Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 133321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 667(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 667(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Heat radiates up my arm from where he touches me and I know if I look at him, I’ll forget why that kiss was bad when it felt so damn good. For several seconds we just stand there, rain and history suffocating us until he reaches up and brushes my cheek. The touch shocks me, and I shiver, my gaze jerking to his. “Let’s sit down by the fire,” he says softly.
“I’d like that.”
He seems to hesitate to release my hand, but it slowly slides away and neither of us move. The wind gusts and that’s enough to set us in motion. I walk around the chairs and sit down in front of the fire, sipping from the glass. “That’s strong,” I say as he sits down next to me and I place the glass on the table between us. “Maybe you need to drink mine. Eric and Davis aren’t going to be an easy audience for me.” I lean forward and hold my hands toward the fire, my elbows on my knees.
Grayson leans forward with me, only he ignores the fire. “They’ve both always liked you, Mia. You know that.”
“They’re your friends, your very good friends. They’ll protect you, which is good. That’s why I came. So you can throw up the armor.”
“I thought I had,” he says. “And then you showed up at my door.” Grayson’s cellphone buzzes with a text, and he pulls it from his pocket, glancing at the screen. “Eric,” he says. “They’re almost here.” He sticks his cell back into his pocket, downs his drink, and stands up. “Let’s meet them upstairs.”
I nod and decide I do need that drink. I pick it up and take a big slug before setting it down. I stand up and turn to walk toward the door but Grayson steps in front of me. “Don’t even think about leaving while they’re here. I’ll come after you, and this time I won’t stop coming.” He pulls me to him, his long legs pressed to mine. “We’re not done, Mia. Not now. Not tonight. Not ever. We’re done pretending otherwise.” He kisses me, a brush of lips over lips that I feel in every part of me before he rotates us and turns me to the door, his hands on my shoulders, my back to his front as he leans in and whispers, “But be warned. I’m not going to stop the next time I kiss you.”
Chapter five
Mia
Grayson’s warning twists me in knots and ultimately anger takes root. I whirl around to face him. “You don’t get to say what we do or don’t do. You don’t get to decide if we kiss or not. You don’t get to decide if we start or stop. You’re not in control anymore.”
“I was never in control,” he says, his voice tight with returned anger. “Not with you.”
“Are you kidding me? You controlled everything in the past. I was making my first real career move and your father—you, basically—owned the company. You had money and power and I came from nothing. You were this force of nature I wanted to be near. I wanted to learn from you. I wanted to be with you. You consumed me. I—this is not then. You’re not in control this time.”
His hands come down on my arms and he pulls me to him. “It sure as hell didn’t feel like I was in control when you left, and I bled out both times, Mia. Both fucking times.”
Both times.
He means after the funeral, which is just another knife in my chest.
“Look at us,” I say. “This is who we are, Grayson. Pain and anger. Why would you want to keep me here?”
The doorbell rings and he curses, but he doesn’t let me go. “Because the pain and anger are about a betrayal that never fucking happened.” He tangles his fingers in my hair. “We have never fought this out honestly and completely.” His mouth closes down on mine, his tongue stroking deep, and every part of me inside and out, melts into him, into us, when I don’t mean to. The doorbell rings again and he tears his mouth from mine. “We’re still us. We’re still us.”
“I don’t know what that means anymore.”
“You will,” he promises, his hands coming down on my arms once more. “Mia—”
The doorbell rings again and he grimaces. “Damn it. They aren’t going away. I have to let them in.”
“You do,” I say. “We need to talk with them about Ri.”
“Ri,” he repeats tightly. “Yes. Let’s talk about Ri.” He releases me, a cold snap in the air as he motions me forward.
I don’t like this reaction. I don’t like what he thinks is between Ri and I, but I decide maybe it works right now, especially where Ri is concerned. He needs to find that hard, cold part of himself and find it now. He needs to focus on the war before him, not on me, not on us. With that thought, I launch myself across the room, hurrying up the stairs, and I half expect his hand on mine at any moment, but it doesn’t happen. I’ve hit a nerve in him and some part of me revels in the fact that he has nerves to be hit. If he didn’t care about me, he wouldn’t, but I don’t know why it matters. I don’t want to do love his way.