Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81581 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81581 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
“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.