Weekend Wife (Sassy in the City 1)

Given my small apartment and twin bed, I didn’t usually bring men home. This was why. I felt like we were two kids sneaking off after a play at summer camp. It was a lot of man on a small bed. The fact that he was wearing a suit made it even more ludicrous. At least I had made my bed that morning though I was regretting the decorative pillow that said “good vibes.” I’d had it for years and now it felt like it was further contributing to the dorm room look.

While Grant was untying his shoes (I was no expert but hello, Italian leather), I grabbed the pillow and hurled it across the room.

“What was that for?” he asked, amused.

“Too many pillows for two people.”

“True. I’m not planning to take a nap.” He kicked his shoes off.

Unlike me, his feet skimmed the floor. Mine were dangling in the air.

“You need to elevate your ankle,” he said. “Legs up, Leah.”

Grant took my knees and hauled my legs up. I automatically turned so I was positioned along the length of the bed and it just felt normal to go onto my back. I wanted to giggle like a teenager.

A grin must have split my face because as Grant moved in alongside of me, he asked, “What’s so funny?”

“This. You. Me. This insanely small bed. The fact that it’s eleven in the morning.”

“It is kind of crazy, isn’t it?” He ran his finger over my bottom lip. “Should we stop?”

“Oh, hell no. I didn’t mean that.”

Grant laughed softly. “Good.”

I just wanted him to take charge. He was being very kind and polite and thank God he was, or I wouldn’t be cool with him being in my apartment. But now I wasn’t sure I could just attack him. Not when the urge to giggle was so strong. I really needed him to just do this thing. Be alpha.

Maybe he read that in my expression. Or maybe he would have done it anyway. He certainly gave the general impression of being domineering. Whatever the reason, Grant took over. “Take your hair down,” he commanded.

I reached up and yanked out my hair tie with more power than finesse. I shook it loose and Grant smoothed it down on my right side, running his fingers through it, pulling it out and studying the strands.

He met my gaze. “You’re absolutely gorgeous, you know that, don’t you? I’ve wanted to see your hair down for months.”

For being an actress and needing to read people, I had failed miserably

with Grant. I had never once gotten that sense from him. I hadn’t been sure what his deal was but I didn’t think that he’d given any thought to me other than maybe being slightly amused by me.

“I’ve wanted to see you out of a suit for months,” I said.

“Really?” Grant shifted his touch from my hair to caressing down the length of my arm.

He laced his fingers through mine, which surprised me. It was surprisingly intimate. Tender.

Then he flipped the script by tugging my arm up over my head and pinning it there. Desire shot through me, my nipples hardening. My tight uniform sweater didn’t hide that fact. I realized how ridiculous it was I had my name badge on. He was clearly having the same thought because his free hand skimmed over it.

“Leah.” He undid the clasp on the back of it. “Leah what?”

Who cared? He was driving me crazy, hovering over me, like we had all the time in the world, his grip on my hand over my head causing my chest to rise. But I answered him, because I wanted him to stop talking and start touching. “Romano.”

“Leah Romano. I like it.” Grant pulled the name tag out from the sweater and closed the clasp again. He tucked it into his pants pocket.

I was about to ask him why the hell he was stealing my name badge when he bent over and kissed me again. I forgot everything I had planned to say, ever, about anything. I forgot I was a waitress, that my room had no window, that I wasn’t sure how I was going to afford a ticket to Buffalo for Christmas to see my parents, or that I needed to discuss with my roommate Javier his irritating habit of using my washcloth to clean up his shaving whiskers.

I forgot everything.

All I knew was Grant’s mouth on mine and his fingers entwined with mine. There was nothing but right then and right there, him and me in my cozy bed.

His arm brushed mine as he swept his tongue between my lips. It was a hot, skilled, confident kiss. The kiss of a man who knows exactly who he is. It was the kiss that a man gave a woman when he wanted her. It was a kiss that showed no doubt as to our chemistry. His grip on my hand tightened and I reached out and skimmed my hand across his chest. His hard, muscular chest.