Page 60 of Graciously His

“Can I show you something? It’ll only take a minute.”

She’s playing me like a fucking instrument. Like a little bitch, at her beck and call. And that’s what I am. I’m hers. So I turn off the shower and I follow her past the bench press and weights, back to my office. An unmarked manila folder sits on my closed laptop.

“Eileen put her findings together,” Grace says. “She’s made a timeline with medical annotations, and she said this would probably be useful if ever we were asked to provide—” she pauses for a shaky breath, “to provide a court with discovery.”

I stare at the folder which, if Grace is right, contains proof positive of Constance Reid’s crimes. The evidence procured by my PI could easily be discounted in court. But an official medical deduction? Game-changer.

“So what,” I say, “you want to dangle it in front of me to negotiate for something?”

“No,” Grace says, her voice edged with impatience, “I want you to put it away in whatever safe spot you have for documents. If I look at it for one more second I’ll set it all on fucking fire.”

“Watch your mouth.” I reach for the folder, tension bleeding from my body as I realise the truth. She’s giving this to me. Proof that I’ve been right. I examine her anew. “Keep talking like that and I’ll have to correct you.”

She takes in a quick breath, probably to start a fresh tirade, but I give her one hard look and she goes quiet.

Adorable.

I skim the papers, then snap the folder shut.

“I’ll send copies to my lawyers.” My voice is cold. Clinical. “And I’ll keep it in the safe, if that’s what you want.”

“Yes, please.” She bites her lip, looking from the file to my eyes. “So—are we good?”

I scoff. “Good what?”

“Are you still upset with me for making you leave?”

I set the folder aside and consider Grace, taking in her guarded expression. “Are you offering to make it up to me?”

“I, um…” her cheeks go red, “I could, I guess.”

This version of Grace, I can handle properly. My shrinking, shy girl who needs to be taken care of.

“You want to make sure I’m not upset with you, is that right?”

She nods, then falls back a step as I close in. I’m shirtless and a bit sweaty, and it crosses my mind that Grace could have let me clean off and cool down, but she chose to escalate—even when I obviously needed some space. I hold her eyes as I reach to the side, putting my laptop safely on the chair.

“And how does a gracious girl like you make up for something like this?”

“Nate, I told you, I made a mistake and—”

“I’ll stop you right there. Because after admitting your error, you said something I find… problematic.” Her lashes flutter when I put my hands on her, one on each hip. “You told me I had to wait for an invitation to support you. You said that’s how relationships work.”

I lift her up, perching her on the edge of the desk. She’s startled and shaking, and I know everything I’m about to do is right.

“That’s not how things will work here,” I continue. “My place is to support you at every step and,” I part her thighs to step between her legs, “if you resist, then it’s my job to correct you. And you need a correction right now, don’t you?”

She’s holding her breath, lower lip caught between her teeth. I lean in, catching it in my teeth, biting it until she gasps. Her hands push against my chest, but there’s no way I’m letting go. She realises it quickly enough, loosening up until her top lip rests over mine, her breaths coming fast and harsh. I pull back to check in with her. She’s staring at my shoulders, chest heaving.

And I realise: Grace is turned on beyond what I’ve seen before. Whether it was our fight, the sorrow from the doctor’s appointment, or something else, she’s running hot. And I’m going to take full advantage.

I press closer, grabbing her ass to bring her right to the edge of the desk.

“You want to make it up to me?” I fasten my mouth to the spot just below her ear, sucking until she’s moaning in delicious protest.

“Yes,” she whispers.

“You’re going to take me inside you.” I nip at the hickey I’ve left on her neck. “Right now.”