The Design (16 page)

“Unzip my pants, Cammie,” Grayson demanded with a rough voice.

Our bodies were sealed together, so I had to slide my hand down between us, feeling my own soft curves against his hard chest. My hand skimmed over my breast and my back arched in response. Grayson groaned beneath me, clearly enjoying the way I pressed down against him as my back arched further.

“Now, Cammie,” Grayson urged, digging his fingers into the back of my thigh in a painful show of power.

I bit down on my lip, stifling a cry.

His zipper was easy to find and even easier to slide down.

“Pull your panties to the side,” he said as he drew his fingers to his mouth, wetting them with his tongue while he waited for me to follow his instructions.

I did what he asked, feeling the cool air against my sensitive skin. And then he was there, dipping his fingers inside of me and dragging me down further into my fantasy.

“Let yourself slide down,” he begged into my ear as my eyes rolled back.

This was it. This was the top of the ride. The ascent was over and the impending plunge would ruin me for life. I knew all of that, and still there wasn’t a moment of hesitation as I gripped his shoulders and let my thighs relax. He watched me with rapt attention as I slid down millimeter by millimeter.

“Fuck,” he moaned as I felt his fingers press against my sweetest spot.

“This is crazy,” I gasped, letting my head fall back.

His free hand wrapped around my neck as he kissed down to my collarbone.

“I want you to come like this,” he demanded, taking the reins back into his own hands.

I stared up at the ceiling and begged for more. We thrived off the intensity of the moment, the exhilaration of tugged hair and clawed arms and kissed lips. His rhythm stole my resolve again and again until the windows fogged up, I’d accidentally honked the horn twice, and I’d bruised my elbow on the car console more times than I could count.

The entire experience was dark and frenzied and utterly heartbreaking.

The ride back to the office was quiet and tense. I did my best to conceal the damage to my clothes and hair; but it was a windy day so I hoped no one would pay attention to a little sex hair.

When we arrived back at the Sterling Bank Building, Grayson pulled up at the corner of the block, away from prying eyes.

“Should I go up—” I asked at the same time he spoke.

“We should probably go up separately.”

I nodded, fumbling with the obnoxiously fancy door handle. There were at least thirty knobs and whistles on the damn door and I was left pressing anything that could possibly get me out. He chuckled and leaned over, popping the door open for me.

“Wait,” I said, suddenly growing curious about something. “What made you give me that note this morning in the conference room?”

“Do I have to give a reason?" he smirked.

I laughed. “Yes.”

“I liked the way you looked,” he replied with a cheeky smile.

“No,” I shook my head. “There's more to it than that.”

He sighed and looked out the window for a moment before meeting my eye with a look of steely resolve.

He shrugged, trying to downplay the sincerity of the moment and then he finally answered, “You’ve always been someone who
interests
me.”

I smiled. “Ah, now that makes sense. I am a very interesting girl.” I winked and he shook his head, pretending to be annoyed with my joke.

“I’ll see you up there in a just a minute,” he promised before placing a kiss on my cheek.

It was such a gentle move—a chaste kiss on the cheek wasn’t Grayson’s style—and yet it was enough to send me walking away from his car with a smile, wondering what in the world would come next.

…

Fifteen minutes later, Grayson stepped out of the elevator with two brown paper bags. I leaned back in my desk and squinted to read the black writing on the side of the bags, but I didn’t get the chance to make out the logo before he dropped one of them onto my desk.

“Thanks for doing that errand for me during lunch,” he spoke with a formal, impersonal tone. “I figured you didn’t have time to eat.”

Like mine the night before, his acting was mediocre at best, but Peter and Mark were both busy on the phone and Alan was too preoccupied to care that Grayson was giving me lunch. Still, it made me smile all the same.

“Thanks. That errand worked up my appetite,” I said.

He nodded and turned toward his office while I examined the brown paper bag.

“Lawry’s Deli” was printed in black cursive and when I opened the top of the bag, there was a note scribbled on one of the deli’s napkins.

“I ordered you my favorite sandwich. Hope you like it. PS You left your jacket in my car. I think I already know a way that you could earn it back. - G”

Chapter Eighteen

I was at my desk on Wednesday morning, brainstorming ideas for my secret design submission, when my work phone rang so unexpectedly that I almost jumped out of my skin.

I stared down at it with wide eyes. Someone was calling my work phone. The last person that had called my work phone was Grayson’s mom. So, chances were Grayson’s mom would be on the other end of the line.

The phone rang again and Alan’s beady little eyes sliced over to me.

“Are you going to answer that phone or let the client get your voicemail? Jesus Christ.”

“Oh, right.”

I reached for the receiver and crossed my fingers beneath my desk.
Please don’t be Grayson’s mom. Please don’t be Grayson’s mom.
I liked her, but the only update I actually had for her was that I was currently doing the horizontal tango with her son.

“Hello?” I asked hesitantly.

“There you are slutasaurus rex. You didn’t answer your cell phone so I thought I’d try you at work.”

Brooklyn. Oh, thank God.

“
Is
that annoying boss beside you right now? Is that why you aren’t talking?” Brooklyn asked when I didn’t respond.

I peered over at Alan from beneath my lashes and slyly lowered the receiver volume a few notches.

“Oh hello, Mr. Duncan,” I spoke on a whim.
Mr. Duncan?
I didn’t know a single person with the last name Duncan.

Brooklyn laughed.

“Cough once if you want me to kill him. Cough twice if you want me to get Jason to kill him.”

“I'm not sure about either of those options, Mr. Duncan,” I droned, peering over again to see if Alan could hear her.

“Sorry, those are your only choices. Oh, wait, hold on.” I heard Jason mumbling in the background and then Brooklyn dropped the phone into a box of tin foil—or so I assumed since it felt like my ears were were going to fall off from the loud scraping sounds.

“What are you doing? Jeez, that’s so loud.”

“Oh, sorry. I’m doing the dishes. Jason wanted me to ask you about going to get a drink tonight. Could you come after work?”

I glanced down at my pile of work and sighed. The work would be waiting for me tomorrow. I deserved a night of fun and I hadn’t seen Brooklyn in a few days.

“Yeah, just send me the details.”

I hung up the phone as inconspicuously as possible. Alan cleared this throat.

“Was that a personal call, Cammie?” he asked with a shrewd glance.

I had a brief moment of panic before composing myself. “Yes. It was my gynecologist. He wanted to discuss my latest pap smear. Do you want to know how the cells on my cervix are doing?”

Alan visibly blanched, as most guys tend to do at the mention of the dreaded pap.

“No. That’s all right. Just get back to work.”

“Okay, but I can’t stay late tonight. I have another pap smear after work.”

He grumbled and nodded, scooting a half inch away from me.

Well that was easy.

How many pap smears could one person conceivably get in one month? Fifteen, twenty? "Dammit, inconclusive again!  Well Alan, it looks like it's just pap smears through June."

…

Later that afternoon, I asked Beatrice if Grayson was available. His office door was closed and he was probably deep into his design work, but I hadn’t seen him all day. I just needed a few minutes, just to assure myself that whatever was happening between us wasn’t over yet. A vision of our lunch the day before flashed through my mind and I blushed.

“Oh, let me see,” she answered, picking up her phone and buzzing through to him.

“Mr. Cole do you have a moment?”

I couldn’t hear what he asked on the other end, but she looked up at me and replied, “Cammie.”

I twisted my hands together, knowing I wouldn’t handle his rejection well, but then Beatrice hung up and waved me forward.

“Go on back,” she said with a smile before turning back to her work.

I stepped forward and turned the knob, aware of my pulse thumping wildly as I pushed the door open. Grayson was behind his desk, encased in the light streaming through the window behind him. His lips were twisted into a smirk that did nothing but pull me in closer.

I made sure the door was secured behind me, twisting the lock so that the audible click punctuated Grayson’s steps toward me.

“I was just about to ask you to come in,” Grayson said as he approached me. One hand wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer, and the other tilted my head so that he could dip down to steal a quick kiss.

Was he going to touch me in his office, where anyone could hear us?

His confidence took me by surprise, but I let him pull me closer until our hips met and I could wrap my hands around his neck.

“I haven’t seen you all day and I wasn’t sure how busy you were,” I spoke as our eyes met.

He smiled and bent to kiss me again before replying, “Very busy.”

I hummed against his chest and inhaled the scent I’d come to love. His suit was softer than I expected and I could feel his toned arms beneath, keeping me pinned against him.

“I’m busy too. The CEO here is a real tyrant,” I said with a cheeky smile.

He chuckled and let me go, taking a step back to lean against his desk. His eyes slid down my body and I felt far too exposed in my fitted pants and jacket.

“I’m going to get drinks with Brooklyn and Jason tonight,” I blurted out. I wanted him to come, but we were in that gray area that accompanies situations like ours. I couldn’t just come out and tell him that I wanted to see him later because that’d be too obvious. I had to make it seem casual so that I could try to hold my cards close for as long as possible.

He nodded and crossed his arms. “What time?”

“Six.”

Ask if you can join. Ask if you can join.

“Should be fun. Jason’s a good guy.”

He wasn’t going to make this easy.
             

I nodded and took a minuscule step closer.

“Why don’t you come with us?”

I wondered if he heard how shaky my voice sounded.

He smiled. “I’d like that.”

I bit down on the side of my bottom lip, elated that he hadn’t turned me down.

“Does Brooklyn know about us?” he asked.

I swallowed. “No. Should she?”

He shrugged. “I just wanted to make sure I played it right.”

I took a minute to mull over our options and then I came to the conclusion that telling Brooklyn about us this early would be a bad idea. Surely she’d have her own opinions about us, but I was still trying to figure out where we stood on my own. I didn’t need her influencing anything yet.

“So, it’ll just be a
friendly
happy hour,” I said with suggestive smile.

He reached out and dipped his finger into the waist of my pants so that he could pull me toward him. I had no choice but to comply or I’d have tripped forward over my feet.

“What if I can’t fake it later?” he asked, letting his hands drift up to my bare neck.

I closed my eyes and tried to come up with a response. Voices from the office drifted through the door and goose bumps blossomed beneath his touch. His left hand trailed up around my chin and brushed a few tendrils of hair behind my ear.

“Maybe we should kiss right now and get it out of our system,” I suggested selfishly.

He laughed. “Somehow I don’t think a kiss would do it.”

I opened my eyes and took a step backward.

“You’re right, I'd better just get back to work,” I said.

Grayson laughed and reached out for me again, twisting us around so that the back of my thighs pressed against his desk. He pinned me there, held my neck, and dipped me backward.

I twined my fingers together around his neck to keep from falling back as he kissed me and slipped his hand beneath the hem of my blouse. My stomach quivered as he skimmed over my bare stomach, blazing a trail of desire as he went.

“Grayson!” The intercom speakers blared through the room and I jumped away from him. “You have a meeting with Walters in fifteen minutes. If you leave now, it’ll take you about ten minutes to get to his office.”

The intercom cut off but my face still heated as if Beatrice had actually walked in and caught us in the act.

“Oh God, that kiss was a terrible, terrible idea,” I said, pushing him away so that I could straighten my blouse and pants.

He laughed and shook his head, already en route to a small bathroom to the side of his office.

“I like playing with fire,” he said, meeting my eye in the mirror. "And I don't have any intention of stopping."

I watched him straighten his tie and suit jacket in the mirror. Every single one of his features was sharp and ready to deliver a killer presentation. His pants however were sporting a noticeable bulge, one he needed to attend to if he hoped to walk through the office without causing a scene. I smiled at the knowledge that I’d been the cause of it.

“You have my number, right?” Grayson asked, reaching down to splash some water on his face and then dabbing it dry with a hand towel.

“I stole it from Brooklyn’s phone a while back,” I admitted.

And by “a while back”, I mean when I was eighteen.

“Good,” he said, coming out of the bathroom and collecting a few papers from his desk. “Text me the info for drinks. I’ll be there.”

…

“Have a good meeting with Grayson?” Hannah asked as I refilled my coffee in the kitchen an hour later. Since leaving Grayson’s office I’d been
very
productive: I’d managed to check an email, pick up the phone only to forget who I was meant to be calling, and then sip two cups of coffee while recreating our various make outs in my head.

I glanced up at Hannah with a confused glance.

“Uh, yeah, I guess the meeting was good.” I was hoping I sounded nonchalant, but the words came out more defensive than I’d intended.

She narrowed her eyes. “You know he doesn’t have meetings like that with anyone else. You must be pretty special.”

“I think you’re reading too much into it,” I shrugged. "It's boring mentor-mentee stuff, just like your meetings with Alan."

Hannah stepped closer so that she could reach for a mug of her own. The fact that I had to quickly duck so that the cabinet door wouldn’t whack me in the face didn’t faze her.

“Well it seems funny, because I tried to schedule a meeting with him yesterday and Beatrice said he wasn’t available for a few days, yet you just waltz right up to his office and he lets you in. Strange, right?”

I set my mug down on the counter, crossed my arms, and turned to Hannah.

“What are you getting at, Hannah? Just say what you want to say.”

Her stern expression broke into a smile, a deviously placated smile. “What?” She laughed. “I was just wondering if there was anything you wanted to tell me. Y'know, as roomies.”

I shivered at the way she said
roomie
. We’d only lived together for a few weeks, and I hadn’t seen this side of her. I thought her attraction for Grayson was a silly crush, but as she stared at me from over her coffee mug, I had a feeling I’d underestimated her obsession with him.

I’d definitely be locking my door from now on.

I offered her a fake smile. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about. Grayson is my sister’s friend and that’s probably why he doesn't mind meeting with me. He doesn’t want to piss her off,” I laughed. My entire demeanor seemed glaringly transparent to me, but I hoped Hannah couldn’t tell.

She tilted her head and watched me for another few seconds before a small, genuine smile unfolded across her lips.

“That’s right,” she nodded. “I forgot how close they were.”

I inwardly sighed. “Oh, yeah, like family,” I continued, embellishing the details. “They’ve known each other for years and she’d kill him if he was rude to me—listen, I gotta get back to work. Alan has been on my case all day.”

She nodded as if she understood. “Oh, I bet. I’ll see you later,” she called after me, sounding far more chipper than she had a few moments before.             

As I left the kitchen, I made a mental note to play it safer with Grayson while we were at work. If Hannah suspected something, there was a good chance that she wasn’t alone. There definitely couldn’t be any more late night sneaking around in our apartment. I couldn’t put the blame on my sister if Hannah found Grayson standing in our kitchen in his skivvies.