Page 11 of Obsessive Cravings

“Christmas is in a month. Let me know what you want.”

My mouth had dropped at the sudden change in subject. Like we were done with the situation. He was, but I wasn’t. “What do you want?” I asked.

He turned to me, his eyes softer. “My sister back.”

He hadn’t given me time to respond, walking from the kitchen before I could. I’d stood there, fighting the tears because I knew my next move would crush him. The front door opened, and his car drove off minutes later. For a moment, I’d almost wavered, almost called it off. But I hadn’t, and here I was. I hadn’t even stayed for Thanksgiving, driving straight through and crying the entire day.

I shoved the memory away. It hurt too much to dwell on the past. Chewing my lower lip, I grabbed the phone and put it into my purse before I threw my shoes on and headed to work.

My mind was still on Mason when I dropped my stuff in my office and stumbled to the lobby for a cup of the bland coffee we offered clients. I caught sight of Greyson Tides as he walked to the elevator, his head lowered while he looked at his phone. The two men I suspected were his security were still at the front door, looking out at something on the street. Instinct driving me, my mindset not where it should have been, I ran to the elevator and jumped in just as the doors closed. He looked up at me, his eyes wide until they narrowed. It was too late to back out now; the doors were closed, and the floors were climbing.

I swallowed awkwardly loud, lost in those blue eyes, flashes of my previous nights’ escapades with my fingers clouding my ability to focus. My voice fled, reality hitting me that I’d just made a foolish move that would likely cost me my job.

He reached over and hit the emergency button, the elevator jolting to a halt. His eyes never left me, and their intensity made my knees weak.

“I’m waiting,” he said, his voice terse and hard, as if he wasn’t the same man who had knocked me over with his smile on the sidewalk that day.

“I…I wanted to thank you,” I said, finally finding my voice and wondering why I sounded so meek.

“For?” He raised a brow, and I could see he knew exactly what for, but he wanted me to say it.

“For the furniture and the other things you sent me. They were perfect.”

He tilted his head, studying me, and I couldn’t read his eyes. “I thought perhaps you wouldn’t like them,” he said, his voice softer.

“Oh no, I love everything. I just didn’t have any way to tell you.”

He stepped closer to me, putting his phone in his coat pocket. I couldn’t help taking a step back, hitting the wall. Warmth spread through my body at his closeness.

“Did you know it was me?” I asked, not sure how to react to his proximity and the penetrating gaze that was melting my insides. “That day on the street?”

He gave me a crooked grin, and my legs quivered.

“No.” He stepped further into my space, and I could smell his cologne. It was a masculine scent that spoke of power and strength, and I wondered how it would smell with his skin against mine. My lips parted, and his eyes darkened. “Do you know what happens when someone dares enter my elevator?”

I inadvertently let my head fall back against the wall as his hand rested on it above me. There were so many levels of inappropriateness to this situation, but I didn’t care.

“I may have heard a rumor,” I answered, my confidence returning as I slid my foot up the wall, my knee rubbing against his pants. “But does it depend?”

“On what?” he asked, leaning closer so his body was almost touching mine.

“On the woman.” It was a bold statement, but my body was on fire with need for this man. My type had always been the bad boys. That propensity had landed me in trouble with the last one, and my intuition told me that no matter how put together Greyson Tides looked, he was definitely a bad boy.

His hand moved to my leg, pulling it up higher, and I inhaled sharply. His touch was firm, confirming that my fantasies had been correct, and this man would bring me to ecstasy like no other.

“What are you implying, Miss Brinks?” he asked as his hand rose up my thigh, pushing my skirt higher.

“That you don’t mind my abrupt invasion of your morning routine.”

He reached the edge of my panties, and my heart raced. “I don’t mind interruptions, Miss Brinks, but don’t make it a habit.” He caressed my ass, jerking me against him, my hands going to his chest and loving how hard the muscles were below his clothes.

“And what if I do?”

He dropped his mouth to my ear and whispered, “You won’t like the consequences,” before he let me go.

I fell against the wall as he released the emergency button and looked away. He glanced back over at me just as the elevator door opened. “Next time, leave the thong at home, Miss Brinks.”

He walked off without another word, the door closing and leaving me so shaken I didn’t know what else to do but to push the down button.

---