I am a puppeteer as I drag his body out of the building. The cold air hits me, and it awakens Matthew. He spins around in a slow circle as he walks over to the curb.
“I can’t believe it—” he begins.
“Calm down. She could have just, maybe, fell down,” I suggest, watching him cautiously as he laughs like a maniac, hands waving all around. People look at him weirdly, but he either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care.
“Oh, she fell on something, all right!” he exclaims.
I blush and gasp a little. “Matthew,” I say slowly, shocked he said that. He’s never said anything crude like that before…it’s kind of hot. Mostly weird, though.
“I just can’t believe she’d do this to me. He has a wife, for goodness’ sake!” He rubs his face and walks around in blind circles. I make sure he doesn’t bump into anyone walking by. I walk him over to a line of cars, and he finally removes his hands from his face.
“Maybe it isn’t what we thought it was…” It was exactly what we thought it was, but I have to calm him down. Make him see sense. Garrett is his boss, meaning he can fire him if Matthew accuses him of having an affair with his assistant.
“No, no, no.” He shakes his head and puts his fists on his hips, looking around. He spots a Porsche and walks over to it. I chase him, tugging on his arm. “This is Garrett’s. He has everything he could possibly want. A loving, devoting wife, a fucking mansion, money for the rest of his life—why’d he have to take her too?” His voice cracks, and my heart aches for him.
“I’m so sorry, Matthew.” I grip his hand and step closer to him. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he and I were a couple and I was consoling him. But the picture is a lot uglier if you look closer. I am a friend consoling one of my best friends, because he’s experiencing a heartbreak he can’t do anything about…
“I just—I just want to…ugh.” He grunts, and his foot goes swinging and lands on Garrett’s shiny Porsche. Metal caving in on itself whips into the air, and we both gasp and freeze and look at what he did.
“Did I just…?” he whispers.
“Dent his car? Yes,” I breathe and swallow the panic rising in my throat. “Do not freak—”
He screams like a girl in a horror movie: high-pitched and squealing.
“Out,” I finish in a murmur.
“And what’s going on here?” a deep, familiar voice says behind us.
Matthew and I whirl around and come face to face with a smirking Garrett. He eyes us both with an amused expression, and I swear my heart drops to the soles of my feet. Silence ensues between us, all of us looking at each other, not saying anything. But what do you say in a situation like thi—
“She did it!” Matthew points a finger at me.
I gasp and snap my head at him. “Excuse me? You were the one who freaked out!” I point a finger at him.
Garrett chuckles deeply. “Calm down, it’s okay. We all have things that build up. You just gotta find a way to relieve it…” he says as he stares at Matthew with the cockiest smirk. I want to punch him in the mouth myself. He’s taunting him, subtly admitting what he and Delilah just did, probably have been doing for a long while. Who knows?
Matthew’s mouth stretches in a strained smile. “I think we should go, Liv. I have a lot of work I have to go back to. I’ll see you around,” he whispers to me.
“Wait, Matthew.”
He’s gone before I can say anything.
“Is everything all right with him?” Garrett asks as we watch Matthew storm back into the building.
I tear my eyes away and glare up at my boss. “Like you don’t know why he’s upset.”
He looks at me and chuckles, eyes narrowing slightly. “I don’t…” he lies.
“Right.” I begin to turn away from him, so disgusted he’d gloat, when he grabs my arm. “Do not touch me, Mr. Woolridge,” I warn. “Or I will be forced to get in touch with human resources…”
He stares me in the eyes, challenging. He chuckles as he slowly removes his hands, raising them up. “Didn’t mean to offend you, but…I’d like to invite you to a dinner tonight. All of my top colleagues will be there. It’s an annual thing.” He smiles like a snake, and I scoff.
“As if I’d—”
“I’d think twice before turning it down…I do hold your internship in my hands…” He pauses, then grins joyfully. “Shame you didn’t take that NY position. Looks like you’ll be staying here for a long while…goodbye.” He winks before waltzing back into the building.
Chapter Thirteen
When I got the internship the second time around, I thought it would be life-changing, because in theory, it would change mine because of how perfect it would make my resumé look. Before it, I felt lost, miserable, and like my life had fallen to pieces. At the time, Grey and I weren’t together, and I felt like I lost not only the love of my life, but also my career and future. But when I got it and secured my office and had Grey, I thought everything was looking up for me again.
That is until I found out my boss was a manipulative prick who cheated on his wife with his assistant. He is such a cliché. And a major asshole who doesn’t seem to feel guilty for cheating on his wife of fifteen years, according to Matthew. The poor woman. I wonder if she knows she’s being betrayed by her scum of a husband.
To make matters worse, he’s holding my internship over my head and manipulating me into going to this dinner party of his. He’s only inviting me so he can make sure I won’t tell his dirty secret. I want to shout about his infidelity from the rooftops, to the whole of New York, but I know he’d rip my internship out from under me, stain my reputation, and blackball me. He is a powerful man with powerful friends. He said so himself when he mentioned his even more powerful colleagues who will be at the dinner.
I always knew there was something off about him, but I never imagined he would be having an affair with the girl one of my best friends was head over heels for.
But he isn’t so over heels for her anymore, or, rather, loafers.
And I never imagined he would be so evil as to threaten my livelihood.
“Bastard,” I gripe through clenched teeth.
“Hmmm?” Grey’s head pops up behind a rack of sparkly clubbing dresses. He’s “helping” me pick out a dress for tonight since I don’t have many that will be appropriate for an intimidating night like tonight. All Grey’s doing to help is saying no to all of the dresses I suggest and pointing out ones I should wear just before he fucks me out of them. I flushed as red as the dress I’m holding right now when he said that. He’s such a goofball. But he’s my goofball.
I smile at him and shake my head dismissively. “I wasn’t talking about you.”
“But you called me by my middle name.” He walks around the rack and stands behind me. Wrapping his arms securely around me, he nuzzles his nose in my neck. “What’s wrong, babe? That time of the month already?”
I roll my eyes at his last comment. “No…maybe.”
He hums. “Figured.”
I whirl around and pinch his cheek; he grumbles and bites at my palm in protest. “It isn’t about that.”
“Then what’s it about?” He lifts an eyebrow.
I bite my lip. “I don’t want to go to the dinner party tonight.”
He squints an eye. “Then don’t go?” he says more like a question. “And I thought you would have loved to go and kiss ass and climb the ranks of reading people’s minds and shit.”
“I have to. He’s my boss,” I remind him. “And psychology isn’t about reading minds. It’s about understanding them.”
“Same shit.”
“Different shit,” I argue.
“Do you just feed off arguing with me?” he jokes, his functioning hand playing with the ends of my hair.
“Maybe,” I drawl lightly, looping my arms around his neck. I know we look like two star-gazing, doe-eyed kids who are disgustingly in love because, well, we are. We’re only googly eyed because we finally closed the gap that wedged i
tself between us when he was unhinged after his mother died.
He stopped taking harmful drugs and promised to tell me if something was bothering him. I’m curious if he’ll live up to his promise, but I put aside any doubts and trust that he will. He’s even gone as far as starting back on his medication.
I teared up when I found him sneaking one in when he thought I was asleep.
“Oh, don’t do that. I’m not even going to anymore,” he had said, rolling his eyes at my emotional outburst. He was beginning to put the medication bottle away, but I quickly shuffled into the bathroom and cupped his face.
“I’m sorry…I just didn’t expect this,” I’d assure him, apologizing for my tears.
“Well, I know how much you want me to be…‘okay’ or whatever.” He looked uncomfortable and shifted his eyes away from me.
“I’ll always want you to be healthy, babe. Forever and always,” I’d responded and begun to tear up again, but not because I was emotional…well, partially. But also, because he was admitting that he needed help. That’s all I ever wanted, wished for.
“Forever and always,” he’d murmured stubbornly.
I rewarded my strong, brave man by kissing him.
“Hello? Come back to earth, space cadet.” Grey snaps his fingers in the present.
I blink away the memory and look into his lively black eyes. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”
“About how much you love me?” he drawls, bouncing his eyebrows.
“Actually, yeah.” I nod.
“Oh.” He blushes bright red, and I take a mental picture for a scrapbook titled Adorable Grey Moments. I flip through the book about ten times a day, or when I’m feeling sad, or just want to look at the rare moments of Grey Wyler: formative bad-ass who fell for Olivia: former good girl who didn’t know how much the boy with the black eyes and even blacker soul could make her feel complete.
“Come with me.” I yank on his wrist.
“In the dressing room?” he whistles, grabbing my butt. “You are wild, Olivia Westerfield.”
“Not like that, nasty.” I stick my tongue out at him, and he bends down and kisses it. I giggle and feel red all over as I pull him into one of the unoccupied rooms with an armful of dresses. They are all pretty plain, boring, but I don’t want to be flashy in front of a room full of important men who would mistake me as one of their escorts and not an intern at a very elite psychology program.
“Yes, strip for me.” Grey claps and whistles really loudly, like a wolf howling in approval.
“Shut up.” I scramble over to him, covering his mouth with my hand. He flicks his tongue out, and I yank my hand away. He smirks. “Just…tell me which dress you like. Can you handle that?”
“I can handle a lot, princess.” His eyes scan my body as I take off my shirt after pulling my jeans down. Blushing, I roll my eyes and pick up the first dress. It’s a loose peach dress that has spaghetti straps. Simple, like I explained.
I slide the dress over my body, and it instantly rests on my curves. “What do you think?” I turn away from the wall of mirrors. His jaw is slightly ajar, eyebrows raised to the pink ceiling. He mindlessly rubs his stubble, shaking his head without saying a word.
“Speak, boy.” I fidget restlessly.
His eyes snap up to mine, and he shakes his head more firmly. “You’re not wearing that.”
“What? Why not? Don’t like the color?” I look down at the dress and run my hands against the sides. I look over my shoulder and do a little spin. It kind of clashes against my olive skin, but it could be cute if I wear flats and a little makeup, lip-gloss for sure. When I turn and face him, it’s clear he’s been staring at my butt.
“Grey,” I whine. I brought him in here, so he could comment on the dresses, tell me if he likes them or not.
“Huh?” He jars out of his, most likely, naughty thoughts. “Oh, yeah, fuck no.”
“But why, though?” I step toward him.
He holds a hand out and sits up. “If you take another step, I will have to fuck you.”
I blush at his words and nervously twist my sock-covered foot on the ground. “Why? Because of this dress?” I hold it up and stare at it in disbelief. There’s nothing special about it…
“Yes, because of this dress. For one, your tits look great, and so does this.” He grabs me by the butt and pulls me into his chest. He kisses up the space between my chest and stomach and blows into my skin through the thin fabric. I laugh until my cheeks are too big for my face, and he’s looking up at me with the utmost love. I straddle him and sit on his lap, threading my fingers through his hair.
“Are you ever not sexual?” I tease lightly, gently pulling at the end of his hair.
“Not when you’re wearing this…” he says, voice thick with lust as he snakes his hands up the dress.
“Not here, Grey,” I say despite the tingling between my legs. We could be in the middle of a feast with church people sitting around us, and I’d still jump his bones. And you couldn’t even blame me. It’s his fault for being so damn sexy and sensual and…perfectly naughty-minded. He could charm the panties off of me with one glance…like he’s doing right now.
“Why not?” he whispers hotly against my ear, hand disappearing into my lace panties.
“Fuck, I hate you sometimes,” I lie, pulling his white t-shirt up.
“Whatever you say, babe.” He winks at me, and my panties grow even wetter. He rubs me slowly, gently, milking my moans. I make him swallow them by smashing my lips on his. The kiss is greedy and wet and sloppy and heart-constricting. I want more, but we don’t have time for it here.
“There’s probably a line outside,” I warn him, pulling away yet yanking on his belt loop. I pull it off and undo his pants zipper. What am I doing?
“Then we don’t have time for the pleasantries, if you’re fine with that…?” He raises his eyebrows, hands slowing in their mission on my needy nub of pleasure.
“Totally fine with it.” I nod, desperately craving him, all of him.
“Good. Now, mind being a dear and putting this on for me?” He pulls a condom out of his back pocket, holding it toward me. When I raise a brow as I peel it open, he explains, “Kinda saw this happening. Not only am I incredibly sexy…but you were gonna try on dresses. It was bound to happen, babe.”
“So cocky,” I murmur, rolling the condom on him after he unzipped his pants, pulling out his marvelously large penis. I’m about to remind him that I’m on the pill but then realize we are about to have sex while on my period.
“And you’re about to ride my cock,” he whispers haughtily, about to pull my underwear down, when I remembered. I’m on my period. Oh crap, oh crap, oh—“Stop freaking out and take your pluggy thing out. There’s a garbage bin behind you. Wrap it up with the ridiculous amount of tissue you have in your purse and no one will know,” he instructs, reading my mind perfectly.
“But I’m still on my period. What if—” I begin.
“Take it out. We’ll be fine. Come on, please.” He nibbles on my earlobe, and I moan. Biting my lip, I think about the possible wait outside and my incredible need for him in me, me on him…oh, fuck it. I need him now.
“Okay.” I quickly get off him and do as he so brightly instructed. After tossing away the tampon, I straddle him, pulling the pretty dress I am definitely getting up to the top of my stomach so it doesn’t get messy…just in case. Oh, what the hell am I doing?
The moment he enters me, all of the doubt and what the hell’s and reluctance vaporizes into thin air. He fills every single inch of me, filling my senses until I am choking on them.
He and I both moan, as if relieved after forever of being thirsty for one another.
I roll my hips on him, savoring his kisses that run along my collarbone. His mouth attacks and nibbles and soaks my skin gently, possessively. He holds my feverish hips and guides them as they ride him. This should feel weird, but it doesn’t. I’ve heard it’s disgusting and taboo to have sex while on your pe
riod, but it’s better than ever. Literally. My heart is pumping, filled to capacity. My skin is crawling with tiny explosions, and the pleasure is mind-blowing, indescribable.
“Oh, fuck. Ride me just like that, princesa,” he says against my earlobe, sucking, niggling.
I grip the back of his neck, fingers traveling down under the top of his shirt, where his tattoo for me rests. “Like this, Grey?” I mumble, voice cracking, but my pace is strong as ever. I bounce up and down, gasping and moaning, unable to pull them underneath, down below where no one else in the store can hear. Even this, fucking in the store, is more than taboo. It’s despicable…and I kinda love it.
“Excuse me, are you almost done?” a lady asks sweetly, knocking on the door.
“Y-yes!” I reply, not knowing to whom I meant. I blush as Grey laughs, really helping me bounce up and down on him. I grind on him, just to shut him up. He bites his lip, fighting a groan and shooting daggers at me.
“Sorry, what was that?” the woman speaks.
“I-I said j-just a moment…fuck…please,” I call out, feeling the familiar sense of ultimate pleasure clamp around my skin, marking me.
“It’s just, I’ve been waiting a really long time, and—” the woman starts.
“Shut the fuck up, lady! We’ll be out in a sec!” Grey shouts, and I gasp, as does the lady.
“Jesus Christ, Grey!” I snap at him in a low voice.
“You heard the lady. We don’t have long.” He winks at me, completely devious and needy and…mine. I am in love with a mad man. Who would have seen this coming?
“Fuck, you’re bad,” I say in short, labored breaths, riding him faster. I squeeze and clench around him, pulling him to a climax, myself included.
“I’m your bad man.” He grazes his teeth along my neck, clamping around my chin. I moan, becoming flustered and greedy for more as he swirls his tongue, no doubt leaving me with evidence of his gorgeous mouth. His tongue leaves a wet trail all the way up to my mouth, where he overtakes my own with his tongue. Teeth clash against teeth, thrust to thrust—we’re one under the fluorescent light in a dressing room with an appalled woman banging on the door.
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