by Alexa Riley
“We can go home,” he suggests, his teeth grazing along my tender flesh.
God, how I want to.
“Baby steps,” I remind him just as his fingertip grazes along my pussy. I jerk my gaze over to see if anyone can see us. From our position, we’re hidden from prying eyes. Which is exactly why I find myself parting my legs. A mewl escapes me the moment his finger is back inside me. “Too fast,” I tell him. “All of this is too fast.”
He sucks on my neck and then presses a soft kiss to my skin. “I can’t slow down with you. Everything in me screams to devour you. I won’t stop until I’ve had all of you, Violet.”
His finger slowly fucks me, which drives me borderline insane. My entire body shakes with the need to orgasm right here in a restaurant full of people. He’s corrupting me.
“Gray…” I bite my lip to hold back a moan.
“Give me what I want,” he growls and then flicks his tongue at my ear. Coupled with his hot breath in one of my most sensitive places and the way his finger owns me, I come like he wants. I come hard and not-so quietly. Thankfully, the restaurant is fairly loud and my sounds are drowned out by forks clattering on plates and people talking. When I come down from my high, he slides his finger out of me and drags my wetness along the inside of my thigh.
“I’ll clean that up later,” he assures me before pressing a kiss to my cheek.
I’m in a daze as he pays the tab. Nobody is aware this man—my boss for less than two more weeks—just fingerfucked me in this booth. I’m almost giddy from my orgasm and the fact that we just did something super naughty. Gray appears cool and composed whereas I feel as though everyone in the restaurant knows what we were up to. He takes my hand, his finger still wet from my juices, and tugs me from the booth. His blue eyes are dark with lust and hunger. I wish I could repay the favor.
Tonight.
I shiver at his promises. He wants to continue this later. In my bed. I’m nearly delirious with the thought of having sex after so long. After everything that happened back then, you’d think that I’d be opposed to sex. And maybe, for several years, I was. But after some intense therapy, I was able to work through the things Vaughn made me do. I’m normal again.
“What’s wrong?” Gray questions once we’re back outside. The sky has darkened as a storm starts to brew. Wind howls between the buildings and I shiver. His brows crush together as he shrugs out of his suit jacket and wraps me up in it. It smells just like him, and I inhale the masculine scent.
“I was just thinking about…” I trail off.
He stops and pulls me up against a building to block the wind. His palm cradles the side of my neck as he regards me with concern. The look in his eyes causes my heart to flop. I could easily fall for Grayson Maxwell. “We’re friends,” he tells me, his eyes searching mine. “And we’re going to evolve into more. We already are. I want you to tell me things.”
I swallow and chew on my lip for a moment to draw up the courage. “It’s horrible.”
“There are things about me that are horrible. Tell me.”
My curiosity is piqued but I decide I’ll probe more on his horrible secrets later. “Vaughn…he…he prostituted me out.”
Gray’s face becomes murderous. “He fucking did what?”
My bottom lip trembles as I desperately fight tears. I’d gone so long without even thinking about it regularly. But just saying it out loud, to someone other than my therapist, makes it all come crashing back down around me.
“H-He made m-me have sex with men for m-money,” I chatter out. I’m not cold, just overcome with emotion.
He pulls me to him in a brutal hug that sucks the air out of me. When he starts whispering assurances into my hair as he strokes my back, I collapse in his grip. Gray is strong and fierce and holds me against him so I don’t fall on my ass.
“I’ll kill him. I’ll fucking kill him.” He chants this over and over and over again as if those words have the power to heal me. And magically, they do. I feel myself latching on to the furious way he says them—so sure and confident—that I believe him. I believe if he has the chance, he’ll do it. God, how I want him to. But Vaughn is a ghost when he wants to be. Nobody is taking him out. Not even the beautifully intense man who is holding me together.
“Are you okay? Did they hurt you?” he demands suddenly, pulling back slightly so he can see me.
I tilt my head up and admire his chiseled jaw and fiery eyes. His nostrils flare and if he grits his teeth any more, he might break them. “Mostly it was just sex. And on the occasion when someone hurt me, he hurt them.” I shudder. “I just…I didn’t want to do it.” More tears well in my eyes. I feel dirty and used and disgusting—just like when I confessed it all to my therapist. But instead of seeing pity or sadness, like I did in her eyes, I find hate and vengeance in his.
“I’ll find him and I will end him, Violet. I swear it on my own life,” he vows in a low growl. “Oh, sweetheart.” His forehead rests against mine and we both close our eyes. Despite unloading one of my most embarrassing secrets, I feel better. Lighter and freer.
“Thank you,” I murmur, my voice catching.
“For what?”
I let out a sigh. “For everything. You’re slowly chipping away parts of me that I didn’t realize were weighing me down. Thank you for that.”
His palms find my cheeks and he tilts my head up again to look at him. “You deserve to be free of all of it. I’ll do whatever I can to make that happen.”
He presses a soft kiss to my mouth.
Everything is going too fast, but somehow I can’t find it in me to care. I’m getting sucked into his vortex but I feel like that’ll be okay because he’ll keep me in the eye of his storm. Nobody will hurt me as far as Gray’s concerned.
And what if the storm becomes too intense?
I’ve survived much worse.
AS SOON AS we got back from lunch, Gray got caught up on a phone call so I busied myself with some cost analyses. Despite him telling me I didn’t have to make him coffee, I can’t help but notice the time. A scheduled coffee time. And normally, I’d resent every second of having to go into the breakroom to make it for him.
Today is different.
I want to make him a cup of coffee.
He has been nothing but good to me since I turned in my notice Friday. Doting and attentive. A good friend. And…more. A smile tugs at my lips as I walk into the breakroom and pull a mug from the cabinet.
When heat cloaks me from behind and two hands rest on the countertop on either side of me, I let out a surprised squeak.
“I see you’re back to doing your job,” Truman seethes.
I freeze and glare at him over my shoulder. “Get away from me.”
His eyes are manic and furious. Terror claws its way up inside me, but I squash it down. He is not Vaughn. Nobody will ever be as frightening as Vaughn.
“So help me if you don’t step away from me, I’ll scream bloody murder,” I threaten.
He pins me against the counter and his mediocre erection presses into my ass. I’m stunned for a moment as to what to do. “You scream and I’ll deny everything. You think they’ll believe the office slut who’s clearly banging the boss to get out of doing her damn job?”
I elbow him in his gut and he stumbles away. When he starts for me again, I twist and crack the coffee mug against the side of his face. We both stare at each other for a long moment in surprise. Then his fingers touch his eyebrow. The moment he pulls them away, I realize they are smeared with blood.
“You fucking hit me,” he hisses in disbelief.
I grip the handle of the mug and ready myself to use it again. “You fucking touched me,” I bite back.
I’m still pressed with my ass against the counter and my arm poised to swing if necessary when I sense a comforting presence. My senses are right because a second later, Truman is shoved away from me.
“What the hell is going on in here?” Gray thunders, his body between Truman and me. With h
is back to me, I can’t help but feel as though he’s chosen this stance as a protective one. My heart cracks and breaks because I can’t take his kindness. It’s too much. Too addicting. I’m going to crave it like an alcoholic needs her booze to survive. I want to get drunk off him. To let him hold me and fight all my battles that I’m too tired to fight anymore.
“She hit me,” Truman accuses in a venom-filled tone as he snags a paper towel from beside the sink. “With a coffee mug.”
“Boardroom,” Gray booms. “Both of you.”
I stiffen and want to choke Truman when he shoots me a satisfied smirk before he storms out of the room. Once he’s gone, Gray turns his murderous attention on me. I almost cower beneath his hard stare, but soon he softens and strokes my cheek.
“You okay?” he questions, his blue eyes assessing me.
I nod and hold up the mug. “I had a little help from my friend.”
“I’m so sorry.” His apology is a knife to my heart. It guts me.
“He got handsy and threatening. I took care of him,” I tell him, confidence bleeding back into my voice. “This is not your fault.”
His fingers run through his messy hair and he growls. “It is but I’m going to make up for it. I swear.” Then, his gaze falls to my lips for a moment. “Let’s get to the boardroom.”
“Am I in trouble?”
“Fuck no,” he snarls. “We have a meeting. A meeting you’re going to want to be a part of.”
“What?” I stare at him in confusion, but he grabs the mug and sets it down, his gaze narrowing.
“You won’t be needing that because you have me.” His lips quirk up on one side in a sexy, playful way. “Now come on.”
I let him take my hand, no longer concerned about people seeing. I won’t be here after two weeks anyway. Besides, he’s the owner. What are they going to do about it? I smirk at Clint from HR when I pass him in the hallway.
I grow nervous, though, when we enter the boardroom. Eight men are seated around the table. The eight men I hate most at this company. But then my eyes lock with Jeff’s—or Bull as Gray calls him—and he gives me a reassuring smile that has all the air in my chest rushing out in relief. He’s one of the few I don’t hate. Gray pulls out a chair at the head of the table—his chair—and motions for me to sit. All eyes are on me as I take my seat. I flit my gaze up to him and give him a questioning look.
Instead of answering me, his voice thunders as he addresses the group.
“You all were called here today because we have something very important to discuss. But first, I want to ask you all what Violet Simmons does for Maxwell.” His voice is low and deadly.
Jeff winks at me before turning to regard Ralph Darden at his left. “What do you think, Ralph?”
Ralph huffs and shrugs. “She’s a secretary. Grayson’s secretary.”
Gray crosses his arms over his chest and walks over to Ralph. “Wrong.”
At this, I scrunch up my nose in confusion but I don’t dare interrupt. Whatever it is that’s going on, I know Gray has my back. He wouldn’t treat me the way he’s treated me all weekend and today to suddenly throw me under the bus.
“She does special favors for the CEO,” Truman quips, disgust in his tone.
Gray’s fist slams so hard down on the table beside Ralph, it’s surprising that he doesn’t break his bones or the table. Everyone gapes at him in shock. Then, he places both palms on the mahogany and leans forward to glare at Truman from across the table. “That,” he clips out in the coldest tone I’ve ever heard, “is sexual harassment.”
Truman’s eyes widen in surprise and Ralph starts to protest.
“No!” Gray thunders. “You all will listen really well. Jeff and I became aware that many of you are sexually harassing our employees. Specifically, Violet Simmons. And in case you didn’t know, sexual harassment will not be tolerated at my company.”
Clint peeks his head in the doorway and clears his throat. He looks scared as hell. “That’s right,” he says in a wobbly voice. “According to our HR policy, many of you have violated the rules.”
“This is ridiculous,” Ralph hisses. “Just wait until the board hears—”
Jeff slides a piece of paper over to Ralph. “Actually, the board already knows. The motion has been approved to remove you via telephone conference earlier today. As of now, you are no longer an active board member.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Brent Adams, the VP utters.
Gray rises to his full height and pins the VP down with a vicious glare that has him hunching in his chair. “I don’t joke about sexual harassment.”
Brent has the sense to shut his mouth. His face turns bright red. I have to bite back a smile. That asshole has been one of the biggest thorns in my side here.
“Ralph, you may leave,” Gray says dismissively. “As far as the rest of you, you’re fired.”
A roar of arguing voices all start up at once, but Gray once again silences them with a fist slamming down on the boardroom table.
“This is not up for negotiation. Clint and Mr. Barker will handle it from here. I want you gone within the hour,” Gray hisses, his fiery glare meeting each and every one of them.
Truman, the arrogant prick, just can’t leave well enough alone because he stands abruptly and points an accusing finger at me. “Sexual harassment isn’t okay but it’s okay for this bitch to suck you off in your office. Double standards, man.”
Gray starts around the side of the table, a loud growl rumbling from him, but Jeff stands and blocks him.
“Enough, Truman,” Jeff bellows. “Talking shit after you get fired isn’t changing the fact that you no longer work for this company.”
Gray shoves past Jeff and pulls my chair out before offering me his hand. Once I’m standing, he addresses Clint this time.
“Violet is now our VP. That is what she does for this company. I’ll send you an email with the details, but understand this,” he tells the wide-eyed HR guy. “She is your boss. You report to her. And if any more of this sexual harassment bullshit slips through again, it’ll be your job next.”
He gapes at Gray but nods like a bobble head. “Yes, sir.”
I’m still in shock, even after we make our way back to his office and he closes the door. “What just happened?”
He stalks back and forth in front of his desk like a caged lion. “I did what I should have a long time ago.”
I swallow and stand in his path. His solid chest bumps against mine. A hot glare is affixed on his handsome face. When I reach up and run my fingertips along his jawline, his gaze softens. “I don’t know what to say,” I murmur, my lips tugging into a frown.
“There’s nothing to say,” he says gruffly. His palm finds my shoulder and he grips me gently. “They shouldn’t have lasted as long as they did.”
“But me? I don’t know, Gray…” I trail off. Why promote me right before I leave anyway?
“You’re more qualified for that position than anyone in this damn office,” he argues, his jaw ticking.
“Won’t they think…that…I don’t know…”
“That we’re fucking?”
I gape at him. “We’re not, though.”
His eyebrow quirks and he flashes me a smoldering grin. “Not yet.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
GRAYSON
I’VE BEEN COUNTING down the minutes till five ever since I fired a bunch of losers and promoted my girl. And like the hard worker she is, she’s taken her new responsibility seriously. She’s been tapping away at her computer for hours now. I’ve been trying to focus on work-related shit, but my mind keeps drifting back to lunch.
It had been perfect. I got to taste her—willingly on her part—before lunch and then had my finger back inside her before lunch was even over. I’d been looking forward to the moment I’d have her alone until she broke apart on the street.
That motherfucker prostituted her out.
I will put my crosshairs on his goddamned forehead
and blow his head off.
“Is murder on the agenda today?” Bull questions in a teasing manner from my doorway.
I shrug. “Maybe.”
His eyes widen and he closes the door behind him. “I was kidding, but apparently you’re not. Who are we killing?”
I can’t help but grin at my best friend. Always willing to go into battle with me no matter what. “Vaughn Brecks.”
He stiffens and gives me a clipped nod. “Thought so.” He drops a file down on my desk. Dusty’s familiar handwriting is scrawled on the outside. Three possible addresses. I flip open the file and stare at the pictures inside.
“He took these photos?” I demand, a menacing growl in my throat.
He shakes his head. “No, but he’s doing more digging. The first address is the one he thinks he’s at. A guy fitting his description comes and goes from there.”
“Anything else?”
“Not as far as that fucker is concerned. Mostly, I wanted to check to see how you were doing. In that meeting,” he says thoughtfully as he scrubs his cheek with his palm, “you weren’t yourself.”
I frown and cross my arms over my chest. “How so?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. You were focused. Not just on her but everything around you.”
Ever since Violet caught my eye, I seem to notice a lot of things. Mostly the things that directly affect her but she seems to touch everything around her, which means I notice those things as well.
“Violet makes me better,” I tell him, confidence in my tone.
He smirks. “I can see that. I can see she’s warmed up to you.”
“She’s mine,” I tell him absently as if that is the reason why she is no longer frigid around me.
“Does she know that?” he probes, amusement in his voice.
“I told her a time or two.”
He snorts and rubs at the back of his neck. “Of course you did. Does she know you’re a fucking stalker?”