Skirt Chaser

by Stacey Kennedy

  Grey chuckled, reaching for his napkin and placing it on his lap.

  “But you, dear,” Violet said to Evie, with a soft voice and a pat on Evie’s hand. “You are not someone I expected to see here. I didn’t believe it when they said you’d be the maid of honor.” She hesitated and studied Evie’s face. “You don’t look drunk at all.”

  “That’s because I’m not,” Evie said.

  Violet blinked, surprise widening her eyes. “You came here willingly?”

  “See,” Grey interjected gently. “I’m not alone in questioning your sanity.”

  “My sanity is just fine,” Evie rebuked, giving Grey a look before smiling softly at Violet. “Of course, I would be here.”

  “I don’t understand why,” Violet countered. “You know I was always on your side with all this, Evie.” She drew in a deep breath before addressing Evie again. “But I figure someday Seth may be the one who oversees what retirement home I go to. So, here I am, playing the part of the nice and sweet grandmother.”

  God, Grey liked this woman. She reminded him of his mother.

  He took a sip of his water as Violet continued, keeping her voice soft and the conversation private. “You, however, have no reason to subject yourself to this hell, my dear. Why are you here?”

  A question Grey couldn’t stop asking himself. Evie was smart and clever and proud, she didn’t need these people in her life. But only Evie could answer that, and while she’d given a reason, Grey wasn’t sure he believed it.

  Evie’s lips parted and then shut again. She let out a long sigh and shrugged. Maybe she was growing tired of having to explain herself.

  Softness crossed Violet’s expression. “Well, there is only one thing to do in times like these.” She turned to Grey, waving him on. “Mr. Crawford, Evie and I need wine.”

  “Of course, ma’am,” Grey replied, reaching for the wine bottle in the middle of the table. Positioning it over Violet’s glass first, he began pouring. “Tell me when to stop.”

  “Stop when it’s about to overflow,” she said, laughing.

  Once he had all three of their glasses full, someone across the table clinked their glass. When he looked in that direction, he found Holly standing, clearly in her glory to be the center of attention.

  Violet muttered to Grey, “Let’s do this quickly before the main attraction starts.” She lifted her glass. “To Evie, and her sweet, kind, beautiful soul.”

  And to that, Grey raised his glass.

  * * *

  With a full belly and an easier smile from the two large glasses of wine over dinner, Evie held onto Grey’s hand, following behind Holly and Seth and the rest of their wedding party, which consisted of friends from high school, a couple of cousins, and Seth’s younger brother, Mark. Nearing ten o’clock at night now, the older crowd headed off to bed, and even Evie felt exhaustion settle in. The sun, the wine, the earlier orgasm…the nonstop wanting of Grey. She glanced beside her, toward all that heat and passion, and Grey looked as fresh as he had that morning. “It seems you won Violet over,” she told him with a smile. “I’ve never seen her quite so smitten before.”

  Grey returned the smile. “The feeling is mutual. What a fabulous woman. Has she always been so…”

  “Loud?” Evie offered.

  “Vivacious,” Grey corrected.

  Evie nodded. “For as long as I can remember, she’s been pretty wonderful.”

  “Have you always been close, you and she?”

  “Always.” Evie slowed her pace, walking the pathway leading back up to the main lobby where the bar and theater were located for the resort’s nighttime entertainment. “Two of my grandparents lived in Costa Rica once they retired so I never saw them. And the grandparents that lived in Michigan both died within a year of each other when I was little, so Violet was kind of a grandmother to me.” She hesitated, laughing softly. “Of course, now that you’ve met her, you see that she’s almost too fun to be called a grandmother.”

  “I do see,” Grey agreed. “And your parents? What of them?”

  “They live in Michigan. We’re incredibly close. I talk to my mother on the phone a lot.”

  “Do you see them often?” Grey asked, seemingly truly curious.

  Evie shrugged, giving a sheepish look. “Not as much as my mother would like, but it is what it is. Traveling’s expensive, and she understands that.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she realized maybe Grey wouldn’t. He grew up with money. It was a different kind of life than hers. “Do you see your mother a lot?”

  “I do,” he said with a snort, glancing out in front of him before looking at her again. “You think Violet is loud, wait until you meet Anne Crawford. The woman has no filter, and she would never tolerate not seeing me.”

  Evie couldn’t help but wonder if maybe that was why Grey seemed so straightforward. Maybe his mom had a hand in that. “She sounds like someone I’d get along with.”

  “You would,” Grey said simply.

  As they continued to walk hand-in-hand, the music from the lobby area became louder with each step they took, and Evie became more curious about his life. “You have no siblings, right?”

  Grey smirked. “And just how did you know that?”

  “Because I researched you,” Evie added, then shook her head at him and smiled. “And before you go and get a big head about that, don’t forget that your company hired me. I needed to learn about who I worked for and what they’d want from me.” She paused at his grin. “What’s the smile about?”

  “It all makes sense now,” he muttered.

  “What makes sense?”

  “I had wondered where you got your bad opinions of me,” he said, arching a brow. “But now I know where—clearly from the internet.”

  “Google knows all.”

  Grey adamantly shook his head, brought her hand to his mouth, and before he pressed a kiss to the back of her palm, he said, “Google doesn’t know everything.”

  Warmth that he seemed to bring so naturally slid across her, but was hastily interrupted when Holly said, “Come on, guys, let’s get some drinks.”

  Evie blinked then, realizing they’d arrived at the bustling bar.

  The main lobby was up the stairs, but on this floor, there was a large theater off to the left. To the right, there was a seating area with wicker chairs surrounding circular tables and a salsa band playing for the crowd, with the large bar behind them serving up fancy drinks with little umbrellas.

  Before she could reply, she was in Grey’s arms. The scent of citrus and man filled her senses, as Grey stated in his business voice, “Holly, I’m afraid that Evie’s mine for the rest of tonight, if you don’t mind.”

  “Of course, I don’t mind. Go have fun!” Holly smirked, shaking her head. “You two seriously can’t keep your hands off each other, can you?”

  “Not a chance in hell,” was all Grey said before taking Evie’s hand, leading her onto the dance floor as the band continued playing an upbeat Latin pop song. He smiled that sly grin Evie was becoming fond of, then spun her out, bringing her back in his arms, easily guiding them into the rhythm of the song.

  Evie sighed, not sure what was worse: pretending she knew how to salsa dance or dancing on a completely empty dance floor. “Are you seriously going to make me dance right here in front of everyone?” she asked.

  He grinned, sliding his hand across the small of her back, holding her close. “Yes, I seriously am going to make you dance right here in front of everyone, and you’re going to enjoy it.”

  “Oh, and why is that?”

  “Because you’re dancing with the hottest guy here.”

  She barked a loud laugh, shaking her head at him. “I can always count on you to say something arrogant.” His grin widened at that, but as she glanced around, she realized he wasn’t necessarily wrong either.

  With his one hand on her back, his other holding hers, he guided her across the dance floor, making her look like a far better dancer than she exactly was
. “Seriously, you can even salsa? Is there honestly anything you can’t do?” she asked.

  “No.”

  She snorted. “No? Really?”

  “No,” he repeated. “If I need to be good at something, I work hard until I am great at it, and that includes learning to dance in college since”—he winked—“women like that.”

  “You know,” she said, starting to see that his arrogance was more just stating the truth, while he spun her out again and then brought her back in close. “I have never met anyone like you before.”

  “I’m glad.”

  She rolled her eyes, following the way his hips swayed. “And why is that?”

  “It means I have no competition.”

  She laughed, easily…maybe even easier than she had in a long time. But then she caught the crowd staring at her…all those eyes…all those people. “I don’t do this well,” she grumbled, looking at him. “I’m not used to being the center of attention.”

  “There’s nothing to do.” Grey slid his thumb across her hand, lowering his voice into that rumbly tone. “Just stay here, look at me, the rest doesn’t matter.”

  She sighed again. “But—”

  “My God, Evie.” Grey squeezed her hand, shaking it a little. “Is it impossible for you to stay quiet and simply enjoy something?”

  Again, she sighed. “But—”

  Her voice hastily cut off as he leaned down and whispered in her ear, “There will be a time when I quiet your beautiful mind.”

  When he straightened up, she couldn’t help but play along. He made her want to. “That sounds like a promise, Grey.”

  “It is that, angel.” He grinned.

  He gave her another spin then settled into one spot as the band changed to a slow song. They stayed there, slowly swaying their hips to the beat, and she became lost in his smoky eyes. She’d come to realize that he was so different than her first impression of him. Before this trip, she thought Grey was a ladies’ man on a power trip. A guy not to be trusted because he’d break her heart. Now… “I think maybe it’s time I apologized.”

  “Apologize?” he said with raised brows. “For what?”

  “For judging you wrong.” He slowed his dancing, and she bared it all, knowing he deserved to hear it. “I thought you were this certain type of guy, and I treated you like you were that man. But…now I know that you’re one of the most solid guys I’ve ever met. You came here with me to help make this wedding easier. I’m still not entirely sure what you’re getting out of all this.”

  “I told you before,” he murmured, dropping his mouth closer to her. “I get you.”

  “But you haven’t had me yet.”

  He inclined his head. “Oh, but I will.”

  She gave a shy smile, unable to disagree with him there. He seemed to be after something before he took things to the next level, and if she were honest, she wasn’t exactly sure what that was, but she could feel the tension building between them. “Take that for example. Before, I thought your boldness was arrogance. Now, I see that confidence as something else entirely.”

  “What do you see?”

  Maybe it was the wine, being in paradise. Maybe it was him, but she spoke her truth. “I see a man who knows his worth. I see a man who demands people around him live up to those expectations. It’s not haughtiness, which is what I thought it was. It’s because you’re good and honest and real, and you demand that people treat you with the respect you know you deserve.” She drew in a deep breath before addressing him again. “I think it was hard for me to see that before.”

  “But now?”

  “Now I want you to know that I’m sorry for the way I treated you,” she continued, not letting herself cop out. “I’m sorry that I haven’t said a hundred times before now that you’re a good, strong man, and that all of this, everything you’re doing for me, is one of the nicest things anyone has ever done.”

  A warm smile crossed his face as he released her hand to cup her cheeks. “Thank you for that, Evie.”

  In the manner that was so Grey, without caring that they had an audience, he pressed his mouth against hers. At first, his kiss was teasing. A light embrace that was as playful as it was intentional to draw her in.

  A few seconds later, everything changed. His fingers tightened on her face, and his kiss became hot and demanding. He angled her head and slanted his mouth over hers, and in that second, she belonged to him.

  Heat pooled between her legs, making her hot and wet and ready. Though his statement, his declaration in front of anyone watching was so much more than that. His passion consumed her. She burned like a fever, and she needed a cure, and that cure was Greyson Crawford.

  He broke the rules she’d set for herself.

  He freed her.

  And she felt reborn in that liberty.

  When he backed away, she reopened her eyes to his smoldering gaze. “Grey,” was all she could think to stay, simmering with a desire she couldn’t control.

  “Yeah, angel, I know.” He gave her a heated smile, brushing this thumb across her bottom lip, igniting the fierce burn rushing up her spine. Then he added, “It’s time.”

  Chapter 7

  Back at the room, Grey shut the door behind him then moved to the living room, leaning his shoulder against the wall, arms folded. Evie slowly approached the bed, taking her time. Silence had fallen between them on the way back to the room. It was the kind of heavy silence that spoke of her nerves. Grey grinned; she was such a sweet little thing who likely had very few one-night stands, if any. It just so happened there wasn’t a nervous flutter in his gut. He’d waited one month for this moment.

  To have her.

  To own her.

  He kept a firm eye on her as she stopped at the bench at the end of the bed, and he noted the way her shoulders moved with a deep breath. His cock swelled in his pants, all that innocence a delightful treat. He had liked this game between them over the weeks that she worked for him. This push and pull.

  His patience had been worth it because he won, he saw that now. Her surrender was right there, ready for him to take. Nothing had ever felt this good. The high of a win, professionally or personally, had never been this rich before.

  When she finally turned to face him, lacing her hands together, he broke the silence. “There are two ways we can go about this,” he told her.

  “What ways are those”—her mouth twitched—“missionary or on top?”

  He chuckled, thinking her nervousness came out in a cute way. “No, angel,” he said, approaching her. When he reached her, her spicy scent flowed around him, and he added, “Your way, or my way.”

  She visibly swallowed, cheeks flushing pink. “What’s your way?”

  “I can show you.” He lifted his hand, slid his thumb up her neck, across her pounding pulse. “Do you want to see?”

  “Yes,” she rasped.

  “Stay here.” Instead of giving her the kiss he knew she craved, he moved into the closet, took out the small, brown leather bag he’d brought in his suitcase then returned to her. Intrigue filled her eyes when he put the bag down on the bench. “Open it,” he told her.

  She gave him a curious look then stepped forward and unzipped the bag, peering inside. Seconds later, her head slowly lifted, brows raised. “Who are you?” she asked, laughing.

  He chuckled, brushing his knuckles against her cheek, loving that smile. “I like my sex to have a particular flavor.”

  “A filthy, dirty flavor, apparently.”

  He inclined his head, gesturing to the bag of sex toys. “I assume some, or all of this is new to you.”

  She gazed inside the bag again, slowly reaching for the blindfold and hanging it off the tip of her finger. “Except for the vibrator, I’m new to it all.” She reached in again and pulled out the leather straps, giving a nervous laugh. “To be honest, these scare me a little.”

  “They’re not for whipping you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  She let out a long
breath, visibly relaxing. “So, you’re not a sexual sadist?” At that, he arched a brow, and she snickered. “I watch Criminal Minds.”

  “Ah, I see.” He took the leather strap from her, running the soft leather through her hand. “But, no, I’m not a sexual sadist. I don’t get off inflicting pain, or receiving it for that matter. What I do like is kinky sex where I’m in charge. Full power exchange. Nothing I would do would ever leave a lasting mark, except maybe a slight redness to your skin that would fade within an hour or so.”

  “All right…” She cocked her head, regarding him closely. “How long have you been into this?”

  “Since my early twenties.”

  She closely watched him drag the leather through his hand, eyes glistening with intrigue. “What exactly would you do with that?”

  “It’s easier to show you than explain.”

  “Well…” She nibbled her bottom lip, her eyes fixated on his hands.

  To stop her nerves in their tracks, he took her chin, lifting her eyes to his. “Remember our terms, angel. You have nothing to lose here. We have this weekend.” He moved closer, bringing his heat near her, loving the little shiver she gave. “We can have traditional sex, and I will be content with that, or we can give our time together an erotic flavor.” Needing this to be clear, he stepped back, giving her some room to think. “What’s your choice?”

  Her cheeks were flushed, her pupils dilating before his eyes, and he saw her say yes before her mouth parted. “Yes.”

  Still, he needed more consent than that. In this game, misunderstandings could not happen. “We need to be clear at all times, Evie. I need to hear the words. Do you want me to use sex toys on you?”

  “Yes”—her cheeks burned bright pink now—“I want you to use sex toys on me.”

  “Better,” he said with a firm nod. “The leather straps?”

  “Yes, you can use the leather straps.”

  “Excellent,” he said, moving to the bench. He placed his bag on the floor and then sat on the bench and hooked his finger, calling her forward. Those cheeks still flushed a pretty pink when she stopped in front of him, and went even brighter when he said, “Undress for me, Evie.”