CARSON
Imade it through Sunday dinner last night without Noah bringing up Grace. It might have had to do with me threatening him on the drive up but at least he didn’t say anything. Mom would have a conniption if she found out I was dating someone.
Noah did lecture me though. And I was grateful it was just the two of us in the car, Anna May was off in Nashville. He told me that moving on was something I needed to do, that I couldn’t stay pissed about Tiffany. That I needed to get over her leaving and move on. And that maybe Grace is the one to do it with. He saw the chemistry between us. Said it was undeniable. But I can’t be with her without losing my friendship with Owen.
Of course, Noah doesn’t know everything about Tiff either. He doesn’t know how quickly she moved on. That two weeks after she broke up with me, she was hanging all over Michael Bennet. A man I despise. The two of them, I guess, have been dating since then, according to Owen’s wife, Chelsi, who found out. They only recently made their relationship public.
I know I shouldn’t let it bother me. But I just think about when she left, when she said I wasn’t enough. It makes me wonder if she had been with Michael before then behind my back.
I rub my fingers over my eyes as I stare back at my computer screen, answering emails and setting up meetings. I barely hear the click of my door and am surprised to see Grace here an hour early.
She walks over to my desk with two coffees in hand and a giant smile on her face. “Good morning!”
I raise a brow at her as I grab my coffee from her hand. “Why are you so chipper?”
“Just woke up on the right side of the bed this morning, I guess.”
She turns away from me and I think that maybe she moved on and got laid. But as she walks to her desk, she sways her hips more than usual and I drop the pen in my hand when I take in what she is wearing.
Sheer tights with a back seam have my eyes crawling up her legs, not to mention she is wearing heels taller than I’ve ever seen her wear. She has on a tight red pencil skirt with a high slit that hits a few inches below her ass. But that’s not what has my dick hardening. It’s the damn tights. They’re thigh highs. And she is wearing a garter belt that I can only see when she sways her hips a certain way.
I swallow down my need and turn back to my computer. I know she wore that on purpose and I have no doubt it’s because of my actions on Friday. But I couldn’t help myself. Not after that lunch. Not when I put my hand on her thigh and moved it up her leg and felt the warmth of her pussy radiating near my hand. Not when she kept randomly touching me during lunch.
* * *
Things don’t change the next day. She’s wearing a one-piece black pantsuit that accentuates every curve of her body. And the top isn’t work appropriate. It dips low, showing her cleavage and a damn white lace bra underneath. She sits facing me at the table, her back arched so her chest sticks out. And I don’t miss how she runs her fingers along the edge of the top, slightly pulling back the fabric to reveal more of the white lace.
I slam my phone down when I watch her touch her breast while biting her lip. If she wants to tease me, let’s see what she does in front of others. I send a message to the interns and ask them to come work in the office today. Let’s see how she feels wearing that outfit with other people all around her.
She shoots me a glare when they walk in carrying boxes of case files. I do need them to go through phone records and credit card statements, but they could have done it in the conference room they had been using. But I want to see Grace squirm.
She excuses herself, grabbing her purse, and heading out of the office. I want to follow her but it would seem too obvious. So I tell the interns what to look for and turn back to my emails.
When Grace walks in, her top is pinned shut. She flips me off before going back to the table and working with the interns, ignoring me the rest of the day.
* * *
I wonder if she is going to change her game plan today and wear something appropriate. After I pulled the move on her yesterday, she didn’t talk to me all day. Hell, she didn’t even say goodbye when she left the office at five.
I wait impatiently, unable to concentrate on anything this morning, to see what game she is going to play today. I’m not going to lie. I quite enjoy her antics. Thinking she can seduce me with her wardrobe. But I have plans for her today and I know it will piss her off.
She walks into the office and brings me my coffee, then tosses her stuff on the couch and takes off her coat, hanging it in the closet near the door.
She’s wearing a skintight sweater dress, which is actually work appropriate. No cleavage and no high slits. But it still makes my mouth water.
She gets to work once again facing me. I have no doubt she plans on making sexual innuendos all day. I can tell by that smirk on her face. But two can play this game.
By the time lunch rolls around, she’s given up. I ignored her all morning. Even when she came to my desk to show me something, leaning over so I could see down her dress. Or when she bent over, ass in the air, near the conference table, her round ass begging to be smacked.
But if she wants to try and make me uncomfortable. I have no problem doing the same.
“Let’s go,” I tell her. “Lunchtime.”
She looks up from her computer. “Have fun.”
I stand up and slide my suit jacket on. “You’re coming with.”
“Why?”