by Linda Verji
“Okay.” He carried the bike into the building and propped it against the wall. “Are you sure it will be safe out here?”
“Yeah, it’s safe.” Handing him their dinner, she dug into her purse to come up with a set of keys. She turned the keys in the lock then started to push the door open but paused. Throwing him a nervous look as if she was embarrassed, she stammered, “Um… could you… um… could you wait out here for a second?”
What? Was there something in the house that he wasn’t supposed to see? Or was it untidy? Holding back the smile that threatened to quirk his lips, he nodded. “Sure.”
Snow opened the door a bit and before he could glimpse the interior of the house, she ducked in. The door quickly closed behind her. Seconds later, the lights came on and he heard the shuffle of her footsteps as she moved around. He leaned against the wall, prepared to wait for several minutes as she tidied up. However, hardly a minute later, Snow threw the door open fully. The smile that lit her face was as relieved as it was bright as she waved him in. “Come in.”
“Finished hiding your underwear,” he teased.
Snow’s smile dropped like an anchor and she gasped, “Greyson!”
Chuckling, he pushed off the wall and brushed past her to enter the house. Her house was exactly as he expected – bright, colorful and bubbly – like her. Furniture in light blue, white and cream dominated the living room and was complimented by accessories in pastel shades of pink blue and green. Three of the walls carried nature-inspired paintings, but the wall directly behind her blue couch held a gallery of framed pictures that immediately attracted Greyson’s attention.
His eyes lingering on the gallery, he complimented, “Your place is beautiful.”
Obviously still suffering from residual embarrassment, Snow murmured, “Um… thanks. I’ll take this.” She took the food-bag from him. “Why don’t you have a seat while I warm this?”
“Sure.” Greyson started towards the blue couch but before he could sit, Snow grabbed his arm.
“No, not that one.” Chewing her bottom lip as if she was slightly nervous, she directed him to a cream-colored armchair. “That one. Sit on that one.”
“Oh… okay!” Greyson glanced at the blue couch curiously as he crossed the room. Was it broken or something?
Snow picked up a remote control from the coffee-table and turned the TV on before handing the controller to him. “I won’t be long.”
Her exit from the room gave him the perfect opportunity to take a closer look at the gallery of pictures on the wall behind the blue couch. It was immediately obvious that family and friends meant a lot to her. There were several pictures of her father, stepmother, little brother, Vina, April, friends he didn’t recognize; there was even one with Tellers’ members of staff that had obviously been taken when they’d gone for their annual employee camping trip. And of course there were several of her and Charlie. Greyson’s gaze promptly zeroed in on those.
Just by looking at the pictures he could tell that Charlie was the star in their relationship. In all their pictures, Snow was the one clinging to Charlie and looking up at him with soulful eyes. Meanwhile, Charlie was always grinning at the camera – looking away from her. Doubt assailed Greyson. Would he be able to pull her away from Charlie when she seemed so in love with the man?
“Hey.” Snow cut into his troubled thoughts. He turned to find her standing at the door. “Would you like something to drink?”
Strolling back to his seat, he asked, “What do you have?”
“Fresh juice and… I think I’ve got beer somewhere.”
Since he was driving, the choice was easy. “Fresh juice.”
“Cool.” She disappeared again to reemerge with a glass of juice. With a smile, she set the juice on a coaster on the coffee-table. “Here you go.”
“Thank you.”
“The food’s in the microwave. I just need to drop off the bike then we can eat. I’ll be back in a minute.”
A moment later, the front door closed behind her. As promised, she didn’t stay out too long. Hardly ten minutes later, she walked back into the apartment with a smile. If Greyson didn’t already know that he was attracted to her, the fluttering that started in his belly because of that smile would’ve made it more than clear.
“Elsie liked it?” he asked.
“Elsie liked it very much.” Snow nodded. “Thanks for helping me pick it out.”
“Any time.” He added, “If you need any more help, now you know where to come.”
She chuckled. “Thanks for the offer but I doubt I’ll be picking out any more bikes.”
He wanted to tell her that he meant that his talents went beyond selecting bikes. That if she needed his help doing anything else, he was very, very available. But that would’ve sounded desperate… and a little creepy. So he settled for, “You never know.”
Snow left the living room for the kitchen only to reemerge several minutes later with a tray carrying their food. She set the food on the coffee-table before popping the lid on Greyson’s pasta-salad for him. “There you are.”
“Thanks.” He scooted forward to pop the lid on the side of marinated mushrooms that came with the salad.
“You’re welcome.” She started to sit on the blue couch but paused to shoot it contemplative look before making a face and shaking her head. Moments later, she settled on the carpeted floor beside the coffee-table.
This time Greyson couldn’t keep his curiosity at bay. “Is something wrong with the couch?”
“Let’s just say that it’s been scarred for life.” She shook out a packet of fries onto a plate for herself. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply. “Mm, that smells sooo good.”
He tutted. “I still can’t believe you ordered fries and a burger.”
“I can’t believe you ordered the pasta-salad,” Snow countered as she unwrapped her burger. “We eat fancy food at the restaurant all the time. Don’t you ever need a break from it?”
“A break from quality food for that fatty mess on your plate?” Greyson cringed as he eyed her food. “I don’t think so.”
“Psh! Admit it, you’re drooling for some of it.” She picked a couple of fries with her fork and waved them at him. “Want some?”
He made a face. “No way.”
She laughed. “You’re such a food snob.”
It was interesting how her face lit up every time she laughed and how her dimples winked with her delight. A man could drown in her laugh – Greyson was certainly falling into it. Wanting to get closer to her, he asked, “Mind if you join you down there?”
“Hey, my floor is your floor,” she said flippantly before sticking a fry into her mouth.
He slid off the armchair to join her on the carpeted floor. Immediately, her soft, feminine, tangerine-tinged scent teased his senses and brought them alive. His whole body instantly recognized that she was now close enough that if he reached out a hand he could touch her face or other parts of her. His muscles tightened at that knowledge, as did other parts of his body.
Snow, on the other hand, seemed unaffected by their closeness. “Are you sure you don’t want some fries? Or maybe my burger?”
Greyson swallowed hard before saying, “No, I’m good.”
He expected the meal to descend into a nervous silence because they’d never eaten together without other people being present, but Snow surprised him by bursting into laughter. Though he didn’t know why she was laughing, he found himself smiling in response. “What?”
Her eyes dancing with mirth as she said, “I just remembered my first day in your kitchen.”
Oh, he remembered that day. He chuckled. “You burnt almost everything you touched.”
“That’s because I was nervous.”
“Nervous about what?” He dipped his fork into his salad. “You were the top student in your class. Obviously, you knew you were a good cook.”
“I was nervous because of you.” She jabbed her finger in his direction.
“Me?
What did I do?”
“You have no idea how frightening you can be.” Snow shot him an amused look. “Every time you stopped at my station I expected you to yell ‘you’re fired’. I was trembling so much I’m surprised I finished service.”
“I’m not that scary!” Greyson knew he was a bit ‘intense’ when in the kitchen but he didn’t think he was that bad. The last thing he wanted was for Snow to be afraid of him.
“Yes, you are.” Her easy smile said she wasn’t that scared of him. “In fact, I’m kind of weirded out right now.”
“Weirded out in a good way or a bad way?”
“Mm…” She cocked her head and studied him before smiling. “In a good way. It’s nice to discover this other normal side of you.”
“What can I say? I’m a man of many sides.” He shrugged even as his eyes remained glued to her. Who knew eating could be so sexy? The way she picked one fry at a time and bit into it, the way she licked her soft inviting lips afterwards. Greyson lifted and bent his leg before propping his arm on his knee to hide the effect her eating was having on him. He cleared his throat before asking, “Which do you prefer?”
Her eyebrows rose in question. “Hmm?”
“Which side do you prefer?” he asked. “Scary Chef or Normal Greyson?”
Her answer came quickly. “Both of them. I like that you’re so commanding and skilled in the kitchen, but I also like that you can let loose when you’re out of it. I think you’re fascinating.”
It would’ve been a lie to say that his ego didn’t swell at her answer – or that the other parts of him that were already swollen didn’t rise. His whole body tensed when she picked another fry and bit into it. His chest tightened as his gaze focused on her mouth, on her lips…
Back away, Greyson. His brain tried to reel him in. Going this fast isn’t a good idea. You should establish a friendly rapport before you let her know that you want something more.
Unfortunately, his body and base instincts had only one thought… what did she taste like? That thought over shadowed all his common sense. It didn’t matter that it was too soon or that she’d just broken up with another man earlier today. He had to taste her.
His movements almost unconscious, he grabbed her wrist before she could pick another fry. He saw the way her eyes widened, the way her lips parted in a shock, the way her breath quickened when he dragged her toward him, yet he couldn’t stop himself. Staring at her dark eyes, he leaned forward to meet her.
She started, “Greyson, what ar-”
He ground his lips to hers and swallowed the rest of that sentence. It was obvious he’d caught her by surprise by the way she stiffened in his arms and stared at him in wide-eyed shock. If he was a better man, he would’ve pulled back then. But only one thought kept circling his senses… taste her.
So he did. He licked across her mouth tasting salt, then took her bottom lip between his lips and suckled. Ah! She tasted just as good as he expected. Salt and sweetness mingled together in a heady mix that almost stopped his heart. He wanted more… oh, how he wanted more. But her lips were still beneath his and he didn’t want to force her into kissing him. So he pulled back – far enough that their lips weren’t quite touching but close enough that he could feel her breath on his lips.
They stared at each other. Greyson couldn’t tell how long that stare lasted because it felt like a lifetime yet too short of a time. The look in her eyes was unreadable, contemplative… leaving him wondering what she was thinking. Did she want to slap him? Did she want to shove him away? If she’d done any of those things, he would’ve pulled back. But she didn’t. Snow’s eyes lowered to his lips then she moved forward. Her eyes drifted shut as their lips connected again.
Then it was too late for either of them.
Greyson pressed his tongue between her lips. Snow welcomed him eagerly, her tongue meeting his with a sensuous slide. This was no one-sided kiss. He gave. She took. She gave. He took. Their mouths melded and mated in a dance as old as time. Devouring her hungrily, he pressed her hand to his chest just above his thumping heart. In turn, she cupped his nape with her free hand and stroked the sensitive skin there. Her touch was his breaking-point . With no conscious thought other than that they needed to be closer, he lowered his hand to her waist and pulled her into his arms.
Snow came to him willingly. She rose to her knees and closed her arms around his neck as she teased his lips with hers. The coffee-table groaned as he pushed it away so he had more space to turn and face her. Smoothing his hands over her hips, Greyson urged her to move closer into the v of his thighs. She followed his silent order – then did more. One moment she was kneeling between his legs, kissing him, and the next she was straddling him and lowering herself to his lap.
His breath caught in his throat and every ounce of blood in his body screeched to a shocked halt when he felt her weight settle on his groin. And for a second- just a second- he stopped kissing her. But Snow pulled him back in; she cupped his face and thrust her tongue into his mouth then kissed him so deeply, so hungrily that he had no choice but to respond in kind. Growling low in his throat, he closed his arms in a tight band around her back before slanting his mouth harder against her.
And that’s when the kiss turned fiery.
* * * * *
I SHOULDN’T BE doing this. This is a mistake. The words echoed in Snow’s thoughts. But compared to the desire pounding incessantly through her, those words were nothing but a whisper. If ever there was an award for greatest kisser, Greyson would take it hands down. Ah, the man could kiss. His kiss burnt up every bit of common sense she had, eviscerated her inhibitions and consumed her very being. One kiss moved into another, then another, weaving a spell of desire around her until she was so caught up in it that all she could think of was getting more, more, more.
Stroking her tongue with his, he settled her more firmly into his lap. The motion kindled a delicious throbbing ache between her thighs, a fierce need. Without conscious thought, she began moving her hips and shifting on his lap in search of relief, but couldn’t find it. There were too many clothes between them. Was it possible to hate fabric? Because right now Snow was sure that she despised denim with all her heart. If it wasn’t for the jeans both of them were wearing she would’ve been feeling more than just his powerful thighs and his heat.
Greyson seemed just as unsatisfied with the inadequate body contact. One of his hands slid to her back to drag her chest to his while the other eased down the small of her back and beneath the waist of her jeans to brush over her ass. The feel of his hard chest cushioning her swollen breasts sent fresh desire pulsing through Snow and she whimpered. He swallowed that whimper with a kiss so long and deep that she felt it at her core, then he inspired another whimper by gently pulling on her lower lip. Desperate for something more, she moved her hand from his shoulder and slid it between their bodies, down his chest, his flat stomach, to his belt…
Greyson grabbed her hand before she could reach her target. His fingers squeezing hers tightly, he abruptly stopped their kiss. Immediate protest surged through her. She didn’t want him to stop. She didn’t want this to stop. Snow leaned forward to taste him again, but he cupped her face with both his hands halting her movement.
Somewhat dazed, she opened her eyes and met his gaze to find him watching her with unshielded and wild desire. His breathing was as erratic as hers and it looked like he was barely holding on to his self control as he murmured, “We have to stop.”
No, she screamed on the inside even as she stared at him wordlessly.
He pressed his forehead to hers as he watched her for a long drawn out moment before whispering, “Not today.”
Yes today, she wanted to scream but her suddenly parched throat wouldn’t let the words emerge. She didn’t protest when he cupped the back of her head and guided her face to his shoulder. Taking deep gulping breaths, she tried to slow her racing heart down. It turned out to be a harder task than expected because with each breath she took came an en
ticing hint of his spicy, masculine scent that kept her senses dancing with desire. The hand he smoothed over her back and arm repeatedly was supposedly meant to soothe her but all it did was show her how good it felt to have his hands roaming over her body. Even so, her pulse eventually slowed as did her breathing.
And in came common sense.
What the hell had she just done? Her body stiffened against his as the realization of what had just happened between them sunk in. First came shock because she’d never thought that she and Greyson would ever be in this kind of position. For crying out loud, he was Greyson – her boss, the guy who seemed so off-limits she’d never even dared to have an erotic dream about him. Next came embarrassment. Sure, Greyson had started it but she’d jumped into that kiss like a starving woman. The way she’d come in for more, the way she’d climbed into his lap, the way she’d tried to get more even after he’d stopped their kiss. Oh my God!
That embarrassment was swiftly followed by guilt. She and Charlie were barely broken up and here she was kissing another man. During the twelve years she and Charlie had been together, she’d never strayed even when they were broken up. It wasn’t that other men hadn’t pursued her – she’d just never been interested in anyone but Charlie. He was her first and only, and kissing anyone else felt like a betrayal.
That guilt was enough to jolt her out of Greyson’s arms. She pushed off his lap and scrambled a safe distance away from him before standing on shaky limbs.
“Um… I… Greyson…” She knew what she was supposed to say. That this was a mistake, that he should leave. But her traitorous lips and body refused to release those words and instead they insisted on embarrassing her further with stammers of, “I… uh… you-”
“I should leave.” Greyson cut her off, saying what she couldn’t, and stood up. The husky rasp in his voice stroked her nerve endings, reminding her that she’d aroused him almost as much as he’d aroused her. When he took a step towards her, Snow quickly retreated. A muscle in his jaw flexed but all he said was. “Thank you for dinner.”