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Oh…oh.
Why didn’t I think about that before inviting him in?
Or maybe I did subconsciously think about it…and I wanted to invite him in anyway?
“Can you give me your shirt?” I ask him, gnawing on my lip. “I’ll put it in the dryer for you before we go upstairs. We can’t put your pants and suit jacket in the dryer, but we’ll figure something else out for them.”
Grayson nods, shrugging his suit jacket off. I take it from him, my eyes sweeping over the top half of his body. His white shirt is wet and almost transparent, plastered against his tanned skin. My throat suddenly feels. He loosens his tie around his neck before slowly unbuttoning his shirt. I watch as he peels the wet fabric from his body and hands it to me.
Grayson stands before me, bare chested and my heart thuds. I drink him in, his strong pecs and his brown nipples. He’s got a bit of hair on his chest and along his navel, going down—oh.
The pulsing between my thighs is back again, with an urgent ferocity.
“I’ll just—” My voice comes out as a husky croak, and I clear my throat. “I’ll put your shirt in the dryer.”
And then I’m practically sprinting away from him. Grayson is tall and handsome— but I wasn’t expecting him to look this hot. A clothed Grayson is charming. Shirtless Grayson? He’s unbelievably tempting.
I shove his shirt into the empty dryer and start the timer, before closing the door to the laundry room behind me. I walk back to the main corridor to find Grayson still standing where I left him. “My room is upstairs,” I tell him, and then grimace because that sounds a bit too suggestive. “I mean, we can wait there. I’ll get you a towel too.”
He tugs his lower lip between his teeth and the fluttering butterflies move from my stomach to my heart. “Are you nervous, Goldilocks?”
I squint up at him, trying to appear as if his mere presence isn’t affecting me. “Nope. Why would I be?”
Grayson reaches out, his fingers sliding along my bare arm. There’s a teasing glint in his dark eyes. “You’ve shivering, and it’s not because of the cold or your wet dress.” He gives me a lopsided smirk. “And you appear flushed. Lies get you in trouble, Miss Johnson.”
Oh dear Lord…he’s flirting.
I don’t know where the boldness comes from, but I lean into him. I might not have too much experience with flirting, but I can tease too. My hand presses against his strong chest. His breath rattles at my touch. “Your heart is beating fast. Are you worried I might take advantage of this situation? I mean… you’re the one currently in the state of undress right now.”
His throat bobs with a hard swallow. “Towel,” he grunts. “I need a towel, please.”
I can’t hide the smirk on my face. Spinning on my heels, I walk up the stairs and Grayson follows me into my bedroom. I turn on the light and grab a fresh towel from my closet. “You can use my bathroom. Take your time.”
“I’ll only be a few minutes.” He takes the towel from me and walks to my adjoining bathroom, closing the door behind him. A minute later, I hear the shower turn on.
This means, I have about five minutes to turn myself from looking like a drowned rat into something more…pleasant looking.
I grab another towel and lock myself inside my walk-in closet. I peel the wet gown off me and quickly dry my body before putting on a pair of ripped jeans and a white tank top. I could have chosen a dress, but I’m going for a more casual look. Anyway, he’s already seen me soaked. There can’t be anything more embarrassing than that.
After I’m dressed, I leave the closet and make my way to my vanity table. I’m blow drying my hair when Grayson walks out of my bathroom.
My jaw gapes open at the sight of him in nothing but a white towel.
Oh… oh…OH!
My mouth waters, and I am utterly speechless. He stands there, in the middle of my room, and suddenly, the place feels small with his imposing presence.
I place my blow dryer down and take two steps back, before settling on the edge of my bed. His gaze slides over me and my skin is full of goosebumps at his attention. “I guess…we have about an hour to kill,” he says cautiously. “What do you have in mind?”
“We can talk?” I suggest.
“Oh?” He quirks a single eyebrow. Grayson moves toward me and takes a seat on my bed, keeping a small distance between our bodies. The mattress dips under his weight and his tall frame seems to tower over me, even with both of us sitting down. “What do you want to talk about?”
“Tell me one thing that makes you angry.”
“Hmm. Arrogance. You?”
I chew on the inside of my cheek. “Traitors. What scares you?”
