Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81581 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81581 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Obsessive about his company.
Driven to succeed.
But not a possessive lunatic.
I’m still trying to convince myself when Gray’s office door creaks open, and Jeff steps out. His gaze darts over to mine. Guilt shines in his eyes. My heart rate speeds up, and I frown at him. He gives me a quick wave in greeting before stalking back to his office. I’m still staring at him when Gray comes sauntering out. He’s scowling until he sees me. All irritation melts from his expression as his face lights up. And dammit, I feel my face lighting up too. I love how my presence seems to cheer him up.
“Good morning,” I say with a smile.
He strolls over to my desk and sits on the edge. When he reaches out to toy with a strand of my hair, my eyes flutter closed and I exhale a tiny sigh. His fingertips brush along my jaw and down my throat. I pop my eyes open when he touches the string of pearls my mother gave to me as a high school graduation present.
“I like this necklace on you,” he praises, his dark brows pulled together as he inspects my jewelry. This necklace was the only thing I was able to take with me when I ran away from Vaughn because I happened to be wearing it that day.
My heart is thundering because, God, he smells delicious and he’s touching me intimately, despite our workplace setting. Warning bells are going off inside my head because all it takes is the wrong person seeing our exchange to give me hell. Unfortunately for me, I’ve never been one to heed warnings very well and tend to float off into the deep end without a raft.
Gray will save me.
Once, I thought Vaughn would too.
A rough thumb brushes against my bottom lip and my eyes dart to his. His icy blue eyes are narrowed as he scrutinizes me. Seconds pass by—tick, tick, tick—as I remain under his microscope. The thing with Gray is, it’s almost as if he can see right into my head. As if he knows exactly what’s running through my mind. I feel naked and exposed around him.
“Are you sore?” he questions, his voice husky. His eyes flicker with heat that burns its way straight to my core.
I jerk my gaze around the office but nobody is paying attention. “Yes,” I admit with a whisper.
A smug grin tugs at his handsome mouth. “Good. I like the idea of you thinking about my big cock every time you sit down.”
“Gray!” I hiss and once again do a visual sweep of the office for nosy co-workers.
He shrugs. “What? I’m just being honest. How busy are you right now?”
This feels like a trick question, and like the naïve girl I am, I follow him right into the proverbial white van where he promises candy and puppies. “Not very busy.”
“Good,” he says with a wolfish grin that has my panties becoming wet between my thighs. “I need your assistance in my office.”
He stands and turns away to walk back to his room. My gaze roams his fit body that looks too perfect in a suit. It’s a good thing I’m leaving this company soon because having to stare at him each day looking good enough to eat is quite distracting.
I’ll be leaving soon.
Several days ago, I’d have been thrilled.
But that was all before Gray finally noticed me.
Guilt and indecision wars within me. He’s already done so much for me. We’ve gone from co-workers to friends to lovers in a matter of days. Grayson Maxwell is so intense that I’ve easily been swept up into his vortex.
How will it feel when I finally crawl my way out?
Will I be the same?
Rising from my chair, I push away those thoughts for now as I stride into his office and close the door behind me.
“Lock it.”
His rough command sends shivers through my body. I flip the lock and regard him with my hands on my hips.
“What do you need help with?” I question, my voice raw and shaky.
He sheds his jacket and hangs it on the back of his chair. The powder blue dress shirt he’s wearing today molds perfectly against his skin. I can see his tattoos through the fabric and it sends another thrill shooting through me.
“Gray,” I try again, my voice rising. “What do you need?”
He arches a brow at me and pins me with a smoldering glare. “You know what I need.”
As I choke on my words, he unbuttons his shirt at his wrist and begins rolling up his sleeve. The veins in his forearm bulge and the muscles flex with his movement. I find myself staring at his wrist of all things with my mouth watering for a taste. He continues on with the other side. Then, he begins working at the knot on his navy-colored tie.