Groaning, I pushed myself, so I was sitting up. My legs shook and I willed them to keep steady. “I shouldn’t be doing this,” I replied.
“You aren’t his girlfriend.”
“I know.”
“So?” Gray sat up next to me. “Keep dating him and when needs be…” He placed a kiss on my back, and I shivered and closed my eyes. “We’ll keep each other satisfied.”
Letting out a shaky breath, I glanced over my shoulder at him. “Aren’t you meant to be convincing me to do good?”
“Need I remind you what I’m responsible for?”
Nothing good would come of this. We were breaking too many rules too quickly.
“We can’t do this again,” I told him firmly.
He narrowed his eyes. “We’ll see about that.”
“It’s not a challenge, Gray.”
“Isn’t it?”
He pulled me in towards him before kissing me again. I melted into the embrace and Gray pulled me so that I straddled his lap. I couldn’t help the groan that escaped my lips.
Gray broke the kiss and laughed. “I guess it can’t be called a challenge if you give in so easily.”
I slammed both of my palms against his chest and stood up, a little unsteadily, thanks to the lack of strength in my legs.
“This isn’t happening again,” I repeated.
I started my slow ascent up the stairs, and Gray called after me, “Whatever you say, Scott!”
“And you better bring my car back here!”
I’d attempted to see Matthew in some way, shape or form, every night this week. If it wasn't a date, then I went to his place, or he came to the house so that my evenings were filled with ways to avoid Gray.
Although my evenings were free of him, my mornings and some of my working days were not. It was in those moments that Gray tried to get under my skin. He was a mixture of subtle and blunt, swapping between gentle brushes of skin and standing an inch too close to pinning me against surfaces and telling me exactly what he wanted to do to me between stolen kisses.
I was proud to say I hadn’t given into him again; however, it had led to plenty of dreams of Gray. There was an undeniable attraction between us, but if anyone found out, there would be disciplinary action at work, consequences from the Gods, and worst of all, Gray would have won.
When I returned from Sal’s on Saturday morning, having channelled my frustrations in the ring, Gray was lying on the floor of the living room in the most ungodly fashion.
“Everything okay?” I asked, peering down at him.
He sat boldly upright and beamed at me. My heart skittered erratically behind my breastbone. Gray was all pearly whites and shining blue eyes. Waves of pure joy rolled off him, and I tried to ignore the tornado of butterflies that’d been unleashed in my gut.
“Sloan had the baby,” he announced.
“She gave birth already?”
He nodded in response, and I grinned.
“That’s amazing news! Boy or girl?” I asked.
“A baby boy. I’ve been waiting for you.”
“What for?”
“We’re going to visit.”
