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Graves—because of course it was Graves—had made a whopping donation and Chloe thought that so damned hot she wanted to fuck him right then and there just to show him her appreciation.
She loved how he made his donations anonymously, unlike Luke, who loved to take the spotlight.
After that call, Chloe was so primed for Graves it wasn’t even funny anymore. The entire day knowing she would be with him had felt like foreplay, spent in a constant state of arousal, and now she stood before her full-length mirror, dressed and pretty and more than ready to see him. It was already after eleven, and her heart was close to breaking because he hadn’t come to see her. Her pussy clenched at the same time she gritted her teeth from the agony of it all. And when she could simply take no more, she cursed him under her breath, grabbed her car keys, stormed down to her car, and headed for his apartment.
When she rang for his elevator, he didn’t answer for some time. At last she heard a gruff, puzzled, “Chloe?”
“Oh, good, you remember me.”
There was a silence like he couldn’t understand why the hell she was here. Damn him. She rode the elevator and once upstairs, she charged down the hall to his bedroom.
She stopped at the threshold and tried to calm her breathing, but her emotions ate her up like piranhas. Through a haze of lust mingled with anger, she noticed a dozen roses lay atop his bed next to a sooty black jacket, and then she saw Graves—delicious, unattainable Graves—stroll out of his bathroom in dark black dress pants to match the jacket and in the process of buttoning up the last buttons of a crisp white shirt. He was so beautiful her heart ached and her overstimulated body screamed in fury and need.
He reached for his jacket and then paused when he spotted her at the door, his face going blank as he assessed her in her emerald-green Herve Leger mini bandage dress. He gaped at her, motionless as a marble slab. “My God, Chlo, I can’t even fucking breathe.”
Her cheeks flushed, and her entire body trembled with mixed emotions. “I thought we said my birthday.” She panted, finding it impossible to still her erratic pulse. “It’s almost twelve!”
He signaled to the clock that said 11:46 on his nightstand, brows furrowed in confusion. “I was about to go get you.” His voice, husky and sensual, sent a ripple of awareness through her, and it only annoyed her more.
“I waited all day, Graves,” she gritted out, but she could smell cologne in the air.
Through the crack of his bathroom door she could see the mirror was fogged from a recent shower, and the thought that Graves may have been making himself handsome for her, just like she had been beautifying herself for him, made her pussy clench.
Graves cocked his head, as though truly confused about why she was so angry, and his tone was so tender she wanted to cry. “I had to wait, too, Chlo.” His moves were painfully slow as he draped his jacket over the back of a nearby chair, his muscles rippling under his shirt so sexily she felt quakes in her tummy. “I thought you’d like to enjoy your family, your friends?”
“I wanted to be with you. I blew off all my plans because I didn’t know…didn’t…was waiting for you like some nincompoop.”
He picked up the roses from the bed and started for her.
Desire like she’d never known welled in her throat. She saw him and wanted all of him, all over her, right here, right now. Her heart raced, and her stomach hurt from so much hunger for him she thought she’d fold over.
His lips curled softly into an amused smile, and his eyes glowed as he approached. “The letters said midnight. Didn’t they?” He spoke softly, with quiet emphasis, but she was infuriated and horny out of her mind.
She spoke in a suffocated whisper. “I’m not good with codes, Graves, you could’ve just—”
“I WILL PICK YOU UP AT MIDNIGHT—that’s what it read. I sent the diamonds in order, Chlo.”
“You did?”
That threw her for a loop. She’d been so excited opening her diamonds, viewing them, and receiving the next, that the letters had gotten all mixed up.
“Oh,” she said, feeling inept.
He reached for her and lifted a hand to cup her face in his warm palm, his smile gone. Emotions swirled in the depths of his eyes like lightning, and the desire in them made her pussy get soaked. “Did you have a good birthday?” he asked thickly.
The raspy arousal in his voice and tender touch disintegrated all her frustration until she was left a mass of quaking, vibrant desire. She could barely even swallow. “I am now. Thank you for my gifts. And—” When he extended to her t
he lovely red roses, an emotion that felt a lot like love unfurled inside her as she clutched them with trembling hands to her chest. “Thank you for these.”
She knew they may only be having sex, but the fact that he was doing all these things for her touched her in ways she’d never imagined.
“You’re welcome.” He took the roses from her and almost as soon as he’d put them down, he went to his bureau and pulled out another several dozen. She swallowed when he grabbed each rose in his fist, pulled, then spread out all the silken red petals over the bed.
He was making…a bed of roses for her…?
Piercing lust assaulted all her senses. She bit her lower lip to keep from moaning in pain, primed and ready and shaking uncontrollably as she watched this exhilarating man spread out each and every rose petal over his bed for her.
She had never expected or imagined anything even remotely romantic from a man like Graves. But the fact that he’d thought of this after showering her all day with diamonds made her want to…die.
