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“Alright,” I muttered, pretending like it was an effort to give in to his charm.
His mouth curved into a smile. “Good, because I have a plane to catch and if I don’t leave now, I’m going to miss it.” He flipped me over and gently kissed my lips. With a long groan, he moved off the bed, searching for his clothes that were scattered all over the apartment.
I shifted to the edge of the bed and watched him pull up his jeans. As he scanned the room for his shirt, the welcomed memory of tearing it off the night before flashed through my mind, until I remembered where I threw it. Oh no…
“Hang on.” I slipped on my gown and scooted out of the room, predicting its fate before I found the evidence. Sure enough, his shirt was there…in tiny pieces all over Luci’s bed.
“Fuck,” Grayson muttered from behind. “He really is the devil, isn’t he?”
“I’m pretty sure I ripped it first, if that helps. I’ll buy you a new one.”
“Don’t be silly. I’ll call my driver and get him to pick one up on the way here.”
I blinked. Driver? Of course he has a driver. “Wait, I might have something.”
I bounded back into the bedroom and rummaged through the closest until I found the bag of clothing Pete had left behind and clearly not missed. Pulling out one of his old work shirts, I turned and handed it to Grayson. “It needs an iron, but it should just fit.”
Grayson’s eyes narrowed. “This is your ex-boyfriend’s shirt, isn’t it?”
I shrugged. “It could be. I’ve had many lovers.” His eyes grew large and I punched his shoulder. “I’m joking. Yes, it’s his.”
He slid it on and buttoned it up. It was too tight around his arms, but it made him look so damn sexy, I wanted to tear it off immediately.
“Don’t look at me that way.” He chuckled as he straightened the collar.
I grinned mischievously and sat back on the bed, letting my gown slip off my shoulder. “What way?”
A little blush touched his cheeks. “The way that will make me miss my flight,” he said, leaning down to kiss me goodbye. Taking one step towards the door, he paused and returned a second later to claim my lips again. As he pulled away with an enduring groan, his eyes morphed from hazel to green, and before I knew it, he was unbuttoning his shirt and climbing back over me.
“But your flight…” I mumbled as Grayson’s tongue dipped in and out of my mouth.
He parted from my lips, breathing heavily as he stared down into my eyes. “Fuck it, I’ll catch the next one.”
When Grayson left an hour later, still in a rush, I dressed in my pyjamas for the first time that day and ambled through my apartment, picking up after our trail of destruction. Torn clothes, dirty dishes, and empty condom wrappers littered the floor…plus one cell phone.
In his haste to catch his flight, Grayson must’ve dropped his phone. I picked it up and pushed the home button, waiting for the screen to light up. It was locked, but the screen was full of notifications.
Adam: 6 missed calls
Dad: 3 missed calls
Mel: 10 missed calls.
His phone lit up with a text message.
Adam: Why the fuck aren’t you answering my calls? Dad read your report. He’s actually impressed. He wants you to stay and make the deal.
And again a few minutes later.
Adam: Where are you? Quit fucking around. Dad’s getting pissed.
Adam: Great. Now he’s sending me over to babysit you.
I pressed my lips together and slowly placed the cell phone on my nightstand. I had no business reading his messages.
* * *
For once, I didn’t mind that it was Monday. After a thoroughly satisfying weekend, I went to work feeling a lot lighter—I guess multiple orgasms would do that to you. I wasn’t going to get down about the uncertainty of my job, because Grayson was right. Change could be a good thing, and it was probably just what our magazine needed.
