Page 38 of Deceiving Grier

“I don’t think I would be happy to just watch for long, though,” I told him, my own voice turning husky. “I don’t think it would be very long at all before I rolled you over, buried my dick in your ass and fucked you into the mattress.”

Grier let out a high-keening moan, and I knew he was coming. The sweet desperate sounds of him falling over the edge went straight to my dick. Everything inside me pulled tight, and I came over my hand and stomach.

For a long moment, neither of us spoke. The only sounds from our phones were our fast panting breaths while we slowly came down.

“Holy shit,” Grier finally said, the first break in the silence. His voice was still breathy. “That was fucking amazing.”

I grinned, inordinately pleased with myself. “You liked that?”

“Wasn’t it obvious?” he said, chuckling, then asked, “What about you?” I could hear the faint hint of uncertainty, as if he couldn’t quite believe we’d experienced that together. Maybe he thought I’d been humoring him.

“You have no idea, but I can’t wait until you’re home so I can show you in person.”

Chapter Fifteen

Grier

OliverMackenziehadamasseda fairly extensive library before he’d died. I was no expert when it came to books, but I would have bet money that the titles he’d collected were valuable. While I stood in the middle of Sawyer’s study, considering the volumes packed tight on the shelves, I wondered what Mackenzie’s son, Greyson, would do with all these books once he sold the house.

Selling them would make the most sense, but I also knew from Alistair that he had instructed Finn to get rid of everything in this house, and the only reason any of the furnishings—books included—were still here when we’d moved in was that the real estate agent had planned to use some pieces to stage the house back when they’d planned to sell it. Apparently, Greyson Mackenzie hadn’t been especially close to his father, nor was he particularly sentimental about his late father’s belongings.

Would he toss all these when the school year ended, and Jett, Sawyer and I moved out? And if he was willing to throw them away, would he be equally willing togivethem away?

What difference did it make?I reminded myself. What Greyson did with his father’s books made no difference to me. Except that over the last couple of weeks, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Harry’s shop… and I’d had an idea about the type of store—the niche—that would appeal to the tourists while not relying solely on them or the local community.

I was being ridiculous. I didn’t know anything about vintage books or how to appraise them. Sure, I liked to read, and I preferred old-school books to e-readers, but that was about the extent of my book expertise.

There had to be some kind of course I could take, though. Hell, someone had probably made a how-to-appraise-old-books video on YouTube. Not that any of that mattered, since I wouldn’t be needing to know how to appraise books when I was back in Wisconsin running my dad’s business.

I really didn’t have time for any of this. I should be studying for my midterms. Fiona had sent more work for Dad’s company my way, but I’d managed to stall her for the time being because of said midterms. Not that I believed she cared for one minute if I looked at the reports she sent me or not. She didn’t exactly hide her resentment—not that I blamed her.

She’d been the one working at the business, the one running things while our father had been ill. There’d been no fancy university degree for her. She’d gone to work for my father’s business right out of high school, and any business courses she’d taken had been at the local Community College—night classes she could squeeze in and pay for herself.

Yet, in the end, all the things she’d done to manage the business wouldn’t matter. Once I finished school, Fiona would have to step aside and turn over the reins to me, defer to me, even though I was younger and had never worked at the company—and didn’t want to now.

The fact that my dad wouldn’t turn control over to my sister was ridiculous. Fiona deserved it, and god knew she had been running the place a hell of a lot better than I ever could, but he would never give Fiona his company. She was a woman, and he clung to some antiquated ideal that his business had to go to his son, no matter that I didn’t want it.

I didn’t want to go back to Wisconsin and leave The Square. I didn’t want to go back to a place where I couldn’t be who I was without constantly feeling as though I was letting my family down by being myself.

Both Fiona and I didn’t have a choice. Our father was sick, dying. If I told him I didn’t want to come back, didn’t want anything to do with the business, I feared it would be the one thing to push him over the edge and kill him.

My whole life had been about taking over his business one day, this company that had been passed from father to son for the last two generations. Our family’s legacy, as Dad would remind me over and over.

I shoved away the depressing thoughts. For now, I had my excuse to avoid the business and Fiona to cover my absence, and in the meantime, I studiously avoided my father’s calls.

On the upside, without worrying about extra work from my family, I had more time to spend with Sawyer.

Since coming back from Seattle, things between us had been good,reallygood, and I didn’t just mean the sex. Although, that had been pretty amazing, too.

Whatever was happening between us felt new and fragile, and so we’d both agreed to keep whatever it was we were doing between us. Though, to be honest, I wasn’t sure how much longer that would last. Both of us were getting a bit careless when it came to keeping our hands off each other in front of other people.

Two nights ago, Jett, Sawyer and I had been watching a movie together in the living room. Sawyer and I had been sitting on the couch at a respectable distance when the movie started, but as time passed, Sawyer got closer towards me until eventually his head rested on my shoulder, earning a strange look from Jett.

As if realizing what he’d done, Sawyer had sat up and feigned a yawn, pretending he’d been drifting off. Whether or not Jett bought his story, I didn’t know.

Later that same night, Sawyer snuck into my room and into my bed, and we sucked each other off.

I wasn’t sure what exactly was happening between us. Things had definitely moved well past just sex and might have even been creeping into relationship territory. Not that I especially disliked the idea. I liked Sawyer,reallyliked him. He was smart, funny and surprisingly thoughtful.

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