“Greyson.”

“Now go up on your knees and elbows,” he says in a roughened whisper.

Oh, god . . . it’s really happening.

Tremors seize my entire body. There is no man I would trust more to do this with. No man I’d ever really wanted to do this with. And I want him to take every part of me, f**k every hole in me with his cock, his fingers, his tongue. He slips his fingers over my folds again, testing my pu**y first, dragging the moisture up the crack of my bu**ocks.

“The wetter you are, the easier this is for me to thrust in.”

“I’m so hot. Grey, the way you looked at me when I was feeding you was foreplay enough.”

“Melanie, look at what you do to me.” He rubs the head of his enormous erection between my ass cheeks and presses the mounds together so I feel the friction. I feel every pulse in his long cock, how hard and throbbing he is. He uses the swollen head to spread my pu**y juices up to my ass and teases me with them. I’m quivering on my elbows and knees. Quivering.

“Greyson . . .” I moan. The anticipation is killing me, the feel of him so close, but so far. The scent of him dizzying me, while my eyes can’t see him and feel starved.

“Shh, baby I want this more than you do,” he croons behind me as he strokes a hand down my spine, caressing every dent of my backbone. “I fantasize about it. I fantasize about doing this with you. To you.”

I hear the ripping sound of a condom and lick my lips, staring at the wall in front of me with blurry eyes, my body throbbing for his, my pu**y thrumming jealously.

“Will it hurt me?” I breathe fast and shallow as he presses the crown lightly into the rosette of my backside.

“Maybe . . .” he taunts as he trails his long, blunt fingers up my spine again before seizing a fistful of my hair and pulling my head back to whisper in my ear, “Or maybe not. With you and me, there are no givens. No rules. Just what we want. And I want every inch of you. I want what you’ve given no one. This f**k is mine.” He sweeps a hand to squeeze my br**sts, pinching the sensitive tips of my ni**les. Arrows of pleasure singe me, both my pu**y and the place I want him to penetrate clenching tight in response.

“Just take it, Grey,” I gasp.

His thick answering murmur feels like a caress to me. “You bet your ass I will, princess. You don’t tease a man about wanting a thick, long dick up your lovely, tight little butt without getting what you’re asking for. Loosen up now, I’m lubing up.”

I mew as he presses his thumb into me, and then . . . something thicker, so much larger, so much harder. Deliciously creamed up and pushing into me.

“Push back against me, baby, that’s it, f**k that feels good, princess,” he cooes, softly, as he advances inch by inch, stroking a hand down my abdomen to caress my pu**y.

“Oh god, Grey!” I scream, and I turn and bite down on my own arm, moaning as he stretches me so much it’s almost painful, but it’s too pleasurable to be painful and I like it too much, the way he does it slowly, the way he caresses my swollen sex to wet and prepare me, the way he leans over and starts to graze his teeth over my nape, primal, like a werewolf wanting to bite me.

I’ve never felt so full, so aroused, and so emotionally vulnerable. I’m panting to get the words out . . . “Please, Greyson. Move. Fuck me.”

He grabs my h*ps and eases out, and he says something that shoots a new heat like a lightning bolt through me. “As you wish.”

As you wish.

My favorite movie; and he knows it.

The words, in that movie, mean so much when Westley whispers them. He whispers them right now as I give him my only fantasy.

By the time he starts up a slow, careful rhythm, I’m emotionally unwound and physically unraveling. Tears stream down my face, of pleasure, happiness, and the complete barrage of sensations he fills me with.

There’s a bang on the door, and my body tightens and quivers in reaction, shaking and waiting as I hold myself utterly still. He keeps his pace and remains thrusting, pulsing in me when he stays inside, easing in and out with improved ease every time. His hands tremble on my hips, and I can feel both our bodies straining, our breaths jerking out of our lungs.

“Hey, Romeo, will you answer your goddamn phone!”

Whoever is shouting outside the door is yelling L-O-U-D.

Greyson groans softly but doesn’t stop, and my pulse is thundering in my veins, my heart on the verge of exploding. Oh god please not now.

“Hey, ROMEO!”

Greyson rubs my pu**y, breathing hard in my ear, whispering, “I’m not answering Derek until you come. I’m not pulling out of you until you twist and thrash, right now, in orgasm. Now what do you say when I tell you to come, Melanie?”

I moan as his sexy voice spills through my body, the pleasure so absolute I can’t breathe, think—I can only feel taken and plowed and full and his.

“I don’t know,” I moan.

“What do you say to me, princess?”

He rocks his h*ps again, gently, as he circles my cl*t in delicious rubbing circles with two fingers, and I sob As you wish and when I turn my head and he French-kisses my mouth, slow and headily, I come, harder than ever, every piece of me shattering, body, mind, soul, heart, crying softly as I feel him jerk powerfully inside me. He clenches one arm around my waist and pins me to his body, exhaling hard as he comes with me.

When it’s over, we don’t move.

The pillow is wet and I’m quietly sobbing. Greyson pulses, alive, inside me, and I don’t want to lose him. Still in me. Pulsing in the most delicious way. Still somehow hard. I groan when he pulls out and rolls to his back, reaching out to grab my face, searches for any hint of discomfort on my face.

“These tears. Good or bad? Good or bad, baby?”

“Good,” I croak, rubbing my cheek dry with his palm. “Was it good for you too?”

“God, good’s not even a word for it,” he says tenderly, then he takes the rest of my tears with his lips, his eyes all liquid as he kisses my nose, my mouth, in some quiet male gratitude over what I just let him do to me. Over what we did, together.

I’m shaking a little, and he murmurs, “Stay here, princess.” He stands to get rid of the condom and clean up, then he comes back and pulls me against him, brushing my hair behind my ears, his big body cradling mine. “That live up to how you imagined it would be?”

My chest is so full that I’m certain I’m going to burst. “Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined a guy like you or how you make me feel.”

“Princess, the kind of shit between us isn’t normal.” His lips press grimly together for a moment, his eyes darkening. “The way you invade my thoughts sometimes doesn’t sit too well with me, Melanie. In my line of work distractions don’t go well.”

“Is that what I am?”

“A distraction? You’re my f**king obsession. Not even a fantasy anymore. You’re going to be the death of me, princess, and I don’t give a shit anymore. I just don’t want to be the death of you.”

Fierce, glimmering eyes hold mine as I process his words.

Someone knocks on the door again. “Hey, BOSSMAN! Code 104. Repeat one-oh-four!”

He clamps his jaw as he seems to recognize what that means, then he stands with a vicious growl and slams a fist to a wall.

I swallow and roll to my back, my chest heaving as I try to recover. “Is that Derek? Is he drunk?”

Greyson grabs his clothes and this time yells out his frustration as he smashes his fist into the wall as he passes.

He comes out from the bathroom and slips into his slacks and a clean white button-down shirt but doesn’t even bother to close it as he heads to the door. He slams the door behind him, and I lay here, trembling, exhaling hard.

What we did was . . .

Oh god.

I leap off the bed and go to the bathroom, clean up, splash some water over my face, then I slip into something old and comforting. A T-shirt that I pull out when I’ve had my worst days.

It seems my sixth sense is right.

Grey comes back and grabs my forehead and sets a quick kiss there, then looks at me with liquid hazel eyes, warm and apologetic as he kisses my eyelids. “Go to sleep, I’ll be back as soon as possible. Derek will be here in case you need anything. He’ll drive you anywhere, keep an eye on you for me.”

I think I make a noncommittal movement of my head, but when he leaves, I scream into my pillow over our ruined evening.

I’m not hungry, but I’m an anxious eater so I have some cereal, then I watch TV as I try to calm down my raging senses. I reorganize my drawers. I even stop and turn the locks of all my windows and doors when the familiar fear starts creeping in. It’s late when I fall asleep in bed, waiting for him to come back.

But in the morning, Greyson calls to tell me he’s got things to take care of and he won’t be coming back anytime soon.

♥ ♥ ♥

PANDORA IS HAVING a field day with this; I should’ve known better than to mope at the office.

“He leaves in an unspecified emergency,” she’s telling me as we walk to work with our Starbucks, “he gives you diamonds like on the second date. Who does that? Guys who have mistresses, that’s who. Guys who can’t parade their girlfriends freely across town because their wives will find out.”

“Wow, you’re bitter, girl.”

“Imagine if he does have a mistress! You just had anal with the guy.”

“I would not change it for anything, anything.” I sip my coffee and it’s so hot, I almost scald my lips and have to blow air through the slit. “Look, he was called away but he’ll be back. I know he will.”

“When? Your birthday’s this weekend.”

“So? Who cares about my birthday when . . .” My voice drops, and I whisper, “He’s the One. He is so the One that when I’m with him, I feel like pinching my own arm to see if it’s real. And yet in all this time, Pandora, not once have you been happy for me. Why? Why are you being such a f**king party pooper?”

Pandora stops walking in the middle of the sidewalk and just gapes at me.

Which forces me to come back and plant myself at her side to explain.

“You’ve said every bad thing you could think of and then some,” I remind her. “You want me to talk to you and want to be encouraging, but guess what? All you make me want to do is not tell you shit because you judge and you judge harshly, Pandora. Nobody likes being around people like you.”

She blinks, then scowls and starts walking again, her face downcast and her voice apologetic. “I’m sorry I’m not Brooke.”

“I don’t want you to be Brooke, I want you to be happy for me,” I clarify. “Or at least, like, only half as mean!”

“Bullshit, you want me to be Brooke, and guess what?” She stops and grabs my arm so that I stop with her, looking at me with eyes that glow fiercely with determination. “I’m sorry I can’t be like your best friend forever but she’s f**king gone, Mel. So text her all you want and wait two hours for her to answer because she’s too busy with a real man and a real baby and a real life! I’m the only real friend you’ve got right now and I’m trying to watch out for you.”

“Thank you for watching out for me, but what you say hurts me and you don’t realize it. It hurts my optimism. It f**ks up all the hope I have for us—for me and him. Did you know that I feel awful every Monday when he leaves? Did you? I have this strange paranoia that I’m never seeing him again and every Monday at the office you only make me feel worse. Like I’m not worth him returning to.”

I wait for her to answer, but she doesn’t answer, so I go on, “I get what you’re trying to protect me from, but it’s too late, Pan. I’m already falling in lo—”

“Shit, don’t say that! Don’t. Fall.”

I plunge my fingers through my hair, close to pulling it off at the roots. “God, please, for your own health, tell me the name of the guy who made you like this!” I beg her.

She hesitates, scowling down at the sidewalk for a moment. “Look him up in the Guinness Book of World Records under World’s Greatest ASSHOLE,” she mutters.

“Just tell me his name so we can go make a voodoo doll for him or something!” I cry.

She groans and clutches her stomach. “I can’t. I can’t say his name.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s f**king everywhere and it drives me insane. Insane! I won’t speak it. Ever.”

“Pan,” I say softly, but she shakes her head.

“Look, I’m sorry for spoiling your fantasies, but I’m being realistic here and you’re going a thousand miles an hour, Melanie. You meet the guy, you get jewels. He tells you his driver is here for whatever you need and the dude is following you—” She signals to where Derek is clearly driving around the block. “You have kinky, wonderful sex, then he disappears. And you don’t question this? You meekly wait for a call? Where’s the Melanie I know? The Melanie I know has ants up her butt and she wouldn’t take orders from some dude she just met. Your birthday is two days from now. For the first year in your life, you have nothing planned. You have to celebrate. Period.”