

“Grayson,” I plead, but his mouth comes down on mine and his tongue drives away my objections, each stroke a demand that I cannot turn down.

“Nothing else,” he says when his lips part from mine. “Do you understand me?”

Somehow after that kiss and with his perfect body pressed close, I manage a coherent reply. “Everyone in that room believes you need me.”

“And they were right. I do need you. I’ve been quite clear on that point, which is why I’m protecting you. Anyone who will go as far as Ri is going over jealousy could be capable of more. You could get hurt and I’m not letting that happen.”

“So could you. We protect each other.”

“Mia—”

“Grayson—”

“You will not fight me on this,” he says. “You will not win, so don’t even try.”

His voice is pure steel, the heavy-handedness of his mood is out of character for him, and to such an extreme that he turns me to face the glass, forcing me to catch myself on my hands. His legs cage mine, his hands shackling my hips, his lips at my ear. “You will not win.” His hand slides upward and he cups my breast. “You will do as I say.”

I cup his hand where it’s covering my breast, and he squeezes while I manage to process the fact that he’s not himself. He’s lost his father. He’s lost me. He can’t lose me again. That’s where this is coming from and I know that I can fight with him later if need be, debate with him, and we can make decisions together, but what he needs right now is agreement. “I’m not going to do anything we don’t agree on, Grayson. I won’t.”

“You’re right.” He pulls my shirt over my head. “You won’t.” And before I even know it’s happened, my bra is unhooked too. He drags me to him, cradling my body to his harder one to rid me of my bra completely, his hands cupping my breast, fingers closing down on my nipple. “And I won’t change my mind.”

I moan with the sensations rocking my body, spikes of pleasure blossoming from my nipples straight to my sex. “I’m going to try, though,” I pant out. “You know that.”

He leans me forward again, pressing my hands to the wall by my head. “Don’t try, Mia. It takes away time we can just be here, home, together.” He slides to my side, his leg still at the back of my knees, caging me, the lean of my body forcing my hands to stay put.

“I was never your submissive, Grayson,” I remind him. “I’m not starting now.”

“No?” he demands, unsnapping my jeans, and dragging the zipper down. “Are you sure about that? I seem to remember plenty of submissive moments.” He moves behind me and drags my pants down.

“Sex doesn’t count,” I pant out, trying to look over my shoulder, only to have him palm my backside and then give it a hard smack.

“Grayson!” I yelp. “We don’t do this like that.”

“Now we do,” he promises, shoving my pants down further and then lifting me and I don’t know how he manages it, but in about thirty seconds, I’m also naked from the waist down. He smacks my backside again, and heat rushes through me.

“Grayson,” I bite out this time. “I thought you didn’t spank me out of anger?”

“Tonight, I do.” He leans in close, near my ear again. “Did it hurt?”

“No,” I whisper. “Not hurt. You know you didn’t hurt me.”

“Then what’s the problem?” He spanks me again and I arch into the touch.

“The problem,” I hiss, “is you’re mad and I’m aroused right now and I shouldn’t be.”

“No,” he says, easing back to my side, and squeezing my cheek, his free hand on my belly, “you shouldn’t be. That defeats the purpose of a spanking when I’m this mad at you.” His hand slides between my legs, fingers sliding along the wet seam of my sex. “You will not come.”

“I’m pretty sure that I am, in fact, going to come if your fingers stay where they’re at right now and you spank me again.”

He cups my sex and spanks me again. I gasp, arching into the palm now back to squeezing my ass, and then into the one cupping my sex. “Grayson,” I whisper, though I have no idea what I’m asking for. “Can you please—”

His fingers slide inside me, his lips at my ear. “Please what, baby?” The words are soft, seductive, but that edge, his anger, is not gone. It’s sharp. It’s moody and present. It’s a wedge between us and I can’t take it.

“I’m just trying to protect you,” I whisper. “The way I should have before.”

His fingers slide out of me and he turns me to face him, those green, tormented eyes fixed on me. “Protect me by trusting me this time. Trust me that he’s dangerous. Trust me to protect you and us.”

“I do,” I whisper. “I just—”

“Don’t finish that sentence, baby. Not right now.” He cups my face. “Just be here.”

My hands go to his hands. “I am. I’ve never been anywhere but here.”

His mouth crashes down on mine and the taste of him explodes on my tongue: torment, fear, pain, loss, hunger, need. He needs so much and he has hurt so much and I can’t do anything to add to those feelings. I just don’t know how to do that but I’ll decide with him. That’s the only way this works. He scoops me up and starts walking. I’m naked in his arms while he is fully dressed and I have this sense of being willingly vulnerable with this man. I would do anything with him and anything for him.