Page 14 of Beautiful Betrayal

He reaches for the zipper of my hoodie and the lick of his tongue consumes me. I moan into his mouth and somehow his hand has caressed up my sweater to cup my breast. I gasp and arch into the touch, but a rumble of thunder shocks me, pulling me back to reality. I grab Grayson’s hand. “Wait. Wait. Not here.” I press on his chest and when he pulls back just enough to look at me, I add, “This place is special and not for one reason. I don’t want to be here with you when we’re like we are now.”

“Itis special, which is exactly why we need to be here, to remember who we are together. I know you don’t want to talk now, but we have to talk. It’s time, Mia. It’s past time.”

“I know,” I concede, “but not before we—not tonight. I don’t want to need to leave again. And I don’t want this place to become about a final goodbye.”

His lashes lower and he cuts his gaze, torment etched in his handsome face before he looks at me again. “Be clear, Mia,” he says softly. “We will not part ways in the middle again. I want you. Iwillfight for you, but we’re in or we’re out. We’re together or we both move on once and for all.”

Chapter ten

Mia

The past, a year and three months ago

The sky and the ocean are the same blue today, I think, my hands resting on the ledge of the cutout inside the lighthouse that sits a couple of miles down from Grayson’s family home. So blue, so perfect that despite the sky and the ocean starting at different places, they meld together as one. The way I do with Grayson. I rotate and rest my elbows on the ledge, my gaze landing on Grayson where he sits in one of the cozy chairs we picked out recently for our many hours spent here. His gaze is downturned, focused on his MacBook as he goes over numbers on the newest of his nationwide expansion of his father’s law firm, this one opening in Washington. He’s so damn good looking, so unassuming in faded jeans and a black snug T-shirt that hugs his impressive chest, his dark wavy hair rumpledand not from the wind. Because I can’t ever keep my fingers out of it.

He glances up and his green eyes meet mine, and even after nine months and almost every day since with him, I feel the punch of that connection. I feel him in every part of me. He winks the way he does often like we’re sharing a private secret, which we often do, and I smile, reaching for my wine glass on the table beside him. He catches my hand and pulls me to him, kissing me before he scowls into the phone. “Negative, Eric,” he says, and then releases me. “I do not like the numbers on that building. Tell Davis if he can’t negotiate better than that, I’ll do it myself.”

My lips curve because Davis, like Eric, is one of Grayson’s closest friends, but Grayson doesn’t pull any punches with them. When it comes to business, he’s smart, savvy, and if need be, brutal but he’s always honest. The honest part is probably the thing that makes me love him beyond all else, and there is plenty of else.

“That’s it,” Grayson says behind me. “I’m done for the day.”

I rotate to find him standing up and walking toward me with his wine glass in hand. Instantly, my stomach flutters like a schoolgirl who is about to stand next to her crush. That’s what this man does to me and has since that day I ran into him. “Did you notice which wine this is?” he asks, both of us facing each other, our elbows on the railing.

“That cheap but good one that I fell in love with in Sonoma last weekend after I learned there are wines to taste and wines to drink. And that the expensive ones are barely tolerable. Yes. I did. Thank you. I still love it.”

“It’s a good choice,” he says. “And I like that you look beyond the price tag.”

Because so many people in his life see his money before they ever, if they ever, see the man. “We should go to that Italianplace you love tonight.” He leans over and kisses me. “Or we could order in and eat in bed in between fucking and fucking some more.”

My cheeks heat and do so despite the fact that I’ve done about every naughty thing possible with this man. “I do love our nights in bed.”

He sets his glass on the ledge next to us and then takes mine and does the same. “Then bed it is.” His fingers tangle in my hair, and he drags my mouth to his. “I love you, Mia. You know that, right?”

“I love you, too.”

“I meanI reallylove you.”

“What’s wrong?” I ask, pulling back to look at him, sensing his suddenly darker mood.

“Nothing is wrong. Nothing has been wrong since the day I met you.” His mouth closes down on mine, and his tongue strokes deep, his hand settling between my shoulder blades, molding me close. It’s a passionate kiss, a hungry kiss. A kiss that is all about emotion and not sex. A kiss that screams “I need you” and says so much more than even words.

It ends with me breathless and his thumb strokes away the dampness on my lips. “I have something for you.” He kisses me and then walks to his chair. “Come here.”

His mood is hard to read and I tilt my head to study him. “What are you up to, Grayson Bennett?”

“Come find out.” His green eyes light with challenge. “If you dare.” With those words, the edge I’ve sensed in him seems to soften.

My lips curve and I join him. “I dared,” I say, stepping between him and the chair, my hands settling on his chest. “Now what?”

“Sit and close your eyes.”

“Now you’re making me curious.”

“Good. Sit, baby. You’ll like this, I promise.”

“Of that, I have no doubt,” I assure him because this is him and he gives me no reason to do anything but like and love each day and moment.

I sit.

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