Page 46 of Beautiful Betrayal

I don’t linger or contemplate what to say to Grayson. I’ll know when I’m with him. I exit the foyer and find him still at the window, radiating dark, hard emotions and I am determined to make the man I love feel something other than those things; I want him to feel me and us.

Chapter thirty

Mia

Right when I would join Grayson at the living room window, there’s a knock on the front door behind me. Obviously, it’s one of the men that just left, most likely Eric and most likely he left something behind. Eager to be alone with Grayson, I turn back to the door and hit the camera button beside it to find Blake Walker waiting on the other side, and my heart races with the idea that he might have received some sort of news about the plot against Grayson.

I quickly open the door and he hands me a card. “In case you need me. That has my cellphone on it.”

“Right.” I don’t feel relief. I feel disappointment. I want news. I want answers. “Thank you,” I add.

He must read my reaction. “We’ll make this go away,” he promises. “When you set someone up for a crime, as Ri is doing to Grayson, you commit a crime yourself. Ri will pay for his jealousy and competitiveness going too far.” He speaks with a confidence that I welcome. We need someone strong behind us right now and I do believe Blake Walker and his team are goodadditions to our efforts to shut down Ri. I hope Grayson feels the same and I urgently want to find out.

“Thank you,” I repeat but this time there’s force behind the words.

His eyes narrow on mine as if he’s looking for the same confidence in me that he’s showing in himself. “I’ll update you before bed.” With that, he turns away.

I quickly shut the door and lock up again, stuffing his card into my pocket before I rush toward the living room. The minute I pass through the archway, my gaze seeks out Grayson but he’s no longer by the window. The patio door is open, obviously his way of inviting me to join him. I close the space between me and that door, exiting the apartment, only to have Grayson grab me from the left. In a blink, I’m against the glass door and he’s pressed close.

“You will not put yourself in the middle of this,” he orders, his voice rough, his handsome face all hard lines and shadows, his fingers tangling in my hair and not gently. “I agreed to you going back for one reason: It buys me time to destroy him and that’s for me to do, not you. You go. You convince him you’re still there to stay and that’s all.”

“Yes, but—”

“No buts, Mia, That’s all you do. The end. Do not argue.”

“Grayson,” I plead, but his mouth comes down on mine and his tongue drives away my objections, each stroke a demand that I cannot turn down.

“Nothing else,” he says when his lips part from mine. “Do you understand me?”

Somehow after that kiss and with his perfect body pressed close, I manage a coherent reply. “Everyone in that room believes you need me.”

“And they were right. I do need you. I’ve been quite clear on that point, which is why I’m protecting you. Anyone who will goas far as Ri is going over jealousy could be capable of more. You could get hurt and I’m not letting that happen.”

“So could you. We protect each other.”

“Mia—”

“Grayson—”

“You will not fight me on this,” he says. “You will not win, so don’t even try.”

His voice is pure steel, the heavy-handedness of his mood is out of character for him, and to such an extreme that he turns me to face the glass, forcing me to catch myself on my hands. His legs cage mine, his hands shackling my hips, his lips at my ear. “You will not win.” His hand slides upward and he cups my breast. “You will do as I say.”

I cup his hand where it’s covering my breast, and he squeezes while I manage to process the fact that he’s not himself. He’s lost his father. He’s lost me. He can’t lose me again. That’s where this is coming from and I know that I can fight with him later if need be, debate with him, and we can make decisions together, but what he needs right now is agreement. “I’m not going to do anything we don’t agree on, Grayson. I won’t.”

“You’re right.” He pulls my shirt over my head. “You won’t.” And before I even know it’s happened, my bra is unhooked too. He drags me to him, cradling my body to his harder one to rid me of my bra completely, his hands cupping my breast, fingers closing down on my nipple. “And I won’t change my mind.”

I moan with the sensations rocking my body, spikes of pleasure blossoming from my nipples straight to my sex. “I’m going to try, though,” I pant out. “You know that.”

He leans me forward again, pressing my hands to the wall by my head. “Don’t try, Mia. It takes away time we can just be here, home, together.” He slides to my side, his leg still at the back of my knees, caging me, the lean of my body forcing my hands to stay put.

“I was never your submissive, Grayson,” I remind him. “I’m not starting now.”

“No?” he demands, unsnapping my jeans, and dragging the zipper down. “Are you sure about that? I seem to remember plenty of submissive moments.” He moves behind me and drags my pants down.

“Sex doesn’t count,” I pant out, trying to look over my shoulder, only to have him palm my backside and then give it a hard smack.

“Grayson!” I yelp. “We don’t do this like that.”

---