I stared at her for another few minutes before asking,“Are you ready to save your dad?”
She bit her lip and nodded.
Chapter 34
Betty
The doorman led us to the elevator, its doors sliding shut as our reflections met our gaze in the mirrored surface. My eyes locked with Gray’s, and I saw no attempt to conceal the heat and barely suppressed desire in his gaze as it swept over me, even now.
“Would you quit staring at me like that?” I murmured.“I’m in jeans and a trench coat. I’m not your next snack.” Even though I was chastising him, it didn’t stop me from trailing my hands along the handrail behind me, striking a sultry pose to defy his intense stare.
“Buttercup,” he warned.“I’m really trying not to smudge your lipstick, but I’m running out of reasons not to.” His hands clenched on the railing, the fingers of his right hand pressing against mine, his pinky seeking a connection.
I grinned, kissing my hand and blowing it toward his reflection.“It’s smudge-proof lipstick,” I teased, holding up the palm I’d just kissed to show the lipstick hadn’t transferred.
His pupils dilated, and he pounced, rolling to face me, his hands caging mine on the rail.
I yelped with surprise.
He gently bit my lower lip, testing my claim of flawless lipstick. Pulling back, he seemed pleased with the result, his mouth curling into a devious smile.
“Told you so,” I goaded.
His fingers tiptoed inside my jacket, resting on my back to keep the painting from scraping the rail as he pressed harder against me. I could feel his ever-growing desire hidden in his ridiculous khaki pants. He looked like Jake from State Farm, and yet he still turned me on.
Looking up, I tried to warn,“You’re going to ruin the artwork. Rembrandt would roll over in his grave if we cracked the panel.”
He nuzzled my nose, his breath warm against my lips.“Did you know Rembrandt was buried in a rented grave?” he asked, giving me a playful peck.
I tilted my head back in exasperation, gazing at the ceiling as his kisses trailed down my neck. This is what he wanted to talk about right now?“Rented?” I asked.“Who rents a grave? How does that even work?”
He chuckled, his heated laughter sending shivers down my spine. His free hand slid from my wrist to my hip and then under my sweater. He cupped my breast, growling when he realized that—yet again—I wasn’t wearing a bra.“Betty,” he chided,“Seriously, how on earth do you manage this? I mean, don’t they just end up flopping around all day?”
I was panting, but I laughed.“Good genetics,” I breathed out between giggles.“And there is no flapping going on, either, geez.”
He pressed into me again.“Genetics I’m going to exploit if I get things my way,” he licked up my neck until his mouth found mine, tongue sweeping in, deepening our connection.
Damn, this man had a kink for breeding, didn’t he? That’s what it was called, right? Breeding kink? Sybil lent me a few of her romance books, one with a similar subject, and I can’t say I hated them. It felt weird in theory, but sexy as hell in practice. Good thing I wanted kids, and a lot of them.
And knowing all I did about his family? I could entirely understand his want to build one of his own and make up for what he lost. I saw the way he watched me with my brother and Sybil at the cabin, and I could tell he hungered for that sort of belonging. On top of that, he fit right in. I wasn’t sure how he’d be around a group of people after being alone for so long, but being social was seamless, and looked good on him.
Rocking against him, I had to remind myself we were in an elevator, on the way to get my dad. As much as I wanted to give in and attempt satiating his desire, I saw we were nearing the penthouse. I didn’t want the doors opening on a room full of—who knew what.
“Gray,” I removed my hands from the rail, pressing gently against his chest.“We’re almost there.”
He nipped at my jaw, grumbling but taking a step back.
My manicured nails trembled as I adjusted the collar of his museum staff shirt and the‘Craig’name tag.“I don’t think you should meet my dad sporting a boner, polyester, and the name Craig simultaneously.”
He chuckled, his gaze sweeping over my face and lips.“That lipstick is incredible.”
I grinned wide, batting my lashes and straightening my top.“Right? I bought a bunch to take back with us.”
“Take back?” he arched a brow in question while shifting himself in his khakis.“You want to go back to the cabin?” He then fiddled with his name tag with pride. What a dork, but undeniably sexy. I had to admit he had that dad-like shape—the kind eager to chase kids through the woods and crack terrible jokes. He was going to fit the role better than I had ever imagined.
“Maybe.” I gave him a wink, leaving the question mostly unanswered and open for interpretation.
The elevator slowed, chiming as it came to a complete stop. The doors opened into a well-appointed marble foyer. Purple flowers and eucalyptus sat in a vase on a central table, and opera music blared from the speakers. I heard voices, loud, boisterous voices, and they were... singing?
