I gave her a small nod of acknowledgement and led her toward the entrance for the residences. I used the fob on my keychain to gain entry to the lobby by placing it on the sensor on the exterior wall. “I wouldn’t promise anything yet, my place is a mess.” I pushed the button for the elevator.
She smiled, clearly relieved I’d let her insecurity slide. The doors opened. “You can’t be worse than a teenage boy.”
Once we were inside and used my key fob once again to access my floor, I moved closer to her. “I’m glad you’re wary, because that means you protect yourself. I understand, because that’s my job, to help people defend themselves. I’m also glad you feel safe with me. Like I said the other night, I won’t hurt you. No one will hurt you when you’re with me. That’s a promise.”
EMORY
The elevator was small, yet when Gray moved toward me, it felt downright claustrophobic. He loomed over me and I had to tilt my head back to hold his gaze. A frisson of electricity passed between us and I didn’t know what he was going to do. Was he going to kiss me? I literally gulped at the idea of his mouth on mine. He didn’t scare me, not in the sense that I feared for my safety, but I was definitely scared of how he made me feel. This, this, whatever the hell it was, was making me lose control of my body. With Gray around, it had a mind of its own.
I cleared my throat, my mouth suddenly dry as he watched me closely. There was no question he meant every word, that he’d beat the crap out of anyone who wanted to hurt me, like a modern white knight. “Okay,” I whispered, knowing he wanted me to say it aloud. His words were like a balm, soothing. I’d been taking care of myself, of Chris, for a long, long time and it felt good, no, better than good, that someone wanted to take that role on for me. I wanted to believe him. I did believe him.
The door slid open and Gray stepped back, letting me exit first. Instead of opening into a hallway, I stepped out directly into his apartment. It was wall-to-wall windows, the space bright and airy with an open floor plan. The decor was more masculine minimalist than sleek and shiny. The kitchen was modern and stainless steel, the couches leather, the TV large. It was apparent from the space alone that he had money, but he didn’t flaunt it. He didn’t flaunt his fame either. It was a very appealing trait, along with so many others I was slowly discovering.
“You think this is messy?” I asked, surprised. I knew what male messy was like and this was not it.
“I have a cleaning crew come through on Mondays while I’m downstairs, so it’s been all week since they’ve been in.” He dropped his keys on a table by the door.
I walked toward the kitchen. “No dirty dishes.” Turning, I faced the couch, coffee table, TV arrangement. “No empty pizza boxes or game controllers scattered around.” I finished my circle and faced a long hallway down which I assumed were the bedrooms and bath as it was the portion of the apartment with walls for privacy. “No dirty laundry on the floor.”
Gray shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a clean freak.”
I put my hand to my heart in mock surprise. “No woman has swept you up? Seriously, I had to ship my son to a military academy in order for him to learn tidiness.”
“Same for me then. Army.” He placed his water bottle in the sink, then came over to me, gave me a surprisingly hard stare. He had only touched me once, holding my hand at the restaurant, but this look, I felt it all over. “I don’t bring women here, so this…compulsion I have is a secret.”
I couldn’t respond to that because my brain was frozen. Didn’t bring women here.
“I’m going to jump in the shower. There’s juice and iced tea in the fridge if you’re thirsty. The remote for the TV is somewhere near the couch. I won’t be too long since I don’t have to do my hair.” He ran his hand over his head, the short hairs rasping against his palm. I wondered if it was prickly or soft and I itched to find out. Instead, I only nodded.
He turned and walked down the hall. As he went, he reached behind his head and yanked his T-shirt off, gifting me with a view of his muscled back, lean waist and a tattoo that took up part of his left shoulder blade and worked its way around his ribs toward the front. Oh my God. That back. The door at the end of the hall shut behind him, then moments later I heard the shower.
Realizing I just stood there, mouth open, practically gaping at him, I rolled my eyes. I was being an idiot, ogling the man. No, not an idiot, because any conscious woman would ogle him. I mean, that was just his back. The way his biceps bulged with his movements, the way his back was sinewy and V-shaped with muscle had my nipples tightening. And the tattoo! I’d never found them all that appealing before, but I wanted to strip him naked and check out every single one of them. I knew about the one on his arm, and now the one on his back. Were there more? God, if there were, there wasn’t much skin left I hadn’t seen, but I wanted to tug on those shorts to find out.
Not that I could act upon it; I was a wuss. I barely remembered what it felt like to have a man-induced orgasm and was pretty bad at sex. Bad enough that I hadn’t been able to keep Jack from sniffing around Paralegal Sue, divorce me and move to California.
What did guys even want these days? Sex, for sure. But I’d heard, from Faith and Christy and all my younger single friends, that oral sex was done first these days. Even on first dates. Seriously? Was I so old-fashioned I wanted to work my way down a guy’s body?
Did Gray expect me to give him a blow job? Today? He’d barely touched me, just held my hand the other night, and that had been for show. But that was it. Was this even a date? Had he not touched me any more because he wasn’t interested? He said he didn’t bring women to his apartment, so why me?
Hearing the water shut off had me coming back from la-la land. The guy took two-minute showers like in the military. I hadn’t even moved from where he left me, so I went to check out his view from the large windows. We were above the treetops lining the sidewalk and I could see across the street to the other buildings. We were in an area of town that had once been a suburb of Baltimore but had been absorbed into the city. The small downtown area was thriving with boutiques and small shops, restaurants and coffee houses. I could see why Gray put his gym here; young people, fit people would find the location convenient.
I moved to look at framed pictures that were on a table behind the couch. One was of Gray competing in a fight, his arm out punching his competitor in the face. The photographer had caught him in motion. Pretty ruthless. Another was of Gray and a few other men, clearly other fighters. I picked up one of him and Thor, both with medals around their necks, both younger. No family pictures, then I remembered he’d said he had a shitty childhood.
“I hope I didn’t take too long,” Gray said, coming out of the hallway.
Putting the picture back, I looked up at him. He wore tan cargo shorts that hit the top of his knees and a pale blue button-up short-sleeved shirt. His feet were bare. His male scent filled the air, something woodsy and not too strong. Soap, perhaps? Whatever it was I liked. A lot.
“Me and Thor, back in the day.” He nodded toward the picture I’d just put back.
I glanced back at the photo. “One of your competitions?”
“Yeah, you can see what I look like with my hair grown out a bit.”
I assessed him, picturing him with longer hair. It was only about an inch long in the photo, but his hair was dark and covered his brow. I wondered if it were even longer if it would curl over his forehead and be unruly. Not his style, it seemed, and I liked Gray with it closely cropped. It exposed him to the world and with it he was saying This is me. He didn’t hide behind anything and I liked that. So far he’d been direct and forthcoming, and it totally, totally, worked for me.
“I kind of like the clean-cut look,” I admitted.
He ran a hand over his very short hair, all the while assessing me, perhaps testing the weight of my words. He made a sound deep in his throat. “Ready to go?”