A stripped-down Grey Stone was even better than him in his fancy work duds. She soaked up the image of him—hisbroad shoulders, his stunningly beautiful back, olive skin glowing in the light, but it was his muscular ass and massive thighs that had her biting back a moan. She wanted to rip off her blindfold, run to him, and climb him like a tree.
BAM! BAM! BAM!
Someone rapped on the door and she startled. Grey strode out of the bathroom, cracked open the door to their suite.
“Why don’t you answer your phone?” asked the man on the other side.
That’s Tank from the restaurant.
Caroline tipped up the blindfold to get a better look, but Grey’s massive body blocked her view.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Grey whispered, the bite in his voice front and center.
“We gotta go.”
Rather than lie there, Caroline pushed out of bed and pulled on her bra.
“I can’t,” Grey pushed back.
“Jet’s gassed up and ready.”
“What?”
Caroline tugged up her panties.
“I’ll explain on the way.”
“Fuck. Two minutes.” Grey shut the door.
Caroline lowered her blindfold. “Looks like you’re out.”
He tipped her chin toward him, dropped a panty-searing kiss on her lips, then kissed each of her cheeks. When he let her go, she turned away, adjusted the blindfold so he could find her sweater.
She wasn’t sure what to say, so she said nothing, and they dressed in an awkward silence. On went his pants, up went the zipper.
After she pulled on her sweater, he clasped her hand and kissed it. Then, he pulled her close, pressed his mouth to her ear and whispered, “I’m sorry.”
He let her go, a chill filling the space where he’d once been. The door opened, then shut. He was gone.
Damn.
She tore off the blindfold, went into the bathroom. A few minutes later, she emerged. She pulled her phone out to check the time. It was after twelve-thirty.
They’d been going at it longer than she thought.
Clearly there was more going on with Grey than he’d let on.I got laid. It was fun. Grey delivered, and isn’t that what I was looking for on my birthday?
With her phone in hand, she left the suite, made her way back downstairs. The first floor was packed, the dance floor flooded with costumed people. Unsure if Sydney was still there, she texted her.
Are you still at the club?
When no dots appeared, she pushed up on her toes, but even in her stilettos, she wasn’t tall enough to spot her sister in the crowd. After walking around, and coming up short, she went the bar. Addison wasn’t working, so she squeezed in, ordered a glass of sparkling water.
As she stood there sipping it, she glanced around.
“You can share the seat with me,” said a woman next to her.
“I’m okay.”
