Page 79 of Mr. Wicked

The comments had been streaming in ever since.

At the end of the evening, Grayson had hired a driver to take us to my apartment after the show. As the SUV pulled up in front of my building, Grayson didn’t get out. He kept his hands completely to himself, unlike the last time we’d been together—something he hadn’t brought up all night. When the driver opened the back seat door, Grayson leaned across the center seat and kissed me. A kiss that was slower, thought out, even more intimate than he’d been giving me during the concert. His exhales were just starting to scorch my cheeks when he pulled away and wished me a good night. The driver closed the door the moment I stepped onto the sidewalk, and I’d walked into my building alone.

For date four, we decided it was time I spent the night at his condo. With three dates and no sleepover ... Sloane was going to start questioning if he’d turned into a prude.

We didn’t want that.

So I’d brought an overnight bag with me to work, and since I was only scheduled to be here until seven, we were going to go to his place, order takeout, and go to bed in separate rooms. At some point before we went to sleep, I was going to take a picture of us in his bed, and that was what I’d post in the morning.

In just twelve hours’ time, the identity of Mystery Man was going to be revealed.

Oh God.

But for now, my fake, delicious boyfriend was rounding the corner of the bar and had stopped directly in front of me. “Hey.” His hand went to my lower back, pulling me until my chest was pressed against him. “You smell—”

I tensed. “Like the nachos and french fries I’ve been serving and the rum and Coke that I spilled all over myself, I know.”

“I was going to say you smell incredible.”

A compliment.

Huh?

Who is he tonight?

“I don’t know how,” I replied. “But thank you.”

As for him, in the days since the concert, his beard had thickened a bit more, and I just wanted to run my hands through it, to feel the sensation of his rough whiskers, wishing they were scraping along the insides of my thighs. And as he stared at me, his eyes were deepening to a rich emerald rather than the light sea green they normally were, and I couldn’t help but wonder why.

Or why he had to be so handsome.

Or why I had to be so attracted to him.

“Are you ready to leave?”

I swallowed, searching for my voice. “I just have a few things I need to finish so the girls who close tonight aren’t swamped with duties. Why don’t you sit at the bar?” I nodded toward Sloane. “She owes you a dirty martini anyway, doesn’t she?”

His grip tightened. “I have to kiss you first ... just in case someone is watching.”

The way he was holding me would answer any question anyone would have.

But if he wanted to put his lips on me, I wasn’t complaining.

“I’m sure they’re watching, Grayson.” I winked. “Give them a show.”

His teeth scraped his bottom lip. “Are you doubting my abilities?”

I laughed. “No.”

“Because I’d say I put on quite the show at the concert.”

He’d kissed me more times than I could count in that box.

He’d grabbed my butt.

His hands had never been far from my body.

It was definitely a show.

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