“Why were you watching me from across the room? Your wife is with you,” I spit out.
He grabs me by my elbows, stabilizing me. “Stop. Don’t do this. Tonight is important, and for all the work we’ve done it shouldn’t be spent like this.”
“What do you want from me, Grant?”
“Nothing, Bridget. I just want you to enjoy yourself. Did I do something?”
I contemplate lying again to get him to allow me to leave, but at the end of the day, I’m sick of this dance we’re doing. I’m tired of not knowing what’s going on between us. One minute it’s clear that his marriage has been over for a long time, yet the next they look cozy. I’m done with it and I want answers.
“Yes, you fucking damn well did something. You kiss me senseless one day, and the next you show up here looking pretty damn happy with the wife you claim to hate. You tell me. How should I feel?” I pull myself out of his grasp and cross my arms protectively across my chest.
“Bridget, I’m sorry. I never meant to confuse you or make you feel as if I’ve led you on. I’m married. It might be over between us, but legally we’re still together and in the eyes of investors, we’re a team. I can’t confuse people or give them a reason to question the state of the company. Any unrest could result in them pulling funds, and you know that can’t happen right now. Too much is at stake.”
He’s right. I know he is, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. “Then stop doing this. Stop making me feel like there’s a chance when there isn’t.” I turn to find the door to exit but am turned abruptly by Grant’s strong hands.
“I’m just trying to explain why I allowed her to touch me, Bridget. I don’t want her anywhere near me, let alone touching me. You have to know that. This is for appearance only.”
“I get it, but I hate it.” I sound weak and it makes me sick. I’m not this girl. I don’t allow men to hurt me. So why is it different with Grant? “This is a mistake, Grant. I can’t do this.”
“Nothing about us is a mistake, Bridget.”
“Tell me why I should stay in this room with you?” I need him to tell me he wants me. I have to hear him say it.
“I need you. I want you, Bridget. Not a single woman in that room has my attention. Only you.”
All rational thought is gone.
My lips clash with his in a fury. My hands come up to find his face and hold it to mine. We’re simply a man and a woman desperate for each other’s touch.
“I need you, Bridget.” Grant’s words come out raspy and heated.
“Take me.”
With that, my dress is pulled up to my belly and I’m lifted off the floor, his hands under my ass. I wrap my legs around him, pulling his hardness into my core. The sensation has me gasping and him moaning into my mouth. Removing one hand, he unzips my dress and pulls it over my head. My breasts are pulled free and my back hits a wall. Grant lowers his mouth to pull one of my nipples into his mouth. My head falls back on a moan.
“Grant, please,” I beg, needing more, so much more.
He lowers me to my feet and spins me so my back is to his chest. Trailing his hands down my sides, they continue lower until his fingers find my panties and pull them to my ankles. I step one foot at a time out of the black lacy garment. He’s on his knees behind me and I’m shaking, waiting for whatever comes next. His mouth finds my wet center. One swipe and I feel undone. He laps at me over and over, bringing me closer and closer to the edge of composure. I’m panting and desperate for release, holding on to the wall in front of me to hold me steady.
“Come for me, Bridget,” Grant commands before inserting two fingers. My core clenches and release comes at his command.
Standing, Grant places small kisses on the back of my neck. His hands hold my shoulders as he whispers in my ear.
“You are not a mistake, Bridget, and I’m done staying away.” His words send heat through my body. “I need you to understand the position I’m in. Trust me. Trust in us, and I promise one day we won’t have to hide in a closet to be together.”
It’s the only thing I want to hear. He says it so convincingly, too. I want to believe him as I can tell he believes it to be a possibility. The truth is, I know there are obstacles in our way that even he doesn’t have a solution for. There are so many conflicting emotions running through me, but tonight I just want to revel in the fact he made a promise of more. A promise of a future. It’s more than I ever expected and exactly what I want.
I want him.
All of him.
For tonight, I’ll pretend there’s hope for a future.
I wake extra early the morning after the party. Anticipation and nerves will do that. I don’t know how to act. He promised me more.
He wants to be with me. The thought is both intoxicating and sobering at the very same time.
Even five hours later, it doesn’t feel like a new day. It feels as though only seconds ago his breath fanned my lips.
I couldn’t sleep well. Heady visions danced behind my lids until they grew so intense I gave up the pursuit of sleep. Eventually, rest found me, but it was short-lived. When my eyes popped open, it was five o’clock. So now I lie here, knowing I can’t possibly fall back to sleep. I sit up, stretch out my arms, and shake the sleep from my body. Going to the office early could be smart. That way I can be there before Grant.
Thirty minutes and a shower later, I feel invigorated, like a new person. One who can take over the world, or in this case, be strong and indifferent to my boss for the sake of a future. He’s right. The investors have to feel confident. Chelsea is a thorn in our sides, but just for now. It doesn’t always have to be this way. If he said we can be together, then he’ll find a way, right?
The warm fall air has begun to fade, and outside my building, there’s an early morning chill. I have time to walk today, so I will. It’s far but not too far, and today I need to think. I need to feel the air against my face. Breathe in the calm. At this time of day, New York City is empty. A few stray cabs rush by but, for the most part, I’m alone with my thoughts. Within the next thirty minutes, the peace I’m finding will be gone. I don’t even bother putting in my earphones that I usually use to distract and cocoon myself on a busy weekday morning. Today I welcome the sounds.
When I arrive at the hotel, it’s nearly empty. Since we aren’t open yet and the workday doesn’t start for at least two hours, it’s almost desolate in the lobby. I walk to the far elevator—the one designated for the upper floors where our offices are. I scan my key in the elevator pad, it opens, and I ride up. I’m shocked to find he’s already here, but I’m not prepared. With an inhale of oxygen, I square my shoulders.
“You’re here early,” he says. “Again.” His lips spread into a smirk. A lethal one. The kind of smirk that has the potential of landing me naked in his office in boatloads of trouble. Distance. Distance yourself. The words play a mantra in my head. This is not the place to lose your cool.