Stolen (A Bad Boy Romance #2)

I knew he didn’t, even if he did want one thing. My body.

“Are you seriously going to stare at me like that all night? It’s going to get creepy,” I joked, making sure to keep my voice light.

He didn’t find it funny. Instead, he just turned away clenched his jaw and adjusted his jacket.

I’d never seen the man in anything but a tie and suit before and looking at him now was so strange. He was wearing a pair of jeans, a black v-neck shirt, and a leather jacket. It was casual, for him, but still completely put together and totally sexy. Not to mention entirely foreign to my eyes.

All I wanted to do was devour him.

Get it together. I chided myself. I knew it wasn’t the time to let any of my emotions spill out. I couldn’t let him see how much I wanted him, how much I wanted all of him.

I'd never seen this side of him before, and I wanted to explore it. But I couldn’t. If I let any of my walls down it would get ugly.

And I wasn’t about to let that happen.

This was nothing more than an intelligence gathering. Any information I got here would be useful to my uncle, and it would get him off my back. It would get him off my father’s back.

All I had was my father. I didn't have a family like Greyson did. I didn't have people who wanted me to come to dinner, who loved me.

We must’ve been in Severna Park by now, I could tell by the change in house style and the sprawling expanse of yards. It was a wealthy part of the county, but still relatively close to Annapolis and Baltimore. The way the homes grew in size and the yards grew in expanse I knew we were out of the city and into the suburbs.

Damn, these houses were gorgeous. Not every single one of them was a mansion, but they were all well kept and nice. Nothing like the apartments I grew up in. Glen Burnie had nice areas, but I wasn’t in one of them growing up. I looked up at them with big eyes and tried to imagine what life would've been like growing up here.

No, I just couldn’t imagine it.

My mom took off a long time ago, and life with my dad wasn’t exactly easy. He was drunk most of the time and depressed even when he wasn’t. I didn’t want for things, but only because my uncle did send care packages.

Who knew that all his generosity would come at such a steep price?

We pulled into a long drive and eventually ended up at the end of it where a large brick home stood. It wasn’t grand by any stretch of the imagination, but it was large and simple. A two-floor brick home with expansive windows and separate garage.

It was huge to me.

“Home sweet home,” Greyson said, only a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

“You don’t like it?” I asked.

“It’s like anywhere you grow up, I guess. It’s nice enough, but it still feels like a cage.” He shrugged, but I could see the sadness etched on his face. Sometimes I swore I saw behind that projection of who he was to the truth. And it was peeking out. “Mom is great, though, she carries the family. It's hard, being married to the mob.” As if I didn't already know that. But it was more than just that.

I could tell by the look on his face.

There was so much more to it, I could tell that much, but he was just so closed off. I didn’t even know him, and I wasn’t sure if I ever would.

He got out of the car and walked around the side, opening the door for me. I got out and smoothed out my blouse looking up at him.

“You’re sure this is a good idea?” I asked.

“It wasn’t my idea. It was my mom’s. I think it would be a worse idea to disobey her,” he said, but he winked. Any chance of serious conversation was gone. I was only going to get the facade of him, and I knew it.

Greyson was so many things, and I couldn’t pin any of them down. It intrigued me. It made me want him. Hell, I always wanted him, but this was different.

It made me want to know him.

I just wasn’t sure how I was going to convince him to show me any of it. We were stuck in this impossible situation together, and now I doubted he would open up to me. I doubted everything.

“Grey! You didn’t tell me your bride to be was so adorable!” A smiling face greeted us and took me in immediately for a hug. I could tell by the smell lingering on her clothing that she’d been cooking all day. “I’m Greyson’s mom, Maeve, but everyone calls me Mae, and you can too.” When she smiled, her eyes turned into small creases revealing the roundness of her face, her plump body hidden behind an apron and a flared skirt. She looked like every mom I’d ever imagined in my fantasies. A kind smile and a warm house. I never had anything like that, and even now I could feel the pain of it deep within my soul. Soft and warm and just… mom-like.

And she raised a man who probably murdered a hundred men.

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