“I know,” he says and his mouth comes down on mine, his tongue licking long and deep, and he tastes of possession, of demand.
His hand slides under my jacket and he drags it down my shoulders, trapping my wrists behind my back. “Grayson,” I murmur, not sure if I’m objecting or requesting. “We’re at the office.”
“And when we leave, it will be with the taste of you on my tongue.” He lifts me and sets me on my new desk, and his eyes, those intense green eyes, burn with passion, with hunger, and my body wants what he offers.
“I don’t think—”
“Good,” he says, sliding my skirt up my thighs, and inching my knees apart. “I don’t want you to think.”
“We’ve never done this here.”
“There’s a cure for that.” He goes down on one knee, and kisses my knee through the thigh-high hose I’m wearing. My breath is raspy, my body tingling, every nerve ending I own on fire, alive. I’m so alive with this man in a way I wasn’t without him.
I want to tell him he has nothing to prove. I want to tell him he’s everything and Kevin is nothing but a friend, but I know he knows. He knows. This is about more than Kevin. This is about three months that he can’t control. Three months that he won’t be fully in control. And what he wants and needs right now, is just that: control.
His hands slide up my thighs and when his thumbs settle on the bare skin above my thigh-highs, I suck in a breath. He strokes a lazy finger along the delicate skin and I clench against the sensations. He catches my knees and kisses them. “Relax, baby.”
“What if someone comes in?”
“I locked the door.”
“Oh.”
“Oh,” he repeats, his really wonderful lips quirking, lips that are about to be in the most intimate part of me. He eases my legs apart again and inches my skirt all the way to my hips. He leans in closer, his breath a warm whisper over my sex. My nipples pucker, my breasts are heavy. My sex is pulsing and my hands are tied. He gives my clit a lick. I lean back, catching my trapped hands on the desk. And just in time. He yanks away my panties.
I gasp and before I can fully recover from the shock, he’s suckling me and I’m gasping all over again, sensations trembling through me.
His fingers slide along the slick sensitive folds of my body and—oh God—slip inside me. I’m arching into his touch, unaware of anything but his hands and mouth teasing me, driving me wild. He’s punishing in the most delicious of ways with his exploration, flicking my clit with his thumb while his tongue is delving in and out, licking here and there. And those fingers, those talented fingers stretch me, stroke me, press deeper and harder, exploring every sensitive part of me. I can hear my pants, feel the rasp of my dry throat, and I want to reach for him, but he pulls me forward, drapes my legs over his shoulders, forcing me to hold myself up with my hands. It’s about control and he has it. And I like when he has it.
I trust him. I can forget when he’s in control. I can let go when he’s in control.
Blood roars in my ears, and the sweet spots he touches ignite, cool, and repeat. I know nothing right now but his touch, his control, my need for his control, but pleasure builds and suddenly there is a tight hard clenching in my stomach that darts lower and claims that control. Grayson suckles my clit and I’m there in that blissful place of no return. I cry out and my sex spasms hard around his fingers. My vision blacks out and pleasure rocks my body so hard I can feel it in my bones.
Unable to hold myself up, I’m falling backwards, but somehow Grayson is there, catching me and pulling my jacket back into place. I’m sitting up, cradled by his hand between my shoulders blades when he kisses me, his tongue salty against mine. “Now, I taste like you,” he murmurs. “And now, my world is right again.”
My hand settles on his strong jaw. “You own me, Grayson Bennett. That used to scare me, but not anymore.”
He catches my hand and kisses my knuckles. “You own me, too, baby.” He lifts me off the desk and sets me on the floor, righting my skirt for me, and I can feel the edge in him has eased. But it’s not gone. But how can it be? We’re under attack by a dead man.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Grayson
With Mia on my tongue, I do indeed, feel better. The pleasures of a woman you love are too often underrated, usually by those who don’t know what it means to love a woman. Lord only knows I found out just how impossible it is to replace her when I lost Mia. I needed her. I need her. I won’t lose her again. I damn sure won’t let anyone take her from me.
While Mia freshens up, I grab my briefcase, check out for the day with Nancy, and Mia and I meet in the lobby. We exit to the elevator banks to find Blake waiting on us. As usual, he’s dressed in jeans and a Walker Security collared shirt that he manages to make look rich in all kinds of ways. He’s a man of confidence, skill, and wealth but what I like about him besides that skill, is his values, his morals, the love he has for his wife. The way he is who he is no matter who I am or who is around.
“I’m pleased as fuck,” he greets, “to report that the reporters are gone. The police pushed them back so far they just left.”
I arch a brow. “Why do I believe you had something to do with that?”
“They needed something from me,” Blake replies. “I told them I needed something from them. I know you legal folks know all about quid pro quo. Eric’s still at our offices. He was running some number sequence and I was afraid he’d have a damn seizure if I made him stop.”
Mia laughs that sweet musical laugh of hers and fuck me, I feel it in my chest. I own her? She fucking owns the hell out of me and I don’t even care. That’s how much I love this woman. The way my father loved my mother. “Just like old times,” she murmurs. “Eric and his numbers.” Her voice softens.
“And his loyalty.”
She’s right. Eric’s a good friend. One of the only people who knows just how not good I was without Mia. One of the few people I can say would die for me, and me for him. A real friend and a man like me can’t be confident anyone is a friend, except Eric. And Mia. A man appreciates the value of such things in times like these and therefore I count myself lucky as hell.
Blake motions to the hallway. “I’m still recommending we exit through the side door. We don’t need any company following us to the meetup with Reese.”
“I cannot wait until we can just live our life again,” Mia murmurs.
My hand slides to her lower back, but I don’t comment. At this point, it’s not about what I say. It’s about what I do and what I have to do is to make this go away, now, not months from now. The three of us make our way to the service elevator. Once we’re inside, with the door shut, I hand Blake the file. “Kevin Murphy gave this to me. He claims they’re all connected to Ri and dirty. All of them ex-employees of Ri’s we hired.”
Blake accepts the file. “We’ve already scouted out that group, but I’ll give it a look-see. You met him?”
“I did,” I confirm.
“And what’s your read on him?” He eyes Mia. “I know you got some weird vibe.”
“I did,” she says, “and I don’t know what to think. I never felt weird about him until today.”