Page 8 of Sold to My Best Friend's Dad

She shook her thoughts away and started down the stairs. Clara wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but there were like twenty freaking cases of wine, and they didn’t look light.

“Why me?” she muttered to herself.

Clara struggled to carry the first box upstairs. The last thing she wanted was to drop the box and smash all the glass bottles of wine. Taking one step at a time, she slowly made her way up, occasionally resting the box on one of her knees. By the time she brought all the boxes up, she’d be a sweaty, disgusting mess. She expected to hang balloons or something, not haul heavy boxes.

She set the first box near the kitchen island and headed back for number two. Clara bent down and struggled to heave the second box up off the floor, using the wall as leverage. Then the weight of the box was gone, and she gasped, thinking it was about to fall.

“I’ve got it.”

Clara looked up, right into Grayson’s face. He was wearing a fancy suit, his wild hair casually slicked back. And he smelled too tempting.

“Where’ve you been hiding?”

She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

He easily set the box back on the stack. “Leave these. I have staff to haul this shit.”

Grayson stared at her, using a finger under her chin when she looked to the ground.

“You were pretty confident last time you were here. Remember that? You said you didn’t need time to think about our arrangement.”

Then she remembered the price issue.

“You’re not paying enough.” She wanted to bite her tongue. If anything, it made her sound like a mega-whore.

“Did we agree on a price?”

She shook her head.

“Then I wouldn’t worry about it,” he said. “Tell me, Clara. What’s the going price for virgin pussy?” He pressed her against the wall, his hand going down between them. Grayson cupped her pussy through her dress with his big, strong hand. “How much is this going to cost me?”

She let out a staggered breath. A flash fire of need made her cunt pulse under his fingers. She dropped her weight lower, needing more, craving this side of him.

“Or will you give it to me for free?”

Yes, yes she would, but then she remembered her mother. She needed this money more than he knew.

Clara attempted to get out of his grasp, but he caged her in, an outstretched arm to each side of her head.

“Two hundred thousand. That’s what it’ll cost you.” With that kind of money, she could pay off her mother’s mortgage, handle all the bills, and leave her enough of a cushion that she wouldn’t need to work so hard.

“Done.” He removed his arms and adjusted his tie. “Stay for the party. I’ll try to find time to get it all on paper.”

Stay for the party? That was the last thing she wanted to do. April had a new flame and Clara knew no one who was coming. This was a nightmare.

****

Grayson had to mingle with his stuffy clientele when all he wanted to do was get Clara alone. It was all he could think about. His guests had to repeat themselves several times as he couldn’t get that scene out of his mind. When he’d touched her, she hadn’t pushed him away. She responded, her pupils dilating, and her breath catching.

“Mr. Blackwell?”

“Sorry, how are you enjoying the party?” he asked.

He needed to get his head out of the clouds and entertain his company. A lot had gone into this night, and he needed to make the most of it. He began to mingle, shaking hands, and forcing himself to laugh at their jokes. If anything, Grayson could put on a good act. It had gotten him this far.

During dinner, he could see Clara at the other end of the room. His daughter had ditched her, which she often did when there was another new boy in her life. Once the meal was coming to an end, the live music began to play, the wine made its appearance on silver trays, and the mood lightened. It was the perfect time for him to excuse himself and not be noticed.

He found Clara leaning against a wall in the hallway. As he passed by, he whispered without stopping. “My office. Now.”

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