“I’m sorry, Grayson,”I babble the moment we get back into our room.
There’s a heaviness pressing down on my chest. I’ve felt it from the moment I slipped out before so much as a good morning and was helpless to its growth when he appeared downstairs and handed James his ass without breaking a sweat.
I can still hear all of the things he said . . . all the little pieces of me that I hadn’t realized he was collecting along the years. Flattered doesn’t quite cut it. It’s more like complete and utter shock that a man like Grayson Pierce, in his confident, powerful glory, was paying that much attention to me and the inner workings of my brain.
He doesn’t say anything as he moves past me and kicks off his shoes. It’s rare that I see him dressed in anything besides black dress pants and a button-down. The whole jeans thing is working for him far too well to be so rare. His ass is thick, and in a pair of well-fitted denim, I think it may be the nicest one I’ve ever seen.
I’m getting distracted.
“Are you upset with me? I know this all must feel so juvenile,” I add with a swallow.
Grayson’s wide shoulders fall back an inch as he runs a hand over his head and cups his nape. The veins in the back of his hand tense, and I gulp this time.
“I’m not a man Niko’s age, Jill. Juvenile occurrences do happen to me, despite popular belief.”
Ivy’s husband is much older than we are. He’s thirty-eight to her twenty-two, which is a large gap, but it works for them. Grayson’s only twenty-eight, which makes him a mere three years older than I am. Still, he doesn’t act like he should still be in his twenties. His maturity could put men older than Niko to shame.
That’s why I’m so nervous that I’ve scared him away with all of my drama.
When he turns to face me, I hold my breath. He doesn’t look mad, but I doubt he’s the type of man to glare and mouth off when he is. No, everything I know about this man tells me that he’s the silent, “I’m going to spank your ass until you’re red and sore” type, which Imaybeshouldn’t like as much as I do.
There are a million ways I could earn forgiveness if that really is the case, all of which I fear I’d be more than willing to offer.
“I was worried more than anything when I saw you weren’t in bed. There were things I wanted to do before getting up and ready for the day, all of which involved you still naked and bleary-eyed.”
My skin heats as flames singe my insides. “Oh.”
“Instead, I went downstairs to see him with his hands on you. I just need a minute to calm myself before I push you too hard, too fast,” he says, voice tight and deep.
“What do you mean?”
Wetness pools between my legs, dampening my sweatpants. If I’m not careful, he’s going to be able to see the wet patch in thegrey fabric. Maybe I should let him. I’m curious what he would do if he took one look down my body and saw exactly what he was doing to me.
“It shouldn’t surprise you to learn that I’m incredibly possessive. It’s something I’ve always struggled with when it comes to those I care for. I can be intense. Both emotionally and physically,” he explains, his dark eyes piercing into me.
“I’m starting to piece that together, yeah. I don’t think that’s necessarily a bad thing. As long as it isn’t suffocating.”
“What would you consider suffocating?”
It isn’t a poke at me. He genuinely wants to know how I feel, and that’s refreshing. I’ve always thought this about him. Even before we had begun to get to know each other as friends. He’s never been anything but straightforward and honest, and that makes it easy to open up.
“I just mean that there’s a fine line between possessive and controlling. The former, I think, can be sexy. The latter is a no go for me. I have no interest in being controlled.”
He tilts his head and tightens his gaze, like he’s trying to flay open my mind with it. “Unless we’re in the bedroom. Then, Jill, I’d say you like being controlled very much. If I’m wrong, then tell me now, because I’ll need clear boundaries if you’re willing to give this a real shot, this charade be damned.”
“Are you asking to be my boyfriend right now?” I blurt out, my cheeks feeling hot enough to burst into two balls of fire.
Humour flickers across his face. “That’s a very simple way of describing it.”
“Then yes. Yes, I want to try this for real,” I declare, not even a minuscule doubt in my mind.
If there’s anything I’ve realized over the last two days, it’s that I was so utterly blind to not only his feelings but also mine. It hasn’t been “just” friendship in a very long time. At least notonce he started playing a more pivotal role in my life outside of work.
“And what I said before?”
I lift a sweaty hand to my hair and tuck a few messy pieces behind my ear. “I do like it when you’re controlling in the bedroom. That’s been new for me. I’ve never been with anyone who’s been dominant the way you are, but it doesn’t scare me. It actually feels . . .”
Embarrassment floods me. I’m no prude, but this feels like I’m showing him who I am in a way more intimate way than I’m used to. There’s nowhere to hide now.Not from him. If I ran, I know he’d follow.
