Page 19 of The Bloodfeather Promise
His possession of me was like heaven and hell fighting for control of my body. Whether the angels triumphed or the demons won was his decision. I let him do whatever he wished, and I was his prize. I loved every second of it. Almost as much as I hated him after it was over. How he treated me the next morning. How easily I was dismissed. Like I was a bit of trash dirtying up his room.
The weight of Greyson’s gaze does not leave me. Not once. It makes me so uncomfortable I can hardly breathe.
“Okay, dinner then,” he says.
“No, thank you. We’ll be pretty busy all day. Holiday weekend, you know.”And give you another chance to break my heart? No, thanks.The sharpness of my voice doesn’t dissuade him. It only makes him more interested.
“I’ll come walk you home when you close.” His head cocks to the side.
“God, no!” My voice has risen steadily by the minute, and now, he might as well say he was personally involved with the drowning of a litter of puppies. My face is hot. My cheeks are probably red as fire.
“You can walk me home, then.” Greyson grins.
My breath hitches at the teasing beauty of his features. Had he grinned at me like that a year and a half ago, I might have forgiven him when he kicked me out of his hotel suite.
“I don’t know where you live.” Even to my ears, it’s a lame excuse.
“Sure, you do.” Leaning close, he murmurs, “You and your friends stake out the beach behind my house every Monday.”
“You own Lullaby Tides?” I stammer, my heart now beating too fast for my tongue to keep up with my head.Get yourself together, Emerson!
“Yes. Are you stalking me?”
“No!” Of all the damned luck. Why did he move to my town?
“Hmm.” Greyson rubs his lower lip. Following the motion, I suddenly wish my mouth was doing that instead of his thumb. “Too bad. How about breakfast? Tomorrow morning before you open. I’m a terrible cook, but I can have something brought in. Or we can meet at the Drip Drop.”
The breath I inhale is deep and steadying. Resisting him is hard. So damned hard. “I’m sorry, but…”
“Hey, no big deal.” With a shrug, he steps back, raking a hand again through that glossy, dark brown hair. In artful disarray, the longer strands on top tumble into his eyes. I long to push them back for him. My hands clench into fists so I won’t. His smile says he knows exactly what I’m thinking. “Got all summer to change your mind, Emerson.”
My stomach flip flops. Whether from dread or excitement, I can’t tell. “You know my name?” Why does my tone sound so…hopeful? God, I’m pathetic.
His eyes drop in a caressing sweep of my chest just as Lacey barrels through the door with our coffees.
“Nametag.” Reaching toward my breasts, which I foolishly believe are tucked safely behind a sleeveless, white, eyelet lace camp shirt, he flicks the bit of plastic with a forefinger. I very nearly choke on another inhaled breath.
He takes my hand, engulfing it within his much larger one. “I’m Greyson, by the way.”
I’m not surprised by the electricity surging between us. It’s the same as I remember, and it leaves me weak-kneed.
Entwining our fingers as if attempting to absorb my warmth, Greyson releases me after a few moments. A tiny frown creases the space between his dark eyebrows then is smoothed out. “See you around, Feather.”
Sliding on a pair of black Ray-Bans, he gives a stunned Lacey the jauntiest of salutes, then sails from the shop before either of us can utter a word.
My poor heart stutters to a stop, hearing the nickname he just casually bestowed on me.Feather? Feather?! Who does he think he is? He has no right to give me a nickname like that. Like we are friends. Or lovers. Nicknames are for people who care, that share affection for each other. Greyson used me then tossed me aside like a toy he’d grown tired of playing with. If I don’t remember that, there’s no hope for me.
When the tinkling of the bell above the door finally falls silent, Lacey faces me. Her mouth hangs open with shock. “Emerson. Oh my God. Emerson! Do you know who that is? Greyson Finch from Seven fucking Seconds. Seven Seconds! I love them! Is the whole band here? Is it just him? Oh shit… I can’t believe this. Shit! Greyson Finch!”
Here comes the moment I bust Lacey’s bubble. She’s starstruck and it’s only Memorial Day. She’ll see plenty of celebrities over the next few months. Maybe not as mouthwateringly handsome as Greyson, but not everyone can be that fortunate.
“You can’t make a big deal about it, Lacey. Treat him like a normal, everyday tourist. Same goes for any star or celebrity you might see. It’s an unwritten code around here.”
I can’t tell her I know for a fact he’s a self-absorbed asshole with a superiority complex. I can’t tell her I know from experience he uses women then tosses them aside like dirty laundry when he’s done with them. Better to keep all that information private. It would only open the door to questions I’d rather not answer.
Lacey throws me an incredulous look, absentmindedly handing over her cappuccino instead of my vanilla macaroon iced coffee. “But the man is a rock god and so damned fine it hurts just looking at him. I could just eat him up!”
I’ll do you one better. I’d savor every nuance of his skin, his mouth, and all the parts I could reach. Sop him up like he was a biscuit in a plate of tomato gravy.
