Brutally Beautiful(29)

Wait. What? He was watching me freaking dance while I cleaned?

My mouth wanted to drop open. I was beyond humiliated, but there was no way I would let him know it bothered me. “I’m fine, Bree,” I answered, indifferently.

“Ooookay then, enjoy whatever the hell you got going on here…” she said awkwardly, and walked out of the trailer.

Slowly, I moved myself behind the small kitchen counter that separated the kitchen and other rooms, trying to block his view from me. “What are you doing here, Mr. Grayson?” A slow burn spread across my cheeks and heated my scalp as I stood, waiting for his explanation. He watched me dance?

He moved around the counter closer to me. His intense stare lowered from my flushed cheeks down to my breasts, across my stomach, and lingered with heat on my bare legs before it traveled slowly back over my entire body again to my eyes. His look was dark. Sexy. Oh. My. God. It felt as if he licked me in one long slow stroke, up and down my entire body. Thanks universe, just crank the sexual tension up a few notches, whydon’tcha?

I stood there trembling, uncertain as to what I should do. Uncertain as to how I felt about his eyes on me. Okay. Fine. I. Liked. It. There, I admitted it.

“Uh…I…I forgot my jacket again. Last night. Here,” he choked out.

Was I making that man stutter? Because of what I was wearing? Was barely wearing. Small beads of sweat broke out across my forehead.

I seriously wanted to cross my arms over my chest. Even though I was wearing clothes, the small amount of them combined with his lusty stare made me feel completely naked. And those dark dangerous eyes of his made me want to move closer to him. Shit. “You know what I think? I think you forget a lot of shit when I'm around.”

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered hoarsely, eyes still fixed on mine.

I lost all rational thought. Lost the use of my limbs and I was melting fast.

The mop slipped from my hands and clinked against the counter, averting my eyes from his. I tried pretending that those two pathetically simple words didn’t just cause my panties to leak a drip down my legs. “Beautiful,” I repeated flatly. That was the first time in my life a man called me that and it had to come from an *.

He moved toward me with intense purpose and power, dipping his head, forcing me…challenging me to keep eye contact with him.

Well, too bad. I turned my head away from his, looking past him, beyond him, as if he didn’t matter. Heat crept over my skin as he slowly inched closer to me and I turned to face him again, my eyes locked on his. There was something unnerving in his gaze, something dark, cold and alive there, begging to be warmed. His steel eyes fluttered slowly down to my lips and my pulse instantly started hammering through my veins. The closer he moved, the faster it pounded. Both his hands reached up and gently cupped my face, and he leaned forward laying his forehead tenderly against mine. “Yes. Beautiful. Stunning. Bewitching. Ravishing. Fucking angelic.” He smelled like the most expensive brandy money could buy, it was dizzying. I had no personal space left. He took it all, absorbed every last breath of it, almost knocking me to my knees.

One strong hand cupped the back of my head, his long fingers doing something to the nape of my neck that sent chills down my spine. His expression was dark, intent, lusty, making heat scorch up my neck. His heather grey eyes bore down on mine, making my heart pound violently in hopes of escaping from my rib cage.

My mouth opened to speak, but our breath just mingled and he growled a low rumbly groan as he fiercely crushed his lips against mine, drowning out my words, capturing my breath. A relentless flood of warmth swelled in my whole body. His lips were soft and unyielding, moving against me in slow passionate circles. The heat of his mouth made me gasp for air, and the taste of the dark brandy that flavored his mouth was delicious. Hard and rough, his mouth raked over mine. I swayed back against the sink, hands leaning back. I needed something to hold on to – something that would keep me here on earth, because his lips on mine, his hands, fingertips cupping my face, my head, made me feel…everything. My heart pounded erratically in my chest. The heat of his fingertips singed into my skin, and my insides thawed, softened, liquefied into a wet hot mess. Every spot where his skin touched mine, I felt a powerful staggering heat. The squeeze of his fingers over my flesh sent a rush of need through my belly. Where was this coming from? Why the hell was I standing here letting him TOUCH ME? WHY the HELL WAS I KISSING HIM BACK?