Best of 2017

“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.