The Design(53)

“Fuck,” he moaned as I felt his fingers press against my sweetest spot.

“This is crazy,” I gasped, letting my head fall back.

His free hand wrapped around my neck as he kissed down to my collarbone.

“I want you to come like this,” he demanded, taking the reins back into his own hands.

I stared up at the ceiling and begged for more. We thrived off the intensity of the moment, the exhilaration of tugged hair and clawed arms and kissed lips. His rhythm stole my resolve again and again until the windows fogged up, I’d accidentally honked the horn twice, and I’d bruised my elbow on the car console more times than I could count.

The entire experience was dark and frenzied and utterly heartbreaking.

The ride back to the office was quiet and tense. I did my best to conceal the damage to my clothes and hair; but it was a windy day so I hoped no one would pay attention to a little sex hair.

When we arrived back at the Sterling Bank Building, Grayson pulled up at the corner of the block, away from prying eyes.

“Should I go up—” I asked at the same time he spoke.

“We should probably go up separately.”

I nodded, fumbling with the obnoxiously fancy door handle. There were at least thirty knobs and whistles on the damn door and I was left pressing anything that could possibly get me out. He chuckled and leaned over, popping the door open for me.

“Wait,” I said, suddenly growing curious about something. “What made you give me that note this morning in the conference room?”

“Do I have to give a reason?" he smirked.

I laughed. “Yes.”

“I liked the way you looked,” he replied with a cheeky smile.

“No,” I shook my head. “There's more to it than that.”

He sighed and looked out the window for a moment before meeting my eye with a look of steely resolve.

He shrugged, trying to downplay the sincerity of the moment and then he finally answered, “You’ve always been someone who interests me.”

I smiled. “Ah, now that makes sense. I am a very interesting girl.” I winked and he shook his head, pretending to be annoyed with my joke.

“I’ll see you up there in a just a minute,” he promised before placing a kiss on my cheek.

It was such a gentle move—a chaste kiss on the cheek wasn’t Grayson’s style—and yet it was enough to send me walking away from his car with a smile, wondering what in the world would come next.

…



Fifteen minutes later, Grayson stepped out of the elevator with two brown paper bags. I leaned back in my desk and squinted to read the black writing on the side of the bags, but I didn’t get the chance to make out the logo before he dropped one of them onto my desk.

“Thanks for doing that errand for me during lunch,” he spoke with a formal, impersonal tone. “I figured you didn’t have time to eat.”

Like mine the night before, his acting was mediocre at best, but Peter and Mark were both busy on the phone and Alan was too preoccupied to care that Grayson was giving me lunch. Still, it made me smile all the same.

“Thanks. That errand worked up my appetite,” I said.

He nodded and turned toward his office while I examined the brown paper bag.

“Lawry’s Deli” was printed in black cursive and when I opened the top of the bag, there was a note scribbled on one of the deli’s napkins.

“I ordered you my favorite sandwich. Hope you like it. PS You left your jacket in my car. I think I already know a way that you could earn it back. - G”





Chapter Eighteen





I was at my desk on Wednesday morning, brainstorming ideas for my secret design submission, when my work phone rang so unexpectedly that I almost jumped out of my skin.

I stared down at it with wide eyes. Someone was calling my work phone. The last person that had called my work phone was Grayson’s mom. So, chances were Grayson’s mom would be on the other end of the line.

The phone rang again and Alan’s beady little eyes sliced over to me.

“Are you going to answer that phone or let the client get your voicemail? Jesus Christ.”

“Oh, right.”

I reached for the receiver and crossed my fingers beneath my desk. Please don’t be Grayson’s mom. Please don’t be Grayson’s mom. I liked her, but the only update I actually had for her was that I was currently doing the horizontal tango with her son.

“Hello?” I asked hesitantly.

“There you are slutasaurus rex. You didn’t answer your cell phone so I thought I’d try you at work.”

Brooklyn. Oh, thank God.

“Is that annoying boss beside you right now? Is that why you aren’t talking?” Brooklyn asked when I didn’t respond.