The Design(48)

Was he going to touch me in his office, where anyone could hear us?

His confidence took me by surprise, but I let him pull me closer until our hips met and I could wrap my hands around his neck.

“I haven’t seen you all day and I wasn’t sure how busy you were,” I spoke as our eyes met.

He smiled and bent to kiss me again before replying, “Very busy.”

I hummed against his chest and inhaled the scent I’d come to love. His suit was softer than I expected and I could feel his toned arms beneath, keeping me pinned against him.

“I’m busy too. The CEO here is a real tyrant,” I said with a cheeky smile.

He chuckled and let me go, taking a step back to lean against his desk. His eyes slid down my body and I felt far too exposed in my fitted pants and jacket.

“I’m going to get drinks with Brooklyn and Jason tonight,” I blurted out. I wanted him to come, but we were in that gray area that accompanies situations like ours. I couldn’t just come out and tell him that I wanted to see him later because that’d be too obvious. I had to make it seem casual so that I could try to hold my cards close for as long as possible.

He nodded and crossed his arms. “What time?”

“Six.”

Ask if you can join. Ask if you can join.

“Should be fun. Jason’s a good guy.”

He wasn’t going to make this easy.

I nodded and took a minuscule step closer.

“Why don’t you come with us?”

I wondered if he heard how shaky my voice sounded.

He smiled. “I’d like that.”

I bit down on the side of my bottom lip, elated that he hadn’t turned me down.

“Does Brooklyn know about us?” he asked.

I swallowed. “No. Should she?”

He shrugged. “I just wanted to make sure I played it right.”

I took a minute to mull over our options and then I came to the conclusion that telling Brooklyn about us this early would be a bad idea. Surely she’d have her own opinions about us, but I was still trying to figure out where we stood on my own. I didn’t need her influencing anything yet.

“So, it’ll just be a friendly happy hour,” I said with suggestive smile.

He reached out and dipped his finger into the waist of my pants so that he could pull me toward him. I had no choice but to comply or I’d have tripped forward over my feet.

“What if I can’t fake it later?” he asked, letting his hands drift up to my bare neck.

I closed my eyes and tried to come up with a response. Voices from the office drifted through the door and goose bumps blossomed beneath his touch. His left hand trailed up around my chin and brushed a few tendrils of hair behind my ear.

“Maybe we should kiss right now and get it out of our system,” I suggested selfishly.

He laughed. “Somehow I don’t think a kiss would do it.”

I opened my eyes and took a step backward.

“You’re right, I'd better just get back to work,” I said.

Grayson laughed and reached out for me again, twisting us around so that the back of my thighs pressed against his desk. He pinned me there, held my neck, and dipped me backward.

I twined my fingers together around his neck to keep from falling back as he kissed me and slipped his hand beneath the hem of my blouse. My stomach quivered as he skimmed over my bare stomach, blazing a trail of desire as he went.

“Grayson!” The intercom speakers blared through the room and I jumped away from him. “You have a meeting with Walters in fifteen minutes. If you leave now, it’ll take you about ten minutes to get to his office.”

The intercom cut off but my face still heated as if Beatrice had actually walked in and caught us in the act.

“Oh God, that kiss was a terrible, terrible idea,” I said, pushing him away so that I could straighten my blouse and pants.

He laughed and shook his head, already en route to a small bathroom to the side of his office.

“I like playing with fire,” he said, meeting my eye in the mirror. "And I don't have any intention of stopping."

I watched him straighten his tie and suit jacket in the mirror. Every single one of his features was sharp and ready to deliver a killer presentation. His pants however were sporting a noticeable bulge, one he needed to attend to if he hoped to walk through the office without causing a scene. I smiled at the knowledge that I’d been the cause of it.

“You have my number, right?” Grayson asked, reaching down to splash some water on his face and then dabbing it dry with a hand towel.

“I stole it from Brooklyn’s phone a while back,” I admitted.

And by “a while back”, I mean when I was eighteen.

“Good,” he said, coming out of the bathroom and collecting a few papers from his desk. “Text me the info for drinks. I’ll be there.”

…



“Have a good meeting with Grayson?” Hannah asked as I refilled my coffee in the kitchen an hour later. Since leaving Grayson’s office I’d been very productive: I’d managed to check an email, pick up the phone only to forget who I was meant to be calling, and then sip two cups of coffee while recreating our various make outs in my head.

I glanced up at Hannah with a confused glance.

“Uh, yeah, I guess the meeting was good.” I was hoping I sounded nonchalant, but the words came out more defensive than I’d intended.