Skirt Chaser Read online

  Yes, I am, and you love me for it!

  Evie laughed, right as the elevator doors chimed and opened. She stuck her cell back into her purse and entered the elevator, moving to the back, glad she opted for a light dinner. The ground vanished as she whizzed up to the twenty-seventh floor, the windows along the exterior of the elevator showing her just how far up she was going.

  When the elevator stopped, and the doors began to open, she released her death grip on the railing and grabbed her suitcase, rolling it behind her as she looked up, finding warm gray eyes regarding her. She took in all six-foot-two inches of Greyson Crawford. Dark-blond-haired, perfectly muscular, with a half sleeve of gray and black tattoos covering his right arm, he was what boys hoped to be when they grew up. But Grey also had something no other guy Evie had met before possessed, passion…and a lot of it.

  From day one, she knew she couldn’t date a guy like Grey. The kind of man who made women fall in love with him because he was perfectly perfect in every way and then left them in broken pieces later because he couldn’t commit. He was that guy: rich, sexy as hell, and sensually delectable. But he was the type her mother always warned her about.

  Yet she’d agreed to this deal for all the reasons he’d offered. For the past month, she’d craved him in ways that no woman should desire any man. He’d filled her dreams, both at night and during the day. She’d watched the way his mouth moved when he spoke and wondered how those lips would feel against her skin. She often studied his hands when he slid them over blueprints, aching to feel that touch between her thighs. His passion for his work, his detail, his focus, it was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. Saying yes to Grey had been inevitable. With his arrangement, he’d given her a way to be with him with no strings attached. For a limited amount of time that would allow her to protect her heart. She knew what this was and what it wasn’t. They could have a fling in paradise, then she’d return to reality, and life would go on. The perfect fantasy.

  Only an idiot would say no to that offer. She was no idiot. And she was damn certain Grey would give her the best sex of her life.

  “All packed and ready to go?” Grey asked, snapping her away from her thoughts.

  “I am.” She nodded. “You?”

  “Just about,” he replied, leaning against the post separating the foyer and the living room. “I need to print off our boarding passes, and then I’ll be ready to go.”

  “Did you add yourself to my room at the resort?” she asked, pushing the handle of the suitcase down.

  The smile he gave screamed up to no good. “I did.”

  She pondered exactly what the expression could mean when he offered his hand, and her mind cleared of thoughts. She stared at his hand, wondering how the game would be played. Would he take her to the bedroom now? Or take her right here against the wall like he said he planned to?

  Warmth pooled low in her body, and she noted the tremble in her hand. He obviously saw too by the curve of his mouth as she placed her hand in his. He slowly, in a way that almost seemed calculated, tugged her toward him. God, the seconds passed like damn minutes, and her nipples puckered. Skirt-chasing ladies’ man or not, when a guy like Grey looked at you, your body stood up and took notice, and hers was screaming fuck me now!

  Her heart raced, and she angled her chin back, ready for his kiss, when he leaned down and took her suitcase from her, placing it on the floor. “Come on. Let’s get you a drink.” He gave her a wink and a knowing smile she’d grown fond of these past weeks.

  God, how did he control her body like that? One second, she wasn’t even thinking about sex. The next, she wanted him desperately. She exhaled a long breath, watched him head down a couple of stairs which led to an open concept living room, with the kitchen off to the left side. When he glanced over his shoulder with those smoky, smoldering eyes, she wondered if grabbing and humping him was against the rules?

  She slipped out of her high heels and followed him into the living room, noting that while Grey lived on the penthouse floor, and this condo was totally out of her price range, the condo did seem a bit on the small side for a man she knew came from a mega-rich family. Sure, it offered 270-degree views of the Olympics, Space Needle, city lights, and Mount Rainier, but there were places far pricier than this one in the city.

  The space was simply decorated with modern furnishings, with a small stone bar off to the side near the bank of windows, black leather furniture, a large painting on the wall that she assumed probably cost more than her yearly income, and an unlit fireplace—clearly the focal point of the space.

  “Does the design live up to your standards?” Grey asked, stepping behind the bar, reaching for something underneath the black marble countertop.

  “Most definitely,” she said with a smile. “This room is clean, modern, simplistic. It suits you.” She moved to the floor-to-ceiling windows and stared out at the city she loved. “But the view is just…wow.”

  “It’s quite something, isn’t it?”

  The whimsical tone of his voice surprised her enough to glance back at him. His eyes glistened. She didn’t expect Grey to have an appreciation for beautiful things that didn’t involve big tits and a tight ass. “Did you build this building?” she asked.

  He nodded, returning to his search beneath the bar. “It was my very first building.”

  “Really?” She looked back out the window to all the sparkling lights below. Sentimental? Another surprise. “Have you lived here since it opened?”

  “No.” He chuckled, and it was a deep enough sound that it drew her gaze again. “When this building was built, I think I had probably a thousand dollars in my bank account.”

  He placed a bottle of red wine on top of the bar and pointed to it. She nodded. “Please, and I also find you having no money very hard to believe.”

  Eyebrow arched, he uncorked the wine. “Why is that?”

  “Because you’re Greyson Crawford, son of mega-rich Anne Crawford.”

  He reached beneath the bar again then placed two wine glasses on the countertop before he poured the wine into one. “Which is important to this conversation because…?”

  “Because you come from a wealthy family.”

  His lips pressed into a firm line as he began pouring the second glass. “I’ve never used my mother’s money.”

  “Ever?”

  “Well, I can’t say ever.” He recorked the wine then returned to her with both glasses in his hands. “She paid for my education, but beyond that, no.”

  “Oh.” She accepted the glass he offered her, pondering that revelation, wondering if she should believe him or not.

  He sipped his wine and then laughed. “I might take offense to how surprised you look.”

  “Well…” She gave a shrug, knowing she had nothing to lose by telling him the truth. That’s what she liked about this deal between them. She could be herself without worries she’d offend him. “It is surprising, I guess.”

  “A good surprise or bad?”

  “Good,” she admitted.

  “Well, then, I’m glad.” His mouth twitched when he tilted his wine glass toward her. “Because now that you realize I’m not a bastard who would take his mother’s money, and that maybe you don’t know everything about me just yet so it’s best to stop making judgments, we can move on, yes?”

  A laugh bubbled up from her throat. Of all the ways she thought her first non-work-related conversation with Greyson Crawford might go, this certainly hadn’t been what she expected. Charming and sweet, who was this guy? Where was the brutal, cutthroat, skirt-chasing ladies’ man that the women at his office talked about?

  Regardless, she needed to stay on her toes. He’d likely gained a lot of notches on his bedpost using all that charm. Sex with Grey was one thing. A relationship was something else entirely. And not something she wanted to entertain.

  She sipped her wine, regarding him, savoring the woodsy hints. “Just so we’re clear,” she said, calling him out, showing him she wasn’t
easily won over, “are you implying that the way you’re perceived is generally wrong?”

  “No, I imagine that most things that are said about me are likely the truth,” he said, lifting a shoulder. “But there are parts of me that are mine. That the public doesn’t get to see.” He gestured to his living room. “This condo—the meaning of why I live here, why I am proud that when I became wealthy enough, I bought this place to remind myself of how much that meant to me—is something that’s not public knowledge.”

  “Well, I suppose I can understand that,” she said, tilting her wine glass in acknowledgment that he’d proved his point that maybe she didn’t know everything there was to know about Greyson Crawford. At the same time, she also couldn’t forget the things she did know about him. Like, his habit of changing women like he changed his socks.

  “So,” he said, leaning his shoulder against the glass wall, staring at her with those warm, smoky eyes. “What about your company? Did your parents help pay for that?”

  Okay, point for him. She swallowed the wine in her mouth and gave a tight smile, now realizing how dreadfully awful her question was. “My family doesn’t have a lot of money. They’re not poor or anything, but very comfortable living in the middle class.”

  “You’ve risen to the top then with all your hard work?”

  She nodded. “Partly, but I was super lucky to intern with Hilary Goderich.”

  “Ah,” Grey said, a knowing look on his face. “I know Hilary”—he gestured to his living room again—“she’s who did this.”

  “Guess that makes sense,” Evie said, laughing. “It’s probably why I like this space so much. We have very similar tastes, Hilary and I, and it’s why we got along so well.”

  Grey took another sip of his wine then asked, “How long did you work together?”

  “Almost three years,” she explained, recalling some very happy times. “One year interning during school, and then she took me under her wing for two more years before she retired. Luckily for me, a lot of her clients came to me in her absence. Call it good timing, or fate, or who knows, but it made my step forward easier.”

  “Karma,” he said, seemingly so sure of that. “Good things happen to good people, that’s all that was.”

  “Possibly,” she agreed. Or at least she hoped. For a long time, life hadn’t seemed that way. She’d trudged through the murky waters, trying to do the right thing, be the good person she wanted to be, but life often had a way of kicking you in the teeth.

  Maybe Grey was her reward for the bad times she’d been through and survived. Perhaps this was karma, and he was here at the right time to help her get through a hard weekend. That thought reminded her that she wanted to get this show on the road. They’d made an agreement. Hell, she wanted this…wanted him. She drew in a deep breath and then downed the remainder of her wine before placing her glass on the end table closest to her.

  When she turned to him again, she found Grey grinning at her. “So…” she said, pushing past the nerves tickling in her belly. “How do you want to go about this?”

  One brow slowly arched. “Go about what exactly?”

  Now decided about the weekend, about him, about it all, she had no qualms about taking control of the situation to see it through. “Sex. Are we doing that here or in your bedroom?”

  His mouth twitched. “Get right to it, is that what you want?” His eyes danced, softening his usual tough exterior. “All business, then?”

  “This is a business arrangement of sorts, is it not?” she countered.

  His eyes slowly began to narrow on her, seemingly removing everything else in the room but her. “No, Evie, my wanting to fuck you has nothing to do with a business transaction. This is personal in every way I can possibly think.”

  Heat flooded her from head to toe, concentrating between her thighs. He turned and placed his wine glass down on the bar, then focused entirely on her, hands in his pockets. Suddenly, the passionate way he watched her made her notice things about him. Like how strong he looked, powerful even. How it seemed like every second that passed, he learned something new about her. And how the probing nature of his stare made her uncomfortable in the best sort of way, somehow making her feel both noticed and desired in one big sweep.

  He stepped closer, bringing all his warmth close to hers. “But tell me your position here, Evie. Do you want to fuck me, right now, right here?”

  Her lips parted, a soft breath escaping. “Isn’t that why I’m here?”

  He brought the strength of his body against hers, and he was all she knew as he stared down at her. “It is the arrangement we made, yes.” He reached up, pulled the strap of her blouse a little off her shoulder and kissed the skin there. “Shall I bend you over right here and lift your skirt, taking you as I want?”

  She shivered against the goose bumps rising on her flesh, her eyes fluttering shut. “That is what you wanted.”

  He pulled the strap of her blouse down a little farther over her shoulder and placed another open-mouthed kiss there. “Or should I press you against this window, nestle between your thighs, and feast on your pussy until I’ve had my fill?”

  She moaned. His voice…the words…her tummy clenched as desire flooded her.

  He dragged his tongue over her shoulder slowly. “And then I’d give you my cock, only after I tasted you. Is that what you want, Evie?”

  She quivered with the promise in his voice. He pressed his erection against her thigh, showing her how incredible his cock would be.

  “Look at me.”

  When his hand slid across her cheek, she reopened her eyes and leaned into his touch. His hand was strong, warm, and everything she apparently desired. Whatever he found in her expression caused the side of his mouth to curve. He leaned forward and gently pressed his mouth against hers.

  At first, his kiss was teasing. Sometimes licking. Sometimes nibbling with his teeth. Sometimes sucking on her skin. But then everything changed, and his body stiffened, his hand slid from her face to the back of her skull, where he threaded his fingers into her hair, gripping the strands tightly.

  She moaned, melting into the hold. He didn’t gently coax her anymore, he owned her mouth. He angled her head, deepening the kiss. His tongue dove inside, swirling against hers, his powerful mouth claiming her.

  His kiss was everything she didn’t know she was missing.

  By the time he backed away, keeping his fingers tangled in her hair, and her head angled back so he could gaze into her eyes, she was breathless. He cupped her chin with his other hand, and she felt trapped in a hold oddly safe, changing her in unexpected ways. She didn’t know a touch could mean this much, but she was melting right down to her toes for him.

  His voice lowered, eyes blazed red-hot. “Are you asking me to fuck you, Evie?”

  “Yes,” she stated, unashamed.

  He grinned, devilishly. “Have you forgotten already?”

  “Forgotten what?”

  His gaze fell to her lips. He brushed a thumb across her damp mouth in a gesture that spoke of his desire. “My game,” he stated. “My rules. Your surrender.” He stepped back, breaking her out of his spell. The coldness in the air was a shock to her system, when he added, “You can sleep in the spare bedroom, third door on the right. Set your alarm for five o’clock, we’re flying out at seven thirty.” Without another word, he left the room.

  As Evie watched him disappear down the hallway, she finally got it. Likely, what every woman before her got.

  Grey wasn’t only passion.

  He was lust. And control.

  And she wanted more.

  Chapter 3

  The next morning, the plane accelerated down the runway. Grey glanced at the seat next to him when Evie began humming. He couldn’t hold back his chuckle, and he arched an eyebrow at her. “The Star Wars theme song?”

  “Sorry,” she said, eyes crinkling with amusement. “I can’t help it. It’s so fitting, don’t you think?”

  “You’re cute an
d amusing, that’s what I think.” He stretched out his legs, thrilled she was smiling again.

  This morning when they arrived at the airport, Evie hadn’t been particularly happy to learn that when Grey bought his ticket yesterday, he’d upgraded both his and Evie’s ticket to first class. She’d taken it personally, probably thinking he was trying to buy her affection. But she’d been wrong. He simply hadn’t flown coach in his life, ever, and he didn’t plan on squishing himself into the tight seats today for no other reason than to avoid her annoyance.

  She squinted at him, all tense in her seat, and then said, “Nope, I can’t hold it in.” She hummed the song again and then even did the arm movements of an X-wing Starfighter flying in the sky. “Okay, I’m done,” she said, laughing, once the plane leveled off.

  He chuckled too, impressed that she wasn’t more guarded. So many women in his past took themselves so seriously, but she didn’t seem to be one of them. He liked that about her. When she needed to be serious, like on the job, she was, but then there was this side of her he’d never seen. Playful, sexy.

  “I’m actually surprised you even know the Star Wars song,” she said, dragging him out of his thoughts.

  “Why wouldn’t I?” He frowned, a little offended. “Do you honestly find me that stuffy?”

  She regarded him, lips pursed, then she finally half shrugged. “Not stuffy necessarily, but not really a guy I’d imagine sitting on the couch, eating popcorn, and watching Star Wars.” She studied his face and then laughed softly, shaking her head. “Nope, sorry, I can’t picture it at all.”

  “Why is that picture so unbelievable?” He honestly wondered.

  “I don’t know,” she explained, searching his eyes again. “Too busy working. Too busy at fancy dinners. Too busy sipping scotch and smoking cigars.” She glanced out the window, having no idea how much those words impacted him.

  She wasn’t wrong. That was his life, sort of. He’d grown up surrounded by wealth and extravagance and stuffiness of all kinds. Until he met his friend Maddox through another friend. Maddox showed him how true friends were with each other, not angling for some favor or looking to get in good with his mother, but real. He’d also introduced Grey to the world of wild parties and dark, sensual sex clubs of all kinds, including private parties that catered to BDSM.