“You need help?” Anthym offered.
“I’ve managed this long,” Grayson said dryly.
“We can’t have the pilots waiting, is all,” Anthym said quickly.
Liar, I thought viciously.
I heard her leave and then the slip of silk along a starched linen shirt.
Grayson’s face appeared under the bed.
He cupped my chin and gave me a quick kiss.
“I’ll be back by Tuesday,” he whispered. “I can’t be away longer than that.”
My heart felt like it was going to burst at his words, until I realized that he wasn’t coming back for me.
Tuesday was the day he saw his mother.
40
GRAYSON
Ididn’t allow myself the indulgence of sinking into the spiral of what had transpired with Lexi until I was safely in Paris in the most upscale hotel in the area. We’d flown all night then immediately stepped into an itinerary of meetings, tours, and presentations. Now, twenty-five hours after I’d fucked her literally until she’d screamed on my bed, I could think about what I’d done to Lexi.
And hated myself for it.
I pulled my phone out of my jacket pocket.
I didn’t have a text or call or anything from her.
She must hate me.
I shouldn’t have come on this trip; I should have taken her to a doctor.
I was a monster.
I sat down on my bed.
Should I text her? That seemed too trite. I wanted to call her, but maybe that would put her on the spot. An email would be more formal, but I couldn’t very well send an email through my Richmond Electric CEO email account to my assistant to askher how badly she was injured when we had rough sex in my penthouse.
Marius would have a fit. It would be a massive lawsuit.
The suitcases sat unpacked on the floor of the hotel room.
I removed my jacket then tie then cuff links, needing something, however mundane, to distract me.
Had she been scared, hurt, afraid? Was she angry? Did she hate me?
“You’re a horrible person. You shouldn’t have gone back there. You knew she was there,” I berated myself. “Why can’t you have more self-control?”
I closed my eyes.
Being inside of her had been decadent—the way she had clenched around my cock as she had come and come again. I was getting hard thinking about it.
“You’re never going to be with her again,” I told myself savagely, picked up the largest suitcase, and threw it on the bed.
On autopilot, I hung up the shirts on the wooden hangers provided by the hotel. Hidden among the shirts was a manila folder.
