Billionaire Boys Club 4 : Once upon a Billionaire(59)

Maylee gave him a straightforward look. "I want to know why you're constantly trying to change me if you like me."

He looked incredibly uncomfortable at that. "I'm not trying to change you."

"You are."

Griffin rubbed his face again. "It's not that simple. These people live and breathe protocol. I just don't want . . . I don't want anyone to hurt your feelings by making you feel inadequate." 

"The only person who's done that to me is you."

He flinched and looked away.

"It's true. Every time I let my guard down, you hurt me. And I . . . I like you. But I don't know if I should."

"I'm an idiot," he declared harshly. "It was never my intention to hurt your feelings. Anything but that."

"And do you like me?" It felt weird to throw it out there so boldly, but she did wonder if he didn't know how to ask. She would simply have to do the asking. "For me?"

He was silent for so long that she thought she'd made a mistake in being so blunt. Her stomach churned nervously.

Then, he looked slowly up at her and reached out to finger a lock of her hair. It was damp, the corkscrew curl loose. As she watched, he wrapped it around his finger. "I missed seeing these tonight."

"You did?" Her breath caught in her throat.

He nodded, seemingly fascinated by that curl between his fingers. "I kept thinking your hair looked messy and unkempt and wild, but I didn't realize how much I liked that look on you until it was all smoothed out. You were beautiful but you weren't . . . you."

And that was what she wanted-no, needed-to hear.

Maylee stepped forward, moving toward him. She put a hand on the center of his chest, over his heart. He was incredibly warm. He didn't move, but she felt him tense against her. "Can I sleep in your room tonight?" she whispered.

His gaze met hers, and she saw hope and passion there. His fingers lifted, traced the lines of her cheek. "Are you scared to sleep alone?"

"No. Can I sleep with you anyhow?"

He groaned and dragged her into his room.

Chapter Ten

Griffin's warm hands took hers and he pulled her into his room. The lights were off, but from the light streaming in from her connected room, she could see a heavily rumpled bed. It was obvious that he wasn't exactly sleeping soundly, either. Was he thinking about her, too? Unable to sleep because he had her on his mind? Or was that wishful thinking?

He released her hand and shut the door to her adjoining room.

It was pitch-dark.

"Should we get the emeralds?" she asked. "I feel strange leaving them in the other room without being nearby."

"Fuck the emeralds." His hands moved to her shoulders, and he gently steered her further into the room. "Come to bed."

She giggled nervously. "You didn't need much convincing, Mr. Griffin."

"Please drop the 'mister', Maylee. And actually, you can just call me Griff, if you like. All of my intimates do."

He was implying she was one of his intimates? A warm flush ran through her body at the thought, and her hands moved to cover his where they rested on her shoulders. "Griff, then."

"That's better," he murmured.

"I didn't bring pillows," she said in a soft voice. "To put in between us."

"I'd rather hoped we didn't need them."

"Me too, but I didn't want to presume."

His hands tightened on her shoulders, and he turned her around. In the dark, she could barely make out the line of his jaw, the gleam of his eyes, and that rumpled hair that rose so adorably from his head. "Maylee . . . before we get into bed, I just want you to know that I have no expectations of tonight. Whatever you want is fine with me. If all you want is some company, I'm fine with that, too. I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do. Understand?"

"I'm glad to hear that," she told him, "but I'm a little confused as to why you feel it's necessary to throw that out there."




 

 

"Because, like it or not, I'm your employer, and I don't want to use my position to hold power over you. That would be unfair to you. Outside of this room, I'm in charge. In here, what you say goes."

"Really?"

"Yes." His fingers brushed her neck again in a soft touch that made her skin shiver with want.

"Anything I say goes?"

"Anything."

"What if I told you to bark like a dog?"

He stilled. "Almost anything."

She laughed again, mostly because he sounded so very disgruntled. Her hands moved to his chest and slid down the warm skin. "What if I asked you to take off your pants for me, instead?"

"Will you take off yours?"

"No, because I'm the one in charge."