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The Naked Truth

Page 12

by Vi Keeland


  “Is wrapping you in my arms and hugging the shit out of you right now too fast?”

  She giggled. “A hug is fine.”

  I pulled Layla into a tight embrace and buried my face in her hair. She smelled so fucking good. “You have no idea how happy you just made me.”

  “Ummm… If the thing poking me in the hip is any indication, I think I do know how happy you are.”

  We laughed, and while I hated to let her go, I tried to be good. I didn’t even attempt to suck her face, though that was only the tip of the iceberg of what I wanted to suck. Although she did have to tug her hand from mine when it was time to walk away. I couldn’t get myself to let go voluntarily.

  Chapter 16

  * * *

  Layla

  “Are we actually in the building on the same day?” Oliver walked into my office on Wednesday morning with his usual sunny smile.

  On Monday he’d been in court all day, and on Tuesday I was out with a client in New Jersey until evening. We’d exchanged a few texts, and I’d told him I couldn’t have dinner on Wednesday night, but suggested we have lunch instead. It was definitely easier to break things off over a quick lunch than a longer dinner, and I wasn’t going to spend time with Gray until I ended things with Oliver. Even though Oliver and I had never talked about being exclusive, it just didn’t sit right with me.

  My phone buzzed on my desk, and I was glad it faced down. Gray had been texting me this morning, and I didn’t want to show Oliver any disrespect. He was a great guy—a part of me wished I wanted to be with him instead of Gray—but the heart knows even if the brain hasn’t caught up yet.

  “I’m surprised I made it to work today.” I closed the file cabinet I’d been digging in. “Mr. Kwan talked my ear off until eight o’clock last night.”

  Oliver and I had few crossover clients, and Kwan Enterprises used legal services from almost every department at our firm.

  “Did he bring Jin Me or Song?” Oliver asked.

  “Jin Me. Who’s Song?”

  He smirked. “His wife.”

  “Oh my God! He’s married? I had no idea. I thought Jin Me was his daughter at first. She’s, like, thirty, and he’s probably in his late sixties. So it creeped me out when she put her hand on his thigh.”

  “Yep. Guy’s a stud. He’s been a client of mine almost as long as I’ve been practicing. There’ve been a dozen Jin Me.”

  “God, I never would’ve taken him for a cheater for some reason.”

  “It’s always the ones you least expect.” I knew Oliver wasn’t referring to me, but I felt guilty nonetheless for having spent time with Gray.

  “Umm... Yeah. I have to jump on a call. Lunch at one?”

  “Greek?”

  “Sure.” I forced a smile. “That sounds great.”

  After Oliver disappeared, I sat and stared out my window for a while. I knew ending things with him was the right thing to do, whether things worked out with Gray or not. Because had my heart been with Oliver, it wouldn’t have strayed so easily. But it was never easy to break up with a nice person.

  My phone buzzed on my desk, calling my attention back from thinking about my upcoming lunch. Of course it was Gray. As was the earlier text that I hadn’t looked at when Oliver walked in.

  Gray: I’m flying to Chicago tonight for a meeting early tomorrow with a potential tech investment.

  Gray: How about lunch today?

  I texted back.

  Layla: Sorry. Can’t today. I have a lunch date.

  After I wrote the text, I rethought my words and amended before hitting send.

  Layla: Sorry. Can’t today. I have plans for lunch.

  Gray: Can you reschedule? I’ll make it worth your while. Friend of mine is opening a French restaurant Uptown and hosting a critics’ lunch—every entree in miniature size—a taste of the entire menu.

  I debated what to tell him for a few minutes and decided to go with the truth.

  Layla: I’m having lunch with Oliver today.

  Archibald Pittman walked into my office and interrupted the rest of what I was about to text. His visits always made me nervous.

  “Ms. Hutton. Just reviewed the billable hours. Nice job bringing our new client into the fold and pushing our other specialty work.”

  I had no idea what the hell he was talking about. “Uh. Thank you.”

  “Keep up the good work.” He disappeared.

  Still unsure of what he had been referring to, I texted Gray.

  Layla: Did you happen to give any other legal work to the firm, outside of my department?

  Gray: I don’t share, Layla.

  Hmmm. That was an odd answer.

  Layla: I’m not sure I understand.

  I waited for his text response, but instead the cell rang in my hand.

  “I know you said we need to take it slow, but I can’t fucking share, Freckles.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Your lunch date.”

  “Oh!” I laughed. “Sorry, I was lost in our conversation. I mentioned my lunch with Oliver and then Pittman interrupted and mentioned something about a client giving the firm more business. I thought that might be you. It must’ve been someone else I work with.”

  “I did give the firm more business. They’re handling the probate of my father’s will and a real estate transaction I need done. I called Pittman and told him you’d sold me on bringing that work to your firm instead of leaving it with my father’s attorney.”

  “Oh. Wow. You didn’t have to do that. But thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Now can you do me a favor in return?”

  “Sure. What?”

  “Don’t go to lunch with Pencil Dick. I can wait eleven months to see you. I can hold myself back from mauling you when you’re in my apartment. I can go as slow as you want. But I can’t fucking take the thought of you with another man.”

  As much as I hated to admit it, his possessiveness and jealousy were a turn-on in this situation—although I couldn’t help but screw with him a bit.

  “But I broke it off with Jared already.”

  “Who?”

  I had to cover my mouth to stop my giggle. “Jared. And I was planning on letting go of Trent, too. Although I thought maybe I’d sleep with him at least one more time before breaking it off.”

  “You’re fucking with me? Please tell me you’re fucking with me.”

  I let him hear my laugh this time. “I’m having lunch with Oliver to end things. I was planning on telling you that, but then Pittman interrupted, and I forgot to mention that part.”

  Gray blew out a loud breath. “You think you’re funny, don’t you?”

  “Yes. As a matter of fact, I am rather amused right now.” I leaned back into my chair.

  “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. But that deserves a smack on the ass, and I’ll enjoy the repay next time I see you.”

  “I might enjoy that, too.”

  Gray groaned. “Christ.” Then I heard him cover the phone. “Can you circle the block once or twice, please?”

  I heard the faint sounds of what must’ve been a driver saying, “Sure thing, sir,” before Gray returned to the line.

  “I’m going to be late for my appointment at the bank because of you now.”

  “Me? What did I do?”

  “You just told me you might enjoy me spanking you, and now I can’t think of anything but the way your ass will look with my handprint on it. I can’t walk in there with a swollen cock.”

  I shifted in my seat. “Oh.”

  “Have an early dinner with me? I can’t wait to see you after you’re officially mine.”

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself. I said I was breaking things off with Oliver. I didn’t say I was officially anyone’s.”

  He ignored me. “Five o’clock dinner. I’ll push my seven flight back to nine.”

  “I can’t. I have a client at four, and need to prep for a case for tomorrow. When are you back from your trip?”r />
  “Late tomorrow night. Friday then?”

  “I have a kiddie birthday party Friday night. Saturday?”

  “An event with my father’s old partner. Sunday night?”

  “I have an early deposition Monday that I’ll need to prep for.”

  “Jesus Christ. And I fly out to the west coast on Monday morning. I can’t wait two weeks to kiss you.”

  I smiled. “You could always come with me to the kiddie party. It’s for my goddaughter.”

  “Will there be a quiet corner or a closet to push you in for a few minutes and kiss the shit out of you?”

  I laughed. “I can’t guarantee one. But there might.”

  “Fine. What time should I pick you up?”

  “You’re really going to come to a kiddie party with me?”

  “Are you inviting me?”

  “Sure, if you want. I’m sure Quinn would love to meet you. It’s my best friend’s daughter’s party.” I paused. “But full disclosure, I’m not sure she’s your biggest fan. We sort of share everything, and she’ll probably give you the evil eye and interrogate the crap out of you.”

  “Still worth it, just for the chance at getting you alone for a few minutes. Plus, I’m going to have to win over your friend sooner or later.”

  I loved that he was willing to work with anything I might give him. “I’ll tell you what—we’ll make it interesting. If you can get my goddaughter to give you a hug goodbye, and her mom to give you the thumbs up, I’ll let you feel me up in the car on the way home.”

  Of course, he had no idea that my goddaughter pretty much hated men in general, and Quinn had considered visiting him in prison to chop his balls off at one point. But what fun would it be to fill him in on that?

  “Sweetheart, you have no idea the lengths I would go to in order to win that bet.”

  “Six o’clock Friday.”

  “Can’t wait.”

  ***

  The sound of my buzzer made me jump. I couldn’t remember a time when I’d been this nervous for a date—if that was what you’d even call taking Gray with me to a kiddie birthday party at six o’clock on a Friday night. I pressed the intercom.

  “You’re a half hour early. Why do I think you did that on purpose so I wouldn’t be ready, and I’d have to tell you to come up rather than coming down?”

  “Because you’re smart.” His gruff voice and honesty made me laugh.

  “Come on up.”

  I waited at the door for the elevator. I’d come home a little early to shower and get ready, but I still needed another fifteen minutes or so to do my makeup. Gray stepped off the elevator and strutted toward me. He walked with confidence and purpose—which was a turn-on for me. Something about the way a man stands and walks has always spoken volumes in my mind. It could be small—standing in the open-legged, feet-apart position that’s a little wider than his shoulders, or the way he keeps his head up and looks straight head.

  Gray ate up the distance to my door with his long, balanced strides. Even though it unnerved me, I stood my ground firm when he didn’t look like he was going to stop.

  He got right into my personal space and wrapped one hand around my waist. “I looked up the definition of slow on the way over here.”

  I perked one brow. “You did? What did you learn?”

  “Moving or proceeding with less-than-usual speed or velocity.”

  “Very good. You’ve learned the definition of slow. How about pulchritude? I memorized that one for the SAT years ago.”

  Gray used the hand wrapped around my waist to press our bodies tighter. “Wise ass. I meant…slow doesn’t mean stop. It means keep progressing forward, just at a slower pace.”

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  I swear I saw a twinkle in his eye as a sly grin spread across his face. “Glad we’re in agreement. Now give me that mouth so we can keep progressing forward.”

  I opened my mouth to respond, but his lips crashed down on mine before any words came out. I’d forgotten how soft his were, and how much they directly contradicted the hard need of his kiss. Gray wasted no time, his tongue dipping inside to taste me. I moaned into our joined mouths, and he responded with a growl that vibrated down to some interesting places.

  Gray backed me against my apartment door, and then suddenly my legs were wrapping around his waist. I wasn’t sure if he’d lifted me and guided my actions or if I’d done it all on my own. The crazy speed of my heart thumping made everything so much more fevered. My fingers threaded through his hair, yanking him closer. Gray ground his hips against me, and my eyes rolled into the back of my head. He was so hard, and my open legs left me exposed to the abrasive friction. So decadently exposed.

  I moaned into our mouths again, and Gray pushed even harder. He fisted a handful of the flesh on my ass and squeezed to the point of pain. But that little bit of pain only served to turn me on even more. I was absolutely screwed when it came to going slow with this man. Because in that moment, if he’d unzipped and pushed my panties to the side, I’d have let him fuck me right against my apartment door for all the neighbors to see.

  Luckily, although he was pretty damn good at reading me, he couldn’t read my mind. So when he broke the kiss, I was breathless and panting, but at least I was still clothed.

  I kept my eyes closed as I attempted to rein myself in, battling through my raging hormones to get back to some semblance of self-control. So I didn’t expect the loud smack of Gray’s hand connecting with my ass. My eyes flashed open.

  “What the hell?”

  “I owed you that for the other day on the phone—screwing with me about your lunch with Oliver and seeing other men.” Gray rubbed the sting on my ass away with his hand.

  There was no way in hell I was about to tell him my panties had just gotten a little wetter. Instead I took the moment to disengage from contact, because I didn’t trust myself to honor my own request to go slow.

  I swallowed and climbed down off of him. “I should leave you out in the hall while I finish getting ready after that.”

  “If that’s what you need to do to keep control of yourself, by all means.” He cupped the back of my neck and brushed his lips with mine. “But don’t forget to change your wet panties.”

  I shook my head and didn’t slam the door on him as I walked inside. “So full of yourself.”

  I heard him chuckle as I left him in the kitchen to go finish getting ready.

  Gray didn’t try to come into my bedroom during the twenty minutes it took me to do my makeup and get changed, which surprised me a little. But I got the feeling he would tow the line on going slow, yet he knew there were boundaries that would jeopardize things if he pushed.

  When I was done, I found him in the living room, looking at the framed photos on my bookshelf. He had one in his hand. I walked over and stood next to him, looking at an old family photo of me with both of my parents.

  “I don’t even know why I keep that out. Maybe it’s because I’m trained to keep up the charade of a normal family.”

  “You can love them both despite not approving of their lifestyle.”

  I took the frame from his hand and set it back on the shelf. Preferring a change of subject, I lifted one of me and Quinn in junior high. We wore matching clothes in the picture.

  “This is Quinn. I have no idea why, but we used to call each other on Sunday nights and plan a matching outfit to wear on Mondays every week.”

  Gray smiled. “You were hot even in middle school.”

  “I’m sure you weren’t so bad yourself.”

  The rest of the pictures on the shelf were of my goddaughter, Harper. Gray pointed to one. “I take it this is the guest of honor this evening.”

  “How could you guess?” I said sarcastically.

  In the photo, Harper was lying down, watching TV from inside a long box. She’d been obsessed with boxes since she could walk, and her parents had made her various pieces of furniture out of them—including the bed in the photo. The ra
tty old box bed sat right next to the beautiful, empty canopy bed her parents had bought her.

  Looking at my watch, I realized we needed to head out. “I just need to grab my phone and then we can get going.”

  “Give me the tour first?”

  “Of my apartment? There’s not very much to see. Unlike you, I don’t have a view of the city. But if you look out my bedroom window around two in the morning, sometimes the guy in the building across the street is doing naked yoga.”

  “Great,” Gray grumbled. He put his hand on my lower back and steered me toward my bedroom. “I’ll take a tour of the room you can watch naked yoga from anyway.”

  I stopped short of actually going into my bedroom, mostly because it was all mattress. I had a queen-size bed in a room that should have had a double. But I was a restless sleeper and tended to roll around a lot. Pointing to the bed and dresser, I said, “This is it. Small bedroom, but it has a big walk-in closet.”

  Gray turned, crowding the doorway, and me. “How did it go breaking it off with Oliver?”

  I tilted my head. “I show you my bedroom and you think of Oliver?”

  Gray ran his thumb over my lips. “I think of how much I can’t wait to fuck you on that big bed of yours, and I want to make sure nothing is standing in my way anymore.”

  God, I liked when he said he wanted to fuck me. I knew without a shadow of a doubt that our first time would be exactly that: fucking. Not making love or going all the way. There would be raw, primal fucking when the two of us finally got together.

  I cleared my throat. “It went fine. We should get going.”

  Downstairs, I was surprised to find Gray’s town car waiting. I’d assumed he meant he’d be driving to a kiddie party, not having a chauffeured car take us.

  “A driver to a kiddie party?”

  He waved off his driver who had started to get out when he saw us and walked ahead of me to open the back door. “I thought about it. But I need two hands to feel you up on the way home…after I win our bet.”

 

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