14. I’d Prefer You Didn’t and Said You Did
14
I’d Prefer You Didn’t and Said You Did
ALICE
Despite the million and one offerings, I hadn’t had a drop of alcohol tonight.
Nope, I was stone-cold sober, mesmerized by the lines of his chocolate-smudged lips when I kissed Greyson as if my life depended on it.
His hesitation lasted only a moment, and then something between a purr and a growl rumbled in his chest, and the man moved. Still vaguely sticky hands came down on my arm and neck as he rotated to face me on the bench, lips moving in sync with mine. I couldn’t bring myself to care.
Because Greyson Hart was kissing me back with just as much frenetic energy as I was throwing at him.
Each movement was urgent. Each kiss was a little harder, a little rougher, a little more demanding than the last. Part of me had hoped it had been a fluke—my reaction to him on the beach that day. Evidently not.
One warm palm dropped to my thighs, and as his fingers wrapped around my leg, a satisfied rumble emanated from his chest when I parted them for him. Heat bloomed from my thighs to my neck, every inch of my body responding as he devoured me.
At some point, it swapped from my kiss to his. Taking me captive bit by delicious bit. Grey set the tone, the pace, the intensity, and I was so far from complaining as my breaths grew ragged. Somehow, he straddled the bench and hoisted me onto his lap in the next movement. Just like that, he took ownership of this kiss—of my body.
I loved it.
Legs parted, I settled over his groin, wrapping my calves around his back as his legendary strong arm got an entirely new meaning.
Dizzy and panting, my hands finally raked through that perfect head of dark hair as his free hand slipped under the flimsy sage dress I picked up downtown, and a whimper escaped my lips. Every glance, every internal admission that he was as obnoxiously beautiful as the magazines claimed, every subtle hand at the low of my back, and bickering match came back.
Only the memories didn’t send me running. I’d spent years of denying the truth of it. Under all the animosity, I—at least physically—wanted what I couldn’t have. And we finally hit the boiling point.
Because he was right here.
Not only could I have him— I did .
Greyson’s thick, straight hair was silky between my fingers, the powerful lines of his back like a handle as my fingers dug into his muscles. Strong fingers pressed into my legs until he wrapped his hands all the way around my thighs, inching higher. I needed him to. Needed those fingers to release the ache coiling in my core. Needed his mouth to ravage me entirely.
Breaking the kiss, Greyson kept our foreheads together, heady breaths filling my senses as he said, “We do this at your pace, baby.” When I nodded, he accepted my next desperate kiss before saying, “This wasn’t part of the plan. We can’t erase intimacy once it’s started.”
“Shut up and kiss me,” I breathed back.
His brief smile would have been infectious had he not swallowed mine in the next heartbeat. “That all you’re looking for, princess?”
“For now.”
“And later?” Another bruising collision of lips and teeth, his fingers tightening their hold on me, sending a fresh wave of lust through my body. Triumph rolled through me as his cock strained against his pants. For years, his infuriating self-control felt like a prison wall, trapping the world away from the man. The Titan, in all his glory. For it to falter because of me… that was intoxicating.
“Our house is full of football players,” I pointed out.
“Our yard is full of football players,” he countered before pulling my lip between his and giving a teasing pull.
“The staff’s laundry room entrance should bypass that.”
“Ahhh,” he rumbled, “You were listening.”
“I’m always listening, Grey,” I panted.
“I fully intend to use that to my advantage.”
“Only an idiot wouldn’t.”
“Alright, clever girl, lead the way.”
I gave one quick nod before stealing his mouth, then unwinding, embarrassed to remember this beach was probably well within view of the partygoers despite the setting dusk. Grabbing his hand, I led us down the beach at what I hoped would be seen as a leisurely pace but was probably much too rushed to be so. Glancing over a shoulder, I checked to make sure no one was watching—save for a smirking Jax, who nodded in apparent farewell—and led him through the tall beach grasses toward the side path the staff used.
“You have the most exquisite ass,” he declared conversationally. Choking on my laugh, I glanced over my shoulder to find a satisfied curve to his lips, eyes scraping over my body. With a shrug, he added, “Always wanted to tell you that.”
“Might’ve caused an HR issue.”
“Maybe,” he agreed, smirking. A stabbing pain shot through my foot, and it was mostly Greyson’s hold on me that kept me from falling as I jerked back.
“Ouch!” I barked, scowling through the near darkness at the arch of my foot, exposed by the sandals they’d picked for this outfit.
“What?” He breathed, concern heavy in his tone.
“I stepped on something—” My words turned into a whoop when he scooped me right off my feet. “You intend to make a habit out of this?” I questioned with a laugh.
“Five years of PT finally paying off,” he said with a coy smile. “Now, if you could stop getting into trouble, I have other skills I’d like to demonstrate with these hands.” Grey carried me through the laundry room entrance and into the kitchen, where he promptly placed me on the counter. Standing between my legs, I gave him a little squeeze with my thighs, keeping my hands where they were looped around his neck as he brought his mouth to mine.
Slow. Meticulous. As if we had all the time in the world, and nobody would notice our absence.
“Alright, give me your foot.”
Snorting, I shook my head as he pulled away. “Oh no, you’re one of those ? I should have known.” His only response was a sardonic glare that would put all of my brothers to shame collectively. I burst out laughing, but the sound cut off abruptly when he dropped to his knees, hands on my thighs. “Oh,” I breathed. “You’re one of those .”
“Do you know how badly I want to dip under this damn dress and taste you?”
Dead . I was dead. Six feet under and seeing nothing but stars. Somehow, despite all of that, I managed to shake my head. The intensity in his eyes had my belly doing flips, every inch of my body alight with his touch, the need he’d built on that bonfire bench. There wasn’t enough time to contemplate what changed or when—maybe it was the way he defended me and took care of me, or perhaps this was all a long time coming; I just knew I wanted this man on his knees for me.
“For two years, you’ve tempted me with these flimsy little things, always prancing around the office, swishing your hips as you walk away,” he growled, hands on my legs. Nonsense, of course. “That outfit you wore to the Kentucky Derby had me so bent out of shape I took an ice bath when I got back to the estate.” We’d taken that trip to network with a new acquisition. I remembered the blush dress as well as the back of my hand because I’d never felt so…feminine. Unexpected tears welled in my eyes.
“I don’t understand,” I admitted. Why the hell did he remember that?
“Sometimes, you keep threats at arm’s length.”
“And I’m a threat?” I breathed, the words barely audible as he moved both hands to the leg in question.
“To my sanity and our working relationship? From the day you sat at that table with my brother.”
It felt like the mental anvil you left in a confession booth, shrouded by sworn secrecy, heavy as though I’d pried it from him.
Impossible , my brain argued. I’d been a gnat buzzing too close to his impeccable hair for years. An annoyance. Not temptation.
Taking his time, Greyson grazed those firm fingers down my leg until he hit the leather straps wrapped around my calf. Eyes never leaving mine, he drew one away and then the other.
His lips twitched as he unwound them bit by bit. “Attraction is a cruelty when circumstance prohibits it.” Sentence punctuated by an audible wince, he grimaced down at my foot, sucking all that sex appeal out of the space as he muttered, “Christ, what’d you do?”
With a pained sigh, Grey rose, straightening to his full height and moving for the sink, where he washed his hands thoroughly, eyes drifting my way from time to time. All I could manage was remembering how to breathe. He ducked out of the kitchen, muttering about the mud room, leaving me to my own company for a moment.
Suddenly acutely aware of the stinging in my skin, I glared at the slice across my foot. Dark crimson leaked in a steady stream, and I glanced over to my now stained heather brown sandal.
“Dammit, I liked those,” I complained, earning a chuckle from Grey as he reentered the room with a first aid kit in hand.
“I’ll buy you a dozen. Just sit still.”
“ There’s Mr. Boss man,” I drawled dryly.
“Shut up, you like it,” he teased.
Did I? Oh god, I might like it.
He didn’t leave me a whole lot of time to think that through because he lowered to his knees again and had me wincing as he examined it. The disgruntled wrinkle in his nose made me grimace in anticipation. Instead, I leaned back on my palms and decided to stare holes into the ceiling.
“You always want to live in California?” he asked as he slid my dress up and tucked it under my body weight.
“No,” I answered honestly. “But when you grow up in a town like Mistyvale, it’s kind of an anywhere but here philosophy.”
“Noted,” he said simply. “Avoid the last frontier.” There was a searing sting and a tug that had my eyes watering.
“It’s not all bad,” my voice came out a little tighter.
“Had your heart set on marketing?”
“It sounded fun.”
“With your analytical mind, I would’ve taken you as a data analysis girl.”
“ Boring .”
“But you’re good at it.”
“It lacks the human interaction I wanted.”
“Past tense?” he asked casually as another stabbing pain shot through my foot, and I bit my lip to keep from whimpering.
“Turns out I’m exceptionally good at protecting grown men’s egos,” I teased.
When Greyson stood, I released the breath I’d unwittingly been holding, only gasping in enough air to answer his questions. “The best distraction you could think of was interview questions?”
He licked his swollen lips before shaking his head gently. “No, but the other one wasn’t particularly conducive to watching what I was fishing out of your foot. Would’ve been a hard mission to accomplish with my head between your thighs.”
Fucking troublemaker . “Thanks again.”
A solitary brow arched. “Again?”
“First, my head. Now, my foot. What the hell was in there, by the way?”
He huffed a chuckle. “Shell. Broke into little fragments—I’m sorry I couldn’t get ‘em all at once.” He tossed the pieces into the sink with a little sandy clink and then rewashed his hands before stepping back between my legs. “Can we pick up where we left off?”
“I have a feeling I’d prefer you didn’t and said you did.”
Mouth popping open, I whirled toward that familiar teasing tone, and tears flooded my eyes for an entirely new reason.
Max , in all his glorious, dark-haired, impeccably styled Max-ness , stood on the threshold. My momentary annoyance at being interrupted vanished as quickly as it appeared. Flying across the space, I hurled my arms around his neck, breathing a sigh of relief as he lifted me off my aching foot. Grey cleared his throat, and as I peeled away, I was embarrassed those tears had escaped down my cheeks.
Palming at them, I said, “Grey, this is our Max. Maxi, this is my?—”
“Handsome, empire-crushing husband ,” Max finished with a devilish smile, his brown eyes glinting as he rotated my body to his side.
My watery laugh betrayed exactly how stressful these last weeks had been. Whether or not I let myself acknowledge that.
Greyson stepped forward, his expression softening as he extended a hand. But it was his next words that threw me off my axis. “Welcome to the Hart family, Max.”
After that, the evening passed by in a blur of martinis and more fancy food. Only this time, Grey was Velcroed to my side as we led Max around until we found Paxton hanging out on an enormous outdoor sectional with a handful of his new teammates, all shootin’ the shit.
His words, not mine.
To my simultaneous disappointment and relief, I did not end up sleeping with my husband.
Instead, I passed out on his shoulder when the house had emptied of all but our four collective siblings. Evidently, Leighton accepted Arthur’s offer to drive her home around midnight, which left Grey, Pax, Ollie, and Max getting to know each other. At some point, I woke up, rubbed at my eyes, knocked back Grey’s glass of water, and curled up like a cat on his lap.
The man slept like that. Sitting up. On his back patio, with the roar of the ocean as our lullaby. Or at least, he claimed he slept, though the dark circles under his eyes had me questioning that.
When I demanded to know why he didn’t wake me, he simply supplied, “You looked peaceful.”
Those were the words in my brain as Jax turned our SUV into the business district. Hell, those were the words in my brain as I made myself a latte in the break room. I’d just poured a pretty little foam flower—a byproduct of your big brother giving you a job in his coffee shop—when the telltale chatter of women spilling the tea broke through my hypnosis.
I turned to find Rory and Hollyn rounding the corner. Up until the whole engagement fiasco, I would have said these two had been as close to friends as I’d made in the city. Nothing substantial—mostly weekday coffees or lunches. But their silence these last few weeks spoke volumes.
Apprehension made my feet feel uneasy, so I smiled at them. Hollyn, with her wild auburn waves, caught my eyes and grinned back. “Well, if it isn’t Mrs. Hart herself.”
“Morning, ladies. How you been?”
“Not as good as you, by the sounds of it,” Rory responded, tucking her mousy brown bob behind her ears.
Before I could formulate a coherent response, Hollyn gave me a roguish smile as she put her lunch in the fridge and said, “I gotta say. You had me fooled. I thought you hated Greyson.”
“Hate and love are very dear companions,” Rory pointed out, smiling playfully my way, “Aren’t they, Alice?”
I thought about how quickly those years of sworn hatred vanished beneath the caress of his skilled fingers. His reassuring words while I hid from the daylight.
“Doesn’t she know it,” Max drawled as he came in behind them. He was tagging along today to fill Greyson’s open three o’clock, acting as a consultant for our cybersecurity. It felt a little like bring a friend to school day to my nostalgic little heart. Grinning, he said, “But damn, if you two don’t make one hell of a couple.”
Hollyn’s navy eyes roved over Max, and I couldn’t help but chuckle. In her dreams. Even if he swung that way, I wouldn’t let him within a mile of her. Max and I avoided fair-weather friends like the plague. Either you were all in or out with us, and I liked it that way. Quality over quantity was perfectly fine with me.
“I mean, you’re both so generous; it just makes sense,” Rory pointed out helpfully, shrugging her shoulder like that would be a given.
I actually had to stop myself from cackling at that description.
Okay, yes, he’d been disproportionately kind to me since we struck our deal. But I was his wife on paper, ally personally, and now a necessary roommate. The last few weeks aside, generous wasn’t the word I’d use to label Greyson Hart. He conquered businesses like it was a sport and was fearless when it came to slicing off dead branches so new ones could grow.
Ruthless? Brilliant? Strategic? All yes. Generous? That had yet to be determined.
He viewed me as his responsibility now—of course, he’d look after me. Yes, the physical chemistry could scald my organs, but that didn’t entirely erase two years of irritation…did it?
Seeming to sense my internal aneurysm, Max asked, “Now, this I gotta hear. Alice played this whole thing close to the vest. What do you know of Grey’s generosity, Ms…”
“Rory,” she supplied with a cheeky smile, happily rushing to take his hand. He introduced himself to both women as the two of them led us out of the break room and into the fishbowl.
“I’d like to hear that myself,” I said, flashing what I hoped was a demure smile.
She jerked her chin at Hollyn, explaining, “I mean, he does all kinds of thoughtful things. For starters, her Aunt worked for the company, too.”
“Worked?” Max clarified. Suddenly, I had a knot in my stomach and looked around to make sure nobody else was within earshot. Staffers were busy at their desks, Ollie was laughing by the printers, and Greyson was pacing the length of his office, gesticulating with his hands like he was on a rather heated phone call. I peeled my eyes from sex in a suit and turned back to my present company.
“Trish was diagnosed with breast cancer last spring. Stage four-b. Before the summer was up, she had used all her sick days. She’d only been with the company for a few months before they found it.” She cleared her throat, looking a bit uncomfortable, and explained, “Mr. Hart kept her full salary rolling while she went through treatment and told her to stay home and heal.”
Eyes watering, I didn’t fight my sympathetic smile. “God, I’m sorry to hear that. Why didn’t you say anything?”
She gave a one-shoulder shrug. “It wasn’t my story to tell, but he paid her full salary right up until she passed away after Christmas and then called my uncle and insisted on covering the cost of the funeral. When Uncle Brad went to arrange a payment plan with the hospital, they told us it had been taken care of. Greyson refused to confirm it was him, but I mean…” she shook her head, tears welling, “who else has that kind of money?”
I turned my head up to his glass wall, smiling weakly as he made his way through the door to overlook his kingdom. “He never told me that,” I admitted gently.
“Not his story to tell,” Max echoed sagely. “Not so Hartless after all.”
“No,” I breathed, locking eyes with the man now leaning on the balcony and offering a smile I hoped he knew was authentic. “He’s not.”
“ Heartless ,” Rory giggled, breaking the wall around us. “Clever.”
Max set his fourth espresso down with a little clink, leaning back to stretch his arms over his head. Grey had joined us for an hour so that Max could bring him up to speed before he had to excuse himself to sit in on a meeting with Oliver and Reggie. I would never understand how he tolerated the man as well as he did.
The wink he’d shot me as he slipped out the door had me smiling into my fist, elbow propped on the table as Max narrowed his eyes on the screen again.
“Keep your pants on in the office, Alice,” he teased.
“Shut up,” I countered with no real bite to it, leaning back to fiddle with the cross hanging around my neck.
“You wear it on your face—that’s not my fault. You’ve been the smitten kitten since he walked in the door after lunch.” Max had been busy assessing our security holes all day, jotting notes down on his laptop for things to change and ways to fortify the company. Pieces of it were understandable with my limited experience, but others went right over my head. “Am I one of the third-party consultants you guys will skewer if those reporters make a comeback?”
Rolling my eyes, I said, “Obviously. Top of the lineup.”
“Excellent. We live for drama.”
“But for real. What do you see?”
“Security aside, nothing overtly concerning beyond what we discussed.”
“And on our personal servers? Any elusive trusts or shell companies?”
“Still skeptical even after you jumped in his bed?”
So close, but so far. A pang of need shot through me as I remembered the feel of his solid body between my legs last night. “Love covers a multitude of sins, but even marrying into it, I’m not na?ve enough to pretend a family like this doesn’t have secrets.”
“Eh, nothing we want to discuss unless we’re home.”
I nodded, sliding the cross along its chain as Max tracked the movements. “Good.”
“What is that?” he asked, canting his head.
“What is what?”
“The cross around your neck.”
“Well, Max. There’s this entire demographic of our population that believes the son of God?—”
“Fuck off, smarts,” he said, throwing up a middle finger. “The necklace. That’s the one from Grey?”
“Yeah, why?”
With a jerk of his chin, he asked, “Can I see it?”
“Sure?” I responded, more a question than an answer. Handing it to him, I added, “I’ve wasted hours of my life looking for a seam or an SD slot and came up empty. I’m sure it’s some kind of tracker,” I shrugged, “but otherwise, it’s just a necklace.” His glare was intended to silence me, so with a sigh, I complied, watching as he thoughtfully rotated it in his fingers. Equally frustrated and curious, I asked, “What are you looking for, you weirdo?”
Running a thumb along the long edge, Max narrowed his eyes. “Yahtzee,” he breathed and broke it in half with a flick of his thumb.
“ Hey —” I croaked, but my protest was cut short because my cross wasn’t a pendant at all.
It was a flash drive.