Lola

THANKS TO THE NC-17-rated dreams I had after mine and Grayson’s sham of a date, I was a panting, sweaty, horny mess when my alarm sounded and jolted me awake. Three things that led to me being in an epically shitty mood.

Sexual frustration and I did not get along. Usually, whenever I was in the mood, I’d scroll through my contacts in search of one of the men I kept on my roster for when I needed to be wham-bam-thank-you-ma’amed, but for some ridiculous reason, none of those names held any appeal when I’d looked through them earlier that morning.

There was only one number I wanted to dial and I refused to allow myself to cave, no matter how insanely good-looking he was… or how amazing he smelled every time he came close to me, or how good he was at kissing.

Damn it! Now I’m thinking about kissing and sniffing him!

If this went on for much longer, I was afraid my poor neglected va-jay-jay was going to turn on me. And who knew what kind of trouble that hussy would cause if set loose.

By the time I made it to my office building, Starbucks in hand, I’d gone from aggravated to straight-up pissed right the hell off. And it was all his fault! Grayson Lockhart was a dick! A sexy, chiseled, walking wet dream dick!

I bet he has a really good-looking dick.

Stop it, Lola!

“Hoo-we! Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning,” Bob teased as I made my way past the security desk in the lobby. I wasn’t even in the mood for our typical morning banter.

“Push your luck and you’re going to have my size seven-and-a-half planted somewhere even Loretta won’t be willing to go,” I shot back, causing him to throw his head back and hoot with laughter.

“Only thing I’ve ever known to put that kinda sour expression on a woman’s face was a man. You finally meet your match, sweetheart?”

Bob clearly wants to die today. Shooting him a look that I hoped melted his skin, I clamped my lips between my teeth and proceeded toward my elevator bank, ignoring the raucous laughter that followed me.

I hit the Up button and let out a relieved sigh when one of the elevators dinged and the door instantly opened for me. I was hoping for a short ride to my floor and was almost home free, watching the doors close, when a hand suddenly appeared between them, halting their progress. And not just any hand — his hand. The hand I’d spent an unhealthy amount of time thinking of the night before. Had I been close enough, I probably would’ve jabbed the Door Close button a million times.

What did he do, run to catch up with me? The stalker.

“Well.” The jackass grinned smugly. “My morning just keeps getting better and better.”

“God hates me,” I muttered between clenched teeth, looking up at the ceiling as Grayson moved close, forced to step behind me as the onslaught of people he allowed to get on with us took up the confined space.

My back remained ramrod straight, my heart pounding against my breastbone as his warm breath tickled the small strip of exposed skin where my shoulder met my neck. He was close. So close. I imagined I could feel the heat radiating off his body, my skin prickling with awareness.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered against my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.

I shot him a cutting look over my shoulder in warning and mouthed, “Stop it.”

He grinned cheekily, making me hate him even more because I really, really loved that smile.

I turned back around, doing my best to ignore his presence, hoping our little exchange didn’t garner any unwanted attention. To my astonishment, he moved even closer, so much so that I could feel his chest vibrate with a silent chuckle.

I shoved my elbow back, jabbing him in the solar plexus, and smiled at the sound of his muffled grunt of pain.

“That wasn’t very nice,” he whispered once again, only that time he placed the hand closest to the wall on my hip. I gasped as his fingers tensed in a gentle squeeze. Heat suffused my entire body at the simple yet intimate touch.

The elevator stopped and the doors opened to allow some of the people off at their floor.

“When someone compliments you, the normal response is to say ‘thank you.’”

I glanced back as the doors began to close once again and hissed, “There are no cameras around. What the hell are you doing?”

That cheeky smile returned and I felt it low in my belly. “I’m paying you a compliment. Say ‘Thank you, Gray.’”

The glare on my face was a contradiction to the warm, happy whoosh in my stomach.

“Thank you, Gray,” I ground out for no other reason than to put an end to our interlude before someone caught on… or at least that’s what I told myself.

“You’re welcome,” he answered cheerfully before standing tall and looking straight ahead.

The elevator stopped three more times, allowing people off at one floor after another until there was no one left but Grayson and me. Despite all the available space, he didn’t move away, and when I attempted to step to the side in order to create room between us, his fingers, still firmly on my hip, tightened their grip and he grabbed my other hip with his available hand, effectively holding me in place.

His nose brushed the delicate skin behind my ear, and I had to close my eyes against the onslaught of warring emotions and hormones raging through me. “Wh-what are you doing?” I stuttered, swallowing thickly to ease my suddenly dry throat.

“You smell amazing.” His words weren’t soft whispers; instead they came out in a sort of growl. “What perfume are you wearing?”

Goose bumps broke out across my skin. My head screamed, Abort! Abort!, while my body wanted nothing more than to turn around, tackle Grayson to the floor of the elevator, and have its wicked way with him.

“I-I—” I cleared my throat, an unfamiliar sense of being flustered suddenly taking hold of me. It was all the more reason not to like this man. I wasn’t the type of woman to fluster easily. I was a strong, independent, career-minded woman. Men had no power over me unless I allowed it… or so had been the case before the exasperating Grayson Lockhart waltzed into my life and turned it on its head. “I’m not wearing any… perfume, that is.”

The sound that rumbled from his chest was a cross between a hum and a moan… and I loved that sound. Damn it all to Hell! “Christ, that’s all you, then?”

“I… guess so?” I ended on a high-pitched inflection, turning what should’ve been a statement into a question. I just didn’t know how to handle this enigmatic man. I felt out of my depth, out of my league… hell, out of the damn ballpark. It was not something I was used to.

“Well, I approve,” he grunted.

Some of my bearings thankfully returned in that moment and I was able to reply bitingly. “Oh, I’m so pleased you approve. Now I can die a happy woman. Grayson Lockhart likes how I smell. My goal in life has been fulfilled.”

His fingertips skimmed up and down, coming to a stop on my waist, and I swear to God, I could feel his touch through my dress as if I were wearing nothing at all. “You know, your smart mouth might just be the very thing I like about you most.”

Spinning around to face him for the first time since we stepped on the elevator, I leveled him with my most intense glare, all the while my body acutely aware of the fact that the move had caused me to lose the touch of his hands. It was not happy with me.

“You know this goes beyond sexual harassment, right? This entire conversation doesn’t even border on indecent — it sailed right over that line and has now entered lawsuit territory.” Not that I’d ever consider filing a complaint, not when I secretly loved his attention as much as I did. I wasn’t delusional; even though part of me couldn’t stand him, I could admit to myself that there was another part of me that was wild for him — but there was no way in hell I’d ever admit that out loud. My dichotomous emotions were going to drive me to insanity.

“I might be concerned if I wasn’t certain you enjoyed it just as much as I did,” he replied, leaving me speechless as the doors once again slid open. “I believe this is your stop, Ms. Abbatelli.”

My mouth dropped open at the outrageousness of his statement. I was momentarily stunned, only coming to my senses when Grayson moved to hold the closing doors open. It was in that moment I realized Grayson hadn’t bothered to hit the button for his floor. He’d planned this whole thing. He wanted the chance to discombobulate me. He seemed to get off on my reactions. The stupid, sexy jerk. He’d played me like a violin. Oh, he’s good.

With a harrumph, I spun on my heels and flounced out of the elevator insolently, telling myself that the sensual laughter that followed after me had no effect. I was a big fat liar.

“Have a wonderful day, Lola. I know I will,” he called to me.

I chanced one last scowl over my shoulder at him before flipping my hair and turning back around… and running smack into a glass wall.