Grayson

AS THE SILENCE stretched around us, I found it harder and harder to keep my gaze from wandering in her direction. I was convinced that dress had been made with the sole purpose of driving me out of my mind. I watched from the corner of my eye as she crossed her legs, the soft fabric riding up and revealing a creamy expanse of olive skin that made my mouth water.

Turning my focus to the passing landscape outside of the window, I breathed deeply, trying to get the semi in my pants to cooperate and go the hell down.

“So….” Lola’s seductive voice echoed through the back seat, doing nothing to help my twitching dick. “How is this supposed to work? We play nice, smile, and act polite for a few hours at a couple events until this blows over?”

A bewildered laugh worked its way up my throat. “Is it really so difficult to be civil with me? You make it sound positively painful.”

Even though it sounded somewhat spiteful, her laughter shot pleasure right through me. Despite my best efforts, I found myself wondering what noises she’d make while I was inside of her.

Not what you want to be thinking about while trying to control an erection.

“Please, Grayson—”

“Gray.”

She paused at my interruption. “What?”

“Gray. My friends all call me Gray. I’d like you to, as well.”

I watched as surprise flashed in her gorgeous amber eyes. She hadn’t been expecting that; I could see it written all over her face. Dealing with me when I was an asshole was so much easier for her, but she was off-kilter when I wasn’t living up to her expectations.

“Gray,” she whispered, more to herself than to me, as if testing how it sounded. Hearing the way my name rolled off her tongue had me biting my cheek to stop from moaning. She cleared her throat and fidgeted in her seat. “Uh, o-okay.”

“You were saying?” I asked with a smile. If I got hard on Lola’s attitude, then seeing her frazzled was almost enough to get me off.

She gave her head a tiny shake. “What?”

“Before I cut you off, I believe you were going to say something about how easy it was to be nice to me.”

The confusion disappeared from her face, replaced by a knowing smile.

“Really? Was that what I was about to do?”

I leaned in, closing some of the distance between us. Just an inch more and I’d breach the line between what was appropriate and what wasn’t between a boss and his employee. But damn if I cared. Lola’s job was secure. Bandwidth never maintained a strict interoffice relationship policy, so it wasn’t like being with her would break any rules.

“W-what are you doing?” She pulled back, but not before I saw her pupils dilate and her chest rise with a stuttered breath. Her lips parted as her tongue peeked out to run across her bottom lip.

I broke through that last inch, delving right into her personal space as I said, “You know, I don’t think you hate me as much as you’d like to claim.”

Her eyes narrowed as the fight poured back into them. “Y-yes I do. And could you move back please? Your cologne is giving me a headache. One spritz is more than sufficient, Gray. There’s no need to bathe in the stuff.”

“Should I take that to mean you don’t like the way I smell, Lola?” I asked quietly, keeping the space between us at a minimum.

Her gaze landed on my mouth and I could’ve sworn I heard her sigh softly. “No. I mean yes! Damn it!” She shook her head again. “Would you please move? I can’t think when you’re so… close.”

I pulled away with a laugh just as the car came to a stop in front of the restaurant.

“Remember,” I started as my driver, Thomas, came around to open my door, “you have to pretend to like me. Shouldn’t be hard considering you’re picturing me naked right now.” I winked and climbed out of the car, smiling at her mumbled “Jackass” as I reached back in to help her out.

As we made our way into the crowded restaurant, I kept my palm firmly in place at the small of her back, resting just inches from the tempting swell of her ass.

A gorgeous smile was plastered across her lips as she whispered through her teeth, “Your hand moves down any lower, I’ll cut it off.”

“Ah, ah, ah.” I returned her grin. “There are people watching. You’re supposed to find me irresistible, remember?”

She looked up at me adoringly. Had it not been for her next words, I might have been fooled. “After tonight, someone should give me a freaking Academy Award.”

I drew her closer to my side, wrapping my arm around her waist. “That’s the spirit.”

I was pretty sure she growled as I gave my name to the hostess.

The walk to our table was made in silence. As I let go of Lola to pull out her chair, the tips of my fingers slid along her back. It was just a whisper of a touch, but I felt her shiver softly before I removed my hand completely. That was all the reassurance I needed.

She could claim to hate me all she wanted — her body said something completely different. She wanted me. The more she fought it, the sweeter the reward would be when I finally got what I wanted.

I made my decision right then and there.

I was going to seduce the hell out of Lola Abbatelli.

Lola

IT WAS BAFFLING the number of women who stopped what they were doing to stare at Grayson with big moon eyes as we made our way to our table. Even the hostess looked like she was seconds away from throwing herself at him so she could climb him like a tree.

Did these women have no pride? For Christ’s sake, some of them appeared to be with their spouses or boyfriends. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I understood the appeal. He was a hot guy… a really hot guy. Even I wasn’t immune to his charm and good looks, but the air was suddenly clogged with excitement and desperation so thick I almost choked on it.

Ridiculous.

I chanced a sideways look in his direction to find he didn’t seem the slightest bit fazed as we moved through the room. His hand stayed firmly on my back the entire way. When we finally reached the table, he trailed his fingertips along my spine in a slow, seductive move that had my traitorous body trembling with pleasure.

“If there’s anything I can get you, anything at all, don’t hesitate to let me know,” the hostess crooned, bending close to Grayson’s chair in order to put her cleavage on full display. I didn’t even bother to suppress my eye roll as he gave her a quick and polite, yet dismissive grin before turning his attention back to me. I watched with a sick sense of enjoyment as her smile fell, her expression crestfallen as she stood and walked back to her post.

“Must be great being you,” I said sarcastically as I began scanning the dinner options.

“What do you mean?”

I lifted my head to look at him when I heard the genuine confusion in his tone. His dark brows were furrowed over those glinting green eyes. I looked around at all the women still gawking before answering, “All the pathetic, swooning women?” I waved a hand in the air.

A deep frown marred his face, somehow increasing the handsomeness of his masculine features. Stupid men and their ability to age well! “What are you talking about?” His gaze darted around the dining area before coming back to me.

I let out a derisive snort. “You must be joking.” There wasn’t a single trace of humor on his face. My laughter dried up and I frowned in return. “Jesus, you really don’t notice, do you?”

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to spell it out for me, Lola.”

I set my menu down and folded my hands together on top of the table. “This room is full of women who would gladly mow me over to be where I am right now. They started salivating the minute we walked in, Gray. Hell, I’m pretty sure the poor hostess ruptured an ovary!”

At that, his head fell back with a deep, rumbling laugh that caused my belly to quiver. Man, that sounded nice. “You have a fun imagination, Lola, I’ll give you that.”

“It’s not my imagination. It’s a fact.” I looked around for proof, finding a woman who still seemed to be under his spell. “There, see?” I pointed and he turned to look. “That’s basically the face every woman in here got when you walked in.”

He turned his attention from the now horribly embarrassed woman and leaned his elbows on the table, talking in a low, intoxicating tone. “I don’t recall seeing that look on your face.”

I scoffed, desperately trying to sound indifferent. “Because I’m immune to you,” I lied. I really freaking hoped God didn’t strike me down with lightning for that one.

“Is that so?” He smiled and lifted one arm to rest his chin on his hand.

“Yes,” I answered in a snooty voice.

“Hmm, then I guess I just imagined the way you shivered when my fingers brushed across your waist, huh?” I snorted and rolled my eyes, all the while thinking, Shit, he felt that? “Or how about when your pupils dilated when I leaned over you in the car? Or the way you struggled to breathe the closer I got?”

Damn it, I was having trouble breathing again! How was it possible that I could hate a man and want him so badly at the same time? I picked up my glass of water and sucked some down, my mouth suddenly as dry as a used-up, sixty-year-old porn star.

How’s that for a visual? You’re welcome.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Another lie. “That wasn’t lust if that’s what you’re thinking. That cologne of yours was suffocating. If anything, I was having an allergic reaction. What you witnessed was probably closer to anaphylaxis than lust.”

He chuckled and it was a direct shot to my lady parts. Luckily, the server took that moment to interrupt before I could do something crazy, like climb across the table and mount him.

I gave the menu another look as Grayson spoke with the server, ordering what was undoubtedly an insanely expensive bottle of wine, when brilliance struck.

“And have you had a chance to look at the menu?” the man asked.

I looked up at him with a shit-eating grin before turning that grin on Grayson. “I’m ready to order if you are.” He nodded and lifted his hand in an indication for me to go first. “Hmm,” I hummed, studying the menu like I was struggling to decide. “I’d really like to try the lobster, I’ve heard it’s fabulous here.” I smiled kindly to the server. “But I’ve also been craving a steak. And I see you have a Kobe filet. What a difficult decision.” I tapped my chin in faux contemplation for a few seconds, then finally snapped the menu closed. “You know what? I’ll just have both. You only live once, right? Oh, and I saw you have grilled oysters with shaved black truffle and caviar. I’d like that as an appetizer, please.”

I handed the baffled server my menu and turned to smirk at Grayson. “I’m hungry.” I shrugged like I hadn’t just ordered myself a two-hundred-dollar meal.

If I’d expected him to get pissed about the exorbitant amount of money I’d just spent on a meal that I probably wouldn’t even be able to eat a quarter of — which I did — I’d have been sorely disappointed at his reaction — which I was.

Closing his menu as well, he handed it over and said, “I’ll have the same, minus the appetizer. And I think we’ll try the raspberry mousse crème brûlée with the chocolate truffles for dessert, as well.” He leveled me with a look that screamed “I know what game you’re playing,” then said, “What can I say? I’m hungry too.” Damn! Foiled again! “You know,” he started once the server hustled away to put in our ridiculous order, “I find a woman with an appetite extremely attractive.”

I was losing ground. I was floundering. I was in serious danger of turning into one of the women around me and swooning at just the sight of his beautiful eyes. I needed to do something — stat! “So you’re calling me fat?”

That’s the best you can come up with? Really?

He sat back, his smile never wavering. “You know damn good and well that’s not what I meant, but you’re welcome to keep up the charade if it’ll make you feel better.”

The server returned with our wine, uncorking and pouring as I scowled at Grayson the entire time. Once he left again, I picked up my glass and took a looooong sip. Damn it, it was good. He had really great taste in wine — not that I’d ever tell him that.

“You’re making it really hard to pretend to like you.”

As if reading my mind, he answered, “You might not like me, but I’d be willing to lay money you want to fuck me right now.”

And there went my panties. Up. In. Flames. “Pfft. As if.” Yep, I really said it. When I got home, I was going to shove my head right in the oven. “You’re not even my type.”

He regarded me as he took a drink of wine. “And why is that? I’ve been curious ever since that day in the conference room. What is it about me that isn’t your type? I have a mirror so I know I’m attractive. I have a stable, well-paying job with excellent medical benefits and a 401k, I’m disease-free, and I don’t live in my parents’ basement. I know how to do my own laundry, I can cook and iron, and I’m a nonsmoker. To most women, I’d be a catch.”

“You might be all of that, Gray, but you’re also a playboy. I’ve made it a rule in life to stay far, far away from playboys.”

It was his turn to scoff. “And what could possibly make you think I’m a playboy?”

I opened my mouth to reply, only to come up empty. Shit! There had to be something, some reason for my assumption, right? “Uh….” Maybe if I’d Googled the bastard before our date I would’ve had more ammunition.

“I never expected you to be the type to make a snap judgment, Lola,” he said, yanking me from my thoughts.

“I’m not!” I objected.

“You looked at me and saw that I have money, dress well, appreciate nice things, and am a single thirty-five-year-old man, and you automatically jumped to the conclusion that it means I have an issue with commitment. Am I wrong?”

“And you’re telling me you’re not?”

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you. Yes, I’ll give you that most men who fit the description I just laid out are more than likely in the market for nothing more than a quick fuck. Hell, my best friend’s one of them. But you made an unfair assessment and haven’t even given me the benefit of defending myself before acting as judge, jury, and executioner. I have to say, Lola, I’m disappointed. I expected more from you.”

Oh my God. In two seconds flat, he’d managed to make me feel worse than every single one of the nuns in my old Catholic school put together. And that wasn’t something you saw every day. Nuns were notorious for their guilt trips, only coming in second to Italian mothers. I was well versed with both.

“I….” Then I went on to say the two words I never expected to say to Grayson Lockhart. “I’m sorry.”

Well sonofabitch.