Chapter 16
Jasmine
“I think this warrants a private discussion,” he says, before dragging me from the corridor. And I know, by the shivers I feel down my spine, that every gaze is on us. He’s usually such a private person but he doesn’t seem to care right now at all.
The study door closes with a hard thud and Mr. Grayson presses me to it. Not fully caging me but letting me know I’m at his mercy. And God, if it isn’t the best feeling I’ve ever known in my life. As if programmed to his scent and heat, my core awakens, damp and ready for him.
My chest rises and falls like I’ve just run a marathon when he bends and rubs his cheek against mine. “I’ve missed you, little bird.”
I throw my arms around his neck and press into him. “I’ve missed you too,” I say, breathing my words into his neck. Such pure longing and love overwhelm me that tears knock behind my eyelids. “No one’s ever thrown me a party before.”
He continues rubbing his cheek against mine, his hands coasting over my sides, my hips, my back.
As if he can’t stop touching me. “That should be a crime. Sophie said you always stopped her. I told you, Jasmine, you have to let people spoil you, show you what you mean to them. There isn’t always a price. ”
“I know there isn’t. With you.”
“You do?”
“Absolutely. I’m just...not good at accepting it.” My fingers tremble as I lightly trace the shape of his upper lip. “I can’t believe you went to all that trouble, and you were just about to throw them out.”
“One word from you and they will be gone.”
“What, all of them? Even your brother and his very pregnant wife?” I say, loving the fact that I can touch him like this.
“Especially Zayn. He’s been strutting around like a bloody rooster since Sasha got pregnant,” he says, pushing into my clasp.
“Then you can cut the cake with me and Sophie, drink a little champagne, do whatever rituals you two do for your birthday bonding, then come to my bedroom after you sing her a lullaby. Sound like a plan?”
“That’s so tempting,” I say with a sigh. “I’ve never been in your bedroom. Though I’ve stolen peeks at it, from time to time. I’ve had a dream or two about being stuck under you in that enormous bed.”
My admission makes his gray eyes blaze. He pins me against the door with his lower body, his erection a brand against my belly. “So, when you’re stuck under me, were you trying to get away?”
Molten dampness gushes at my core. “No, I was only pretending to want to get away. So that you’d take me roughly.” My whispered admission makes the air around us tight, hot.
“Where do you get these filthy ideas from?” he says, eyes dancing with something I don’t recognize.
Heat fills my cheeks. Just a few more hours and he will have all my secrets.
“Here and there,” I say, my evasion a tangible thing between us.
“Does it bother you that I…” I clear my throat, a spot of shame that I can’t budge from the center of my chest, “that I have these kinds of fantasies about you?”
He laughs then and the warm sound is pure magic to my heart. “I love that you spin these things about me, little bird.” He sprinkles a line of kisses down my wrist. “Is that what you want for your birthday then? That hot little scenario played out, in my bed?”
I stretch up to my toes and kiss the corner of his mouth. And it hits me, that he hasn’t still kissed me.
He’s made me come so violently that I nearly blacked out, made love to me as if he owns me, stamped his possession on my skin but he still hasn’t kissed me. “No, I want something else from you.”
His eyes narrow before searching mine. “What?”
“A kiss,” I whisper. “All this time, you haven’t kissed me once. And I don’t think it’s a natural oversight.”
“You think I don’t kiss you on purpose?”
“Don’t you?” I say, pure demand in my tone.
All my insecurities come pouring out of me in a wave.
All the things that I can’t control—like Sophie leaving—make me reckless.
“Is it some generational quirk that I don’t know about?
That you don’t kiss the young pussy you’re losing your mind over? That you save it for someone special?”
“That’s what you think, huh?”
I shrug, my heart in my throat.
“Maybe I haven’t kissed you because you’ve been keeping secrets from me. Because you haven’t been a good girl, huh? Maybe you haven’t earned my kiss.”
“Please, Daddy,” I say, pressing my breasts against his chest. “Give me a little time and I’ll give you all my secrets. All of me. Let me earn your trust and be your good girl. Please.”
His eyes flash silver at my plea. For one heartbeat, I think he’ll deny me, make me ache and wait longer.
Then his mouth finds mine.
Soft. Warm. Sweet in a way I didn’t expect.
My heart just—stops. My breath stutters out of me. All the wanting I’ve been carrying for months, years, pours into the kiss, and it’s better than anything I imagined.
I clutch him, arms tight around his neck, terrified he’ll pull away.
He doesn’t. He holds me closer, chest to chest, mouth moving slow and sure, like he’s memorizing me.
The taste of him floods me—heat and spice and something darker that makes my knees weak. The scrape of his stubble burns against my cheek, and every inch of me comes alive. Skin flushed, ears ringing, chest aching with the weight of it.
A noise rips out of me, too shaky to be a moan, too desperate to be anything but real. I press into him, give him every ounce of me.
We stumble away from the door, still tangled, kissing like the world’s ending. His desk hits the back of my thighs. In a blur, he lifts me onto it, big hands on my waist. My breath hitches as his body pushes between my legs, heat and strength filling every space.
His tongue teases mine. Slow at first, then sharper, a taunt that makes me shiver. When I whimper, he nips my bottom lip—firm, punishing.
“That’s for questioning me,” he mutters against my mouth.
A tremor rolls through me. I take it. I want it. My fingers clutch at his hair, pulling him closer, closer. “Never again,” I whisper, half-dizzy from the taste of him. “I’ll never doubt you again. Not for as long as I—”
“Dad?” Sophie’s voice, sharp and sudden. The door swings open. “Dad, what should I do with the guests? Uncle Zayn’s threatening to come in—”
She spots us. Her blue eyes go wide, and her hand slams over her mouth with a sharp smack.
I rip away from Mr. Grayson, pulse thundering in my ears.
The faint sounds of the party—laughter, clinking glasses, the thrum of bass—spill into the study, but in here, everything freezes.
My lips still tingles from his kiss. The scent of him clings to me, salt and heat, grounding and damning all at once.
Mr. Grayson shifts, his arm pressing me gently back, shielding me behind the solid wall of his body. The protective gesture twists my chest.
“Sophie, sweetheart.” His voice is calm, controlled, but I can feel the tension humming through him, sharp as electricity.
I peek around him, my breath lodged in my throat.
Sophie pushes the door closed with her hip, her hand still on her mouth.
Her muffled giggle escapes anyway. “I knew it,” she blurts, lowering her hand.
“You two have been acting so weird around each other. Jazz for so much longer, and it gave me the ick first. I mean, you’re like so much older than us, Dad, older than her but then I remembered how Jazz doesn’t like most boys our age and…
” She sighs, dreamy, almost relieved. “Don’t worry, guys. I’m happy for you. Both.”
Relief punches through me so hard I sway against Nathan’s back. She’s not furious. She’s not horrified. She’s—accepting this.
Then Sophie claps her hands together, sudden and bright. “This means I don’t have to feel guilty that you’ll be alone when I leave. Because Jazz will be here with you. To look after you. And give you like… whatever else you need.”
Her words crash through the room like a bomb going off.
The air turns heavy, pressing against my chest. The burn of Nathan’s kiss is still on my lips, but now dread sours it, settling low in my belly.
Mr. Grayson goes utterly still. “What do you mean you’re leaving?” His voice is a rumble of thunder. His head turns slightly, eyes locked on Sophie. “To where?”
Sophie blinks, startled by his tone. “To college.” Guilt paints her cheeks pink. “I’ve been prepping all summer, and I worked with a counselor even and—”
“When the hell were you going to tell me, Soph? On a post-it note after you pack up your bedroom?”
My heart lurches. The ache in his voice is unbearable. I feel it in my bones, in the way my stomach drops.
Then his head turns fully, his storm-gray gaze pinning me. The disappointment there knocks the air from my lungs harder than a scream would. “You knew about this? Knew that she was applying to colleges?”
My mouth goes dry. My chest rises and falls too fast, panic clawing up my throat. I nod, because I can’t lie. Not to him.
The heat of his body withdraws even as his gaze peels layers off me. “Forget a few secrets, little bird. I guess I don’t know you at all.”