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“Graham,” I say, coming to a stop by the elevators, “did you misunderstand me?” I turn to look at him, making him sigh. “I’d like to stay.”
“And I would like to have some peace of mind knowing that you got home safely.” Something tells me the fact that Mark Tanner is probably still lurking in the building causes him some level of unease.
“So we are at a standstill in regard to my free will?” My voice is a bit harsher than I originally planned. What is the big deal? Why is he being so bossy and demanding? He’s not my keeper.
Graham’s hovering stance makes me quiver back in unknown fear of a man I barely know. I feel petite and vulnerable. I use my phone as a distraction, quietly digging it from the safety of my bag. I swallow hard when I see that it is after eleven. Where have the past four hours gone?
Ugh, he’s right. I should go home. Do I want to give him the satisfaction of winning? Or do I want to drill my feet into the shiny tiled floor and hold my own to prove a point? I glance at the text from Claire telling me that she is exhausted and that she promises to make it up to me for skipping out on our plans. I bite my tongue to keep from showing the results of the text in my eyes. Graham doesn’t need to know that I have no choice but to go home. It will do him no harm to go on believing that I have options. Serves his arrogant self right.
“I’m pretty tired. Go ahead and drop me off at home, then.” I can see his smirk forming on his lips, and I instantly ball my fist in retaliation. His “I won” face is almost the most annoying sight of all, second only to his I-know-how-to-make-you-squirm face.
“Good decision, Miss McFee. I’m glad you can be reasonable.”
Oh, the nerve of him.
We take the elevator down to the ground floor and slip out into the night. The cool air bites my skin as it hits me full force as we leave the shelter of the building. Collins jumps to posture at the sight of Graham, almost like one of those cute show dogs, eager to please his master. I can picture him wagging his tail and leaping through hoops just to get thrown a treat. I wonder how much excitement he encounters on a typical workday. It can’t be that much. I presume that the biggest challenge would be biting his tongue to keep his snarky comments to himself. At least that would be my biggest challenge if I were faced with the same type of job for someone as egotistical as Graham.
I feel the heat from his icy blues burn into me. I can sense my blush multiplying all over my pale skin. What is his deal?
“I’ll double the money that I owe you for tonight if you share what has you so entertained up in your pretty little head.”
What the hell? Graham’s words startle and awaken my sleepy body, more than the night air has accomplished.
“Wait,” I stop midstride. “This was supposed to be a trial run with Dominic. Not a paid escort date.”
“Regardless of how you spin it, you are getting paid to go on dates. Tonight—for lack of a better word—was a date. Correct? Dinner, drinks, dessert, and a safe ride home…” He lets the rest of his statement fade.
Yeah, sure, it sounds just like a date. Except, there is nothing safe about being in confined spaces with Graham. I didn’t expect him to pay me specifically for tonight. My eyes dart to my shoes as I feel the pang of shame overwhelm my composure. If this is what cheap feels like, without any sexual activity, then I am screwed. I imagine this feeling will be replicated in future agency dates as well. I better get used to it.
Where is my mind right now? As much as I need the money—and am doing this solely for the money—I don’t want it for tonight. Tonight was not work. It was fun. Every instinct that has been hidden behind the glamour of being wined and dined screams that not every suitor will be as…enjoyable?
There’s something about Graham. Besides the obvious hotness that he exudes, he is mysterious. Dare I say, dangerous? He has me tied up in knots. Like a moth to the flame, I am drawn to him, even though I know I’ll get burned. Even Graham warned me in no uncertain terms that I am headed in this direction.
Getting too close to someone means sharing a part of me. That is something I have made a hobby at avoiding. I have spent too much time trusting the wrong people and ignoring the good ones right in front of me. Graham might appear like a good guy from the outside. He has all the right moves—chivalrous, charming, flirtatious, and a master at seduction. He knows exactly what to say to get me wired. But, unlike most men, he wants to strip away my hard exterior and find out what makes me tick. To discover my weaknesses and then use them against me to bend my will.
Not interested.
The only way to handle the situation is to appease him. I give him a nod and pivot my body back toward the waiting car. My heels click against the smooth concrete, following the same rhythm as my heartbeat. His warm hand interlocks with mine. He caresses the sensitive skin of my palm with his thumb, sending rockets of heat throughout my body. Massaging. Teasing. Pleasuring.
My body trembles from the sensations flowing through my limbs. I can feel Graham’s wicked smile on the back of my neck. I pull my hand away and walk faster to the car.
“What was that, Miss McFee?”
His voice penetrates my senses, awakening everything in unison. His scent intoxicates the air whisking through my nose. My lower lip slips in between the cage of my teeth, remembering the feel of his thumb being there just minutes ago, the soft, yet hard, pad of his finger teasing my tongue and conscious thoughts into submission.
“Hmm?”
Graham pulls on my hips, turning me around in a flash. We are facing each other. His height towers over me and my eyes slowly travel from his chest up to his eyes. When they lock, I notice his visible swallow and see the smoldering heat reflected in his gaze. I inhale his scent and commit it to memory. He inches forward, making me back up. His fingers tease my side.
Another inch forward.
I move an inch back.
An inch forward again prompts my inch back…
It is as if we are slow dancing to an unknown song for the first time.
My butt hits the edge of his car. I am trapped. He releases my waist only to place both hands into my hair. The pads of his fingers press into the tense muscles of my neck. I tilt my head to move toward the pleasure he is inflicting on my senses. My butt melts into the side of the car. My feet shift in an effort to keep me grounded. Graham lifts the weight of my hair and allows the waves to cascade over my shoulders.
