The Roommate Arrangement Page 13

  I can’t look at him without feeling pain. "Leave me be."

  Unfortunately Grayson's not a listener. He’s an attention-seeking, nosy asshole who won’t let me out of this room until he’s satisfied. I don’t want to be alone with him a minute longer because I know he’ll say something that’ll make me forget, and I’ll go back to being his dumb little pet. My spine hits the bag as he steps forward.

  "You’re way too weak to use this," he says. "It’s a hundred and fifty pounds. You’ll hurt yourself."

  Even when Grayson's trying to help he's an asshole. "Thanks for the compliment. Get out of my face."

  His voice and eyes soften. "I don’t like how we left things yesterday."

  No shit. He’s lost his fuck-buddy. "There’s nothing to say, Grayson. You used me. I hope it was worth it."

  He touches my cheek. "I wouldn’t be here if I didn't give a damn."

  I duck away from his hand, heart hammering as his gaze refuses to let me go. "Doesn’t change that you sought me out to punish someone else."

  His lips twitch. "Don’t hate on me because you’re mad at him."

  Am I punishing him? "I couldn't care less about the stupid decisions my brother makes. You hurt me."

  "I didn’t mean to," he says in a low voice. "Yeah, I got a kick out of fucking his sister. I won’t lie about that, and I’m not going to lie about wanting you either."

  Just what I deserve for trusting him. "Go to hell, Grayson."

  I step to the side.

  He blocks my way. "I told you what I wanted from you since the beginning."

  "And you’re fighting to keep a fling that'll only last a few more weeks." The gravity of it sinks into my bones.

  I’ll never see Grayson again.

  He won’t be there to fuck the breath out of me. Take me into his arms. I'll never be able to listen to his voice boom through my back. The joy will be gone because I’ll never kiss him again. If I ever meet another man and he holds me tight, I’ll wish it were Grayson.

  He’ll disappear like smoke into air the moment I leave this ranch, and I’ll have nothing but memories. Maybe it’s easier to go now—before it gets worse. How bad could it get?

  Grayson takes my trembling hands and folds them against his chest. He’s always so warm. "You bet your sweet ass I will fight hard for you."

  I want to slap the hand away, but a piece of me breaks. Grayson grasps my chin. He brushes my lips in an almost-kiss that sends my nerves ablaze. "Fucking you is the only thing I look forward to anymore. I don’t want this to stop."

  Me neither.

  I begin to speak, but Grayson steals my words. Heat flushes all the rage with every tender kiss. His mouth hardens with my moan. I stumble against the wall of the small boxing room. Grayson smooths my thighs, a wicked grin illuminating his face. "I love it when you wear these."

  I look down, breathless. "My yoga pants?"

  "Yeah," he says, snapping the band against my thigh. "They’re sexy as hell."

  Dimly, I’m aware of Ditzy next door. When I stalked in at five a.m., he was pressing barbells, looking haggard and unhappy.

  The door’s ajar.

  He could walk in on us any minute.

  Grayson bites my lip, thrusting a knee between my legs. A sensation like electricity ripples over my skin. He gives my pants another loud snap, and my head turns at the door.

  My lips brush his ear. "Someone's in there."

  "Nah. I told Titus to fuck off."

  He scoops me into his arms. I dig into his muscles. "Stop it!"

  Laughing, he carries me into the mercifully empty weight room, and I breathe a sigh of relief that hitches into a gasp. Grayson lays me on a bench, his grin stretched wide. He throws my legs around his waist and grinds into me. Walls of mirrors surround us. "Here?" I glance at the equipment.

  "Yeah. It’s perfect. I’ll watch us fuck from four different angles."

  A thrill hits my chest, sending my pulse into a gallop. "All they’d have to do is walk in."

  "Then I’ll be quick." Grayson plants a kiss on my open mouth, his skin blazing with need.

  The protest on my tongue flies away when he rolls my pants down. They snag at my hips. He pulls them in fast jerks, dragging my panties along. My back arches against the flat bench as he pins my legs to the side, trapped together by the clothes rolled around my ankles. His devilish grin fills me with a consuming heat, and then he strokes my folds. My head tips to the bright lights as stars erupt behind my eyeballs. I watch him from all sides as he fingers me. Two thrusts, and I’m wet enough for him. Grayson takes his time, though. He rubs my clit, his lips hovering just above kissing distance, and watches me lose my shit.

  "I like this sports bra, too." Grayson snaps the wide straps pulled tight over my shoulder.

  He sinks into me. I'm somewhat aware of his other hand tugging at my bra. I look down in a haze of desire. My bra is pushed up my chest, tits bulging under the band. Grayson sucks my nipple, biting my skin as he lashes the hard bud.

  I almost lose my balance on the bench, and he catches me, laughing.

  I don’t like the tease, but Grayson lives for torturing me. He alternates, leaving each nipple wet and swollen. He hovers out of reach so I can’t twist my fingers in his hair or stroke his length, which I can feel pressed against me.

  A distant sound makes me jump. Grayson pays no mind. He slides his thumbs in the waistband of his shorts and bends over. His cock rises, a thick flag already beading with precum. His hand wraps around it, and he moves my pinned legs to one shoulder. With his finger, he guides his length to my tightly clenched pussy.

  I have nothing to grip as he shoves. His eyes, narrowed with intensity, hold me still as he pulses in and out. He goes so fucking far that I bite my lip. Grayson seizes my chin, his rough gasps blowing across my lips as he pushes down. My spine grinds into the bench. I watch him in the mirror, his ass tightening with quick jerks. He fills me so deeply I can’t keep from screaming. My moan bounces off the mirrors, and then Grayson straightens. He yanks the pants from my ankles, cock throbbing, and moves my legs to his waist. His hands hook my thighs, yanking me into him as he drills hard enough to make my voice tremor. My walls tight, he glides through me, striking home with a resounding smack. His weight bears down as he angles me to take him deep. My body arches as Grayson spreads a greedy palm over my tits. He fucks me ruthlessly. I can’t process anything but my core buzzing with pleasure.

  And he was only supposed to be a good fuck, but he catches my jaw again and he kisses me like I’m the last woman on Earth and nothing else matters but us. I scream into his lips as the orgasm sets off. A crashing wave of bliss is followed by ripples of relief, and then he moans, a deep, guttural sound, filling me with warmth. My hand unsticks from his neck as his gaze finds its way to mine.

  He smiles, still lost in desire. "I’ve got a surprise for you."

  "Can’t we stay in bed and fuck all day?"

  "I have other plans for you. Get dressed and meet me out front."

  The sun blankets Los Albos Ranch with inescapable heat. I walk down the hall and look through the living room at the rippling blue waves of the pool, where the guys are hanging out. There’s still no trace of my asshole brother, and that’s fine with me.

  My phone buzzes with a notification from a sports website I follow.

  SHAW AND PARDINI FEUD AT 5-YEAR PARTY

  I grit my teeth as I read the article, but there’s nothing about my brother’s affair or the pregnancy. A blurry picture of Grayson screaming at Henry accompanies the column. A quick at the comments underneath tells me the fans weren’t happy about the fight.

  Grayson waits outside the front door, dressed in an aquamarine V-neck and khaki shorts. He lifts his shades and gazes at me as though he didn’t have me naked in his hands thirty minutes ago.

  After we fucked in the weight room, I did the walk of shame to the bathroom and took a long shower. It was a miracle no one saw us, and I wrestled with the guilt of having no regrets
.

  Grayson's smirk brings it all back. "All right. Let’s go."

  He leads me toward the garage, which opens with a click of a button. The door rolls up to reveal a fleet of sports cars parked side by side. Cars with Italian names that cost more than my life is worth. He stops at a bright red beauty, an Audi.

  "Are we going somewhere?"

  Grayson unlocks the doors and gestures inside. "No, I just wanted us to fuck in the car. I’m kidding, Saffie. Yes, I’m taking you out."

  Is this a date? "You’re a goddamn rule-breaker."

  "Yes, I am. Get your ass in."

  I slide into the seat, nerves pricking my stomach as Grayson closes the door and walks to the driver’s side. The garage roars with the engine. Wind whips my hair as we glide out of the ranch and speed through suburban streets.

  "Where are you taking me?" It’s way too early for dinner, so he must be treating me to brunch.

  "Just a little place I thought would cheer you up."

  "Really?" My heart melts. "You don’t have to do that. I’m fine."

  "Yeah, whatever. You can repeat that until you’re blue in the face, but I won’t believe you."

  I gaze at the road ahead. "What is it?" I ask, excited despite myself.

  "I’m not telling. Jesus, girl. Be patient."

  I’m dying to know what it is. I badger Grayson with guesses, but he denies them. It’s not a movie, lunch, or anything involving food. He nixes ice skating. I’m running out of date ideas. "Is it a strip club?"

  His laughter roars over the wind. "I don't think Santa Barbara has one. No, Saffie. I wouldn't bring you to a titty bar. Stop guessing; you’ll find out soon enough."

  Excitement ramps in my chest as he slows along a street filled with shops and boutiques. Are we going to a lingerie store? A sex-toy shop?

  He takes my hand, grinning as he leads me to a glass door with a cartoon cat stenciled in white, and the words "NEKO CAT CAFE."

  "You brought me to a cat cafe?" The hell is that? "What is it?"

  "You’ll see."

  We walk inside. The foyer resembles an average coffee store with a blackboard of cute, themed drinks. Under a case rests a display of Japanese desserts, and T-shirts with the cafe’s logo sit on shelves.

  "Welcome!" A young girl in a black smock greets Grayson. "Do you have a reservation?"

  "Yeah, I’m Grayson Shaw."

  "Oh, of course." She ushers toward a door, through which there’s a room with structures fashioned like trees. A walkway spans the entire place. A ginger cat sleeps on a ledge nailed into the wall. The sound of a dozen tiny feet and screeching meows blasts my ears as she pushes us through, and suddenly a horde of kittens surrounds my legs. I grab a ball of black-and-white fluff and hold him to my heart as the kitten raises its head, blinks, and screams.

  The attendant shows us the jars of treats and food. Grayson buys a few bags and tosses the kibble on the floor like he’s feeding chickens. I laugh so hard I startle the kitten. He launches from my chest.

  A dozen insistent voices follow Grayson as we wander into the cafe, which has tables and chairs, poofs to sit on, blankets, a library, and millions of cat-friendly perches. Felines of every breed and color imaginable bound from their hiding places and make a beeline toward Grayson.

  "I can’t believe you brought me here. This is…" I give the room another once-over. "So freaking cute. I love it."

  "Good," he says in a gruff voice. "I rented the whole place for a half hour."

  I gather a large calico in my arms. It seems very interested in my hair, and I follow him to the bundle of blankets.

  Grayson sits, avoiding the cluster of kittens. An impatient black-and-white cat stands on Grayson's thigh, clawing at the bag. "Jesus, be patient!"

  He holds the treats out of reach, laughing. The calico flows into my lap like liquid. She flops on her side, begging for a belly rub. My fingers glide through her black-and-orange fur. She closes her eyes in contentment. Her purr rumbles through my hand.

  It’s the most relaxed I’ve been in weeks, and I have Grayson to thank for it.

  His bag of treats is empty, but the cats sniff around him, clawing at his shirt. A gray kitten licks his thumb.

  "How’d you know I’d like this?" I ask.

  Grayson grudgingly scratches its chin. "You told me you loved animals."

  "That’s amazingly thoughtful." A tortoiseshell places its two front paws on my knees. The calico hisses softly, and the kitten bounds away like a rabbit. God, it’s so cute. "Thank you."

  "You’re—" He sneezes. The kittens scatter away from him. "Welcome." He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Damn. I think I’m allergic. Don’t worry; I’ll tough it out."

  I laugh as Grayson picks up a shrieking cat—can’t be older than five months—and makes baby noises.

  "This is what you need. A kitten photo op to show the world you’re not just a sex-crazed psycho."

  He sneezes on the cat, who jumps and leaves a six-inch gash over his arm. "Damn it!"

  "Did you have pets as a kid?"

  He shakes his head. "My sisters and I couldn't agree on what we wanted, so my parents never got us one."

  "My dad loathed animals. Mom wasn’t a fan either. I did a lot of volunteering for shelters. The plan was to study animal biology at UC Davis, but that didn't happen."

  "Yeah, but there’s still time."

  Is that why he brought me here, to remind me that I have options?

  Am I more than just a fling?

  My heart clenches. I can't bear not knowing the answer to that question for another second. Pressure builds behind my eyes when I think of leaving, but I can’t tell him. This is only temporary. We're supposed to keep a distance. Grayson was clear it’d never last.

  Then why take me on a date?

  He winks at me through red-rimmed eyes and blows a kiss.

  Heat flushes my cheeks as my fingers curl in the calico's dense fur. The more time I spend around Grayson, the more my heart breaks with his kindness.

  11

  Grayson

  Twitter loves the cat cafe date. My fans lose their shit over the paparazzi photos of me being mauled by a dozen kittens, but they’re not pleased with Saffie. They think I’m crossing a line by dating Henry’s sister. Most have read the article about my five-year party. The fact neither of our reps has denied the rumors speaks volumes.

  And now Henry’s fans are out for blood.

  They tag me with highly imaginative death threats if I don’t leave her alone. Others blast me for causing drama so close to the World Cup. I’m an asshole. A traitor. A source of constant negative PR.

  Grayson should be traded.

  Yes. The moment I read that comment, a smile spreads across my face. It’s what I’ve been working for, and the idiots don’t realize they’re playing into my hands.

  I thumb through the vitriol of my Twitter feed with less enthusiasm than I expected. I’m still using her. I looked her right in the eye and denied it. Going through with a big PR blowout feels too cruel. I can’t do that to her, and I don’t want to.

  Kris, however, is a ticking time bomb.

  I stand, gazing at the desk where the letter is tucked out of sight under a pile of mail. Seeing her with that baby bump was like a cattle prod to my ass. I need to deal with this. No more running. Wouldn’t it be better to know now? Face the music?

  If I’m the father, Kris will be in my life forever. I’ll never have a moment’s peace. And if I’m not, she’ll be Henry’s problem.

  My heart kicks a frantic beat as I slide the envelope from the pile and turn it over. I clutch it in my hands like a fucking bomb, sliding my finger under the curve. There’s a tear—

  The door knocks and opens before I can toss the envelope aside. Saffie pauses in the doorway. "Did I interrupt something?"

  As long as it’s her, I don’t mind. I blow a ragged sigh and gesture for her to join me. "You’re supposed to wait until I say come in. Were you hoping you’d catch me touching
myself?"

  Saffie edges into the room, wearing a white tank top and a pair of dark red shorts that expose creamy lengths of thigh. Faint yellow bruises smudge the skin on her tits where I bit her. The memory of giving them to her fills me with fire.

  She crosses her arms. "The guys wanted to know if you were interested in a game of foosball."

  "So they sent you."

  Saffie’s dark eyes shine with mischief. "I volunteered." She touches my waist and bounces on the balls of her feet to kiss my cheek.

  Heat infuses with my blood like a fast-acting toxin. I fall under her spell, my arms wrapping around her waist. She crushes her mouth against mine, and I’m halfway between ripping off her shirt and throwing her on the bed until I glimpse the fucking letter.

  I stop with a tortured sigh.

  "What’s wrong?" she says.

  "Nothing." I force a smile.

  She steps back, frowning. "Tell me."

  My hands fall from her sides. "You don’t want to know."

  "Yeah, I do." She takes a seat on my bed, her legs hanging from the height.

  Fuck it.

  I grab the envelope sitting on my desk and sit next to her. She peers over my shoulder. "What is it?"

  I take a deep breath. "Paternity results for my ex’s baby."

  Saffie inhales sharply. "Jesus."

  "She’s suing me for child support. The fucking kid hasn’t come out of the womb yet, and she’s already lawyering up."

  "So why haven’t you opened it?"

  "Scared, I guess." I’m man enough to admit being a father terrifies me. "I don’t want her in my life, but it’s not like I hate children. You know?"

  She smiles. "I understand."

  I glance to the letter. "Anyway, I better open it. Delaying is causing my lawyer all kinds of problems. I’d rather nip this in the bud now."

  "Do you need me to leave?"

  "No."

  Sighing, I turn the envelope over, and glide on the smooth surface. My finger catches the seal and tears the paper. The folded note slips out. It’s a single letter. I open it, scanning the wall of text for a familiar block of words.