Chapter 7
JILL
“So, you’re Jill’s boss, correct?” Mom asks.
Grayson answers this question with the same confidence he’s had during the last thousand. From the moment we sat down, he’s had a target on his chest. It wasn’t anything I hadn’t prepared him for, and he hasn’t shown any sign of being annoyed. I wish I could say the same.
What started out as innocent enough enquiries into his life and his story has quickly turned into low-blow shots. He’s weathered them well, not so much as blinking when the judgment started. I’ve chalked that up to the confidence that I’ve witnessed him harness on multiple occasions.
Regardless of whether he’s in a tense meeting with the mayor or giving the small group of us in the office a spiel on workplace expectations, he wields this very specific type of power. That edge of authority that would have intimidated me if he were anyone else.
I can’t pinpoint exactly when I stopped thinking of him as this untouchable God and instead as my friend. All I know is that one day he was my boss with the sharp stare that had my knees shaking if I were in his vicinity for too long, and the next, he was just . . . Grayson.
“Yes. She’s one of the best employees we have,” he replies smoothly.
At the end of the table, Dad nods into his glass of whiskey. “And it isn’t an . . . abuse of power for you to be together?”
“Great question, Howard. I was wondering the same thing. Surely, there must be some HR requirement for this sort of situation,” James says, joining in with a fast clap of his hands. It’s a lame attempt at a gotcha moment.
Grayson doesn’t back down or stumble for words. He speaks with just as much conviction now as he did before the first course and it became a free-for-all.
“I wouldn’t consider it an abuse of power when Jill carries most, if not all, of it between us, regardless of my job description.
” He places his hand firmly on my thigh, and I watch his face as he steals a quick look at me.
There’s a tingle in my spine that makes me shift in my seat, far too pleased with his statement.
“And HR doesn’t have a rule against workplace relationships.
However, we’ve both been briefed on the expectations they have for us in order to keep the office a safe environment. ”
“I think that’s great. Penalizing people for falling in love has always seemed cruel to me,” Kate states pointedly.
James’s following hum is heavy with annoyance. “I’m just looking out for our Jill. We don’t want her getting taken advantage of.”
I lean forward, my thigh muscle tightening beneath Grayson’s heavy hand. The wineglass I’ve been slowly drinking from is suddenly much too light as I take a long swig and set it down a bit harder than I meant to.
“‘Our’ Jill?” I snap, my patience disappearing with a flip of a switch. “You’re insane.”
Mom jumps to action, her gaze stabbing into me. “Oh, let’s not be hasty here. I don’t think James meant it negatively.”
“I think that’s the problem,” Grayson starts, gliding his hand to the inside of my leg as if offering me an anchor to hold on to.
I take it, quickly covering his fingers with mine.
There’s no warmth left in his voice when he focuses on James.
“You’re overstepping. And while I’m fully confident that Jill has no further interest in you, I’m going to speak freely when I say that you need to back off. ”
My head feels like it’s floating.
It’s impossible not to stare at my “boyfriend” as he calmly yet with an unmistakable sharpness levels my ex. Warmth swells through my middle before turning to molten fire that trickles down and down . . .
The pressure from his hand seems to crawl higher up my thigh as I wiggle.
Suddenly, my dress is too tight, and I’m worried that I’ll sweat right through the thin silk.
Opting out of wearing panties for dinner tonight was a conscious choice, considering how obvious they would have shown through my dress.
But now, as I feel the wetness beginning to pool in my core, I’m well aware of what a mistake that was.
My throat tightens. If he moves his hand any higher, he might be able to feel the mess I’m making. Shit, I’m going to be soaked at this rate.
Grayson turns his head and meets my gaze.
His eyes are demanding as they prod into mine.
I swallow, and my throat bounces, telling on me.
He’s too observant to miss the heat I can feel pulsing at my chest and up to the base of my throat.
My arousal is intense, far more than it’s ever been.
Given that we’re currently sitting at a table full of my family members, it’s not the ideal time to be going through this.
Still, I can’t seem to look away. Even if I could, something tells me he’d be forcing me right back into this position, unable to fight off the hot lash of need a second time.
Sweat clings to my upper lip. I lick it away and nearly slide right off my chair to the space between his legs when he shifts.
He hooks his foot around the leg of my chair and pulls me closer to the table.
My lower body disappears from view. His fingers flex hard against my thigh, and then the rounded edge of his pinky glides over my pebbled, flaming skin, climbing—
I snap my thighs shut, trapping his hand. The amusement flickering through his eyes doesn’t exactly settle me. It’s not the subtle, teasing kind. No, Grayson’s staring at me the way I imagine a wolf eyes a lost, juicy gazelle after a sparse winter.
“Please,” James barks. “Who are you to tell me what I can and can’t say?”
Kate sighs beside me. “James, let it go.”
“I was invited here tonight by your family, Jill!”
“My mother hardly counts as my entire family,” I croak, immediately snatching my lip between my teeth.
Grayson pushes my thighs apart, wider than they were in the first place. So wide that I’m nervous my knee is going to knock against my sister’s before he pulls my chair closer to him. My spine snaps straight when he grips my inner thigh tight enough for the skin to pinch beneath his fingertips.
A spear of arousal plunges through my middle. His rough touch isn’t for show. It’s all for me, and we both know it.
“That’s rude, Jillian,” Mom snips.
My sister’s fiancé speaks, though his words are muffled in my ears. “Let’s all just relax. Have another glass of wine and dig into dessert.”
Someone speaks next, but I’m not listening anymore.
My vision blurs when Grayson swipes his thumb over the slick mess I’ve left on my inner thigh.
He smears it around, coating his finger in it.
I want to pull the tablecloth back to watch as he touches me but use every ounce of my willpower to stay still.
Heat drifts across my temple, then the tip of my ear. “Is it dessert you want, sweetheart?”
My wineglass is cold against my skin when I pick it up by the stem and force myself to take a sip. The red wine is expensive but still tastes disgusting. It’s all I have, though. Yet it does nothing to help stifle the wanton desire I feel right now.
“I think it is. That’s why your thighs are so slick, Jill.” Each word is more growled than the last. “You’re nowhere near as hungry as I am.”
Reality frays at the edges when he pulls his hand free and brings it to his wineglass.
With his first finger glistening, he runs it along the rim, smearing my arousal over where his lips have been.
Then, he cranks my internal temperature to dangerous levels by taking the stem of his glass and bringing it up to his lips.
I hold my breath and watch him run his tongue along the same path he just drew before pressing his lips to the rim and taking a long swig of the wine.
Without thinking, I spread my thighs even wider and wait. Time slows as he places his glass down and returns his hand to where I want it. This time, he doesn’t bother with being coy. Every nerve ending in my body sparks to life, sending me jolting as he cups my bare pussy and squeezes.
“Shit!” I curse, my eyes bulging.
My sister lays a hand on my shoulder and leans in front of me, worried. “Are you okay?”
I wet my lips and nod jerkily. “Yep. Yeah, just a shiver. There must be a draft in here.”
“Are you sure?”
Grayson curls one of his fingers and guides it through my lips, spreading me. My eyes cross as I grip the edge of the table and whip my head to the side. It’s hard to focus on his face when he repeats the same motion again. Then, that same finger is drawing a gentle circle around my clit.
“Jill! Truly, are you alright?” Kate pushes, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear.
My boss’s voice joins hers, stoking that unmanageable flame burning bright inside of me. “Do you need to step outside, sweetheart?”
“Maybe that’s a good idea,” Mom huffs. “You look flushed. Are you feeling ill?”
My clit throbs painfully beneath the teasing touch. I fold myself over the table and dig my heels into the floor, pleading tears filling my eyes as I finally manage to focus on Grayson.
Before I can form the words, he’s removing his hand and, with an ease I can’t begin to understand, has an arm around my back to help me up.
My knees threaten to give out completely, but I force myself to stand.
I lean against Grayson’s firm chest and let him hold me, knowing damn well I need the support.
I should be slapping him for this, but goddammit, I can’t.
I’m still so, so aroused, and the last thing I want to do is spout something that’s going to encourage questions from everyone watching us.
I want to get out of here and to our room.
Then, he’ll have a chance to make this up to me.
And if he doesn’t, he’ll pay for embarrassing me like this.
My thighs glide together from how wet I’ve made them.
The steady drip of arousal doesn’t stop, either.
Even now, while I’m struggling to keep from orgasming from mere friction.
I’m not about to give anyone a chance to figure out the truth here.
Grayson seems to be thinking the same thing.
He stares at my droopy eyes for a moment before beaming a kind smile at my family.
“I’m going to take her up to our room. I think she’s just tired. She’s been working long hours these last few weeks to get ahead of her workload. Giving this wedding her full attention has been so important to her,” he drawls.
Kate gives me a side hug before nodding and taking her fiancé’s hand. “Alright. Let me know how you’re feeling in a few hours, Jill. I mean it.”
I manage a nod. Grayson promises that he’ll make sure she’s kept in the loop, and then we’re gone, escaping that godforsaken dinner with the scraps of my integrity in tow.
It’s not after we’ve stepped into the elevator and the doors have shut that I snap. My fake boyfriend hardly has a chance to press the correct button before I’m got his back slamming against the wall. His hands cup my hips, steadying me as I reach up and grab his face.
With an angry, flustered noise, I push up on my toes and kiss him, hard.