“Thanks for your support,” Gray said dryly.
Micah shrugged. “I just wondered, that’s all. Faith…well she’s hot. A better girl you won’t find. I’d think you were a f**king pu**y if you weren’t attracted to her at least on some level.”
“Can we stop with all the touchy-feely shit?” Gray muttered. “You sound like a damn woman.”
Micah chuckled. “Hey, I just wanted to know if you’d staked a claim on Faith, because if you aren’t interested in her, I might ask her out.”
“Over my f**king dead body,” Gray growled. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he knew he’d been had.
Micah bent over laughing, looked up at Gray then dissolved into laughter again.
“Fuck you and the horse you rode in on.”
“Don’t you love it when a woman manages to twist you all up in knots?” Micah said around a bubble of laughter.
Gray briefly closed his eyes, as long as he could get away with as they zipped down the highway. This was a f**king mess. And he so wasn’t in the mood for Micah’s obnoxious joking.
Thank God it was Friday. He glanced at his watch. Or Saturday morning. He wouldn’t have to face Faith until Monday. But even then, he wasn’t sure how the hell he was supposed to look her in the eye.
“I’m so f**ked,” he muttered.
Beside him Micah chuckled. Gray shot him another dirty look, but Micah regarded him innocently, a smug look on his face.
“Sure you don’t want to tell me what all went on in there?” Micah asked.
“Nosy bastard.”
“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” Micah said with a shrug. “Guess it’s too bad I didn’t choose to hang out at The House tonight.”
“Yeah, that would have gone over real well,” Gray said sourly. “I’m sure Faith would have been real happy to see you there.”
Micah grinned evilly. “No happier than I imagine she was to see you.”
“Just shut up,” Gray mumbled. “Let it die already. I’m going to have to hope Faith has no more desire to rehash everything than I do.”
CHAPTER 20
What kind of twisted, weird-ass woman did it make her that when she got up the next morning, the fact that she could feel the slight ache in her ass made her all quivery inside?
Faith rolled out of bed and flexed her muscles experimentally as she stood and stretched. A warm tingle buzzed up her midsection at the memory of the night before. Gray commanding her body, making her come.
She remembered every swat to her ass, how it made her feel, the delicious balance between pain and pleasure. But more than that, and something she was starting to realize, was that her reaction wasn’t just to the stimuli, but to Gray. Otherwise, Brent would have been able to get her off just as quickly.
She yawned and trudged to her bathroom where she turned on the shower, full blast and blistering hot. Ten minutes later, she walked out of the bathroom, towel on her head and dressed in a T-shirt and gym shorts.
As she puttered around her kitchen, she gave thought to her most pressing dilemma: Gray.
If she lived to be a hundred, she’d never understand men. Women were supposed to be the enigmas, but men? Moody, brooding bastards, the lot of them. A woman with PMS had nothing on a man. Where women might get hormonal once a month, men suffered their own brand of PMS on a daily basis.
He wanted her. She could see it in his eyes, in his body language. He practically screamed possession. It made her shiver just to think about all that testosterone flowing behind those big muscles.
So what was his problem? Why did he shove her away like she was Satan’s spawn right after they went at it in the hallway of The House?
She poured herself a glass of orange juice and padded into the living room, where she flopped on the couch. She glanced at the TV remote for all of three seconds before twisting her lips and redirecting her gaze.
She wasn’t in the mood for television. What she was in the mood to do was brood and mull. Figure out this thing between her and Gray.
His directive to stay away from The House should have pissed her off, but she shrugged it off. He was right. And she had no intention of ever going back. Why should she, when she’d found exactly what she wanted, and it wasn’t anything The House offered?
No, she was pretty certain she knew precisely what it was she wanted now. It just happened to come in the form of a six-foot-plus surly male. A man she was dying to taste again. Take in her mouth. In her body.
Goose bumps prickled over her arms, and she closed her eyes to relish the memory of his hands on her body, his fingers between her legs.
Finally. Finally she’d found a man who was forceful. Strong. Unapologetic. A man who didn’t ask. Who took what he wanted.
Now she just had to figure out how to reel him in.
She started when a knock sounded at her door. She hurriedly leaned forward to set her glass down on the coffee table and lurched to her feet.
On the way to the door, she found herself holding her breath, hoping it was Gray. But when she opened it, it wasn’t Gray standing there. It was Damon. Damon from the sex club.
He smiled and held up his hand where the straps of her shoes dangled from his fingertips.
“I thought you might want these back,” he said.
She blushed, and then she stammered, and finally she clapped her lips shut and prayed for a giant anvil to drop from the sky and crush him where he stood.
“May I come in?” he asked.
“No.” Horrified that she’d said it aloud, she cleared her throat. “I mean yes. Yes, of course.” She stepped back and opened the door wider.
She led him into her living room. “Would you like something to drink? Juice or water?”
He shook his head. “No, I don’t have long.”
She sank onto the couch while he took an armchair diagonal to her. She waited, not knowing what the hell to say or how to instigate a normal conversation. What could she say anyway? Did you enjoy the show? Did you see me suck off Gray in the hallway after he spanked my ass?
A red-hot glow seeped into her cheeks, and she looked down.
He dropped her shoes on the floor, and the sound made her look up again.
“I just wanted to make sure you were all right,” he said softly.
Her gaze lifted to his eyes, and she saw genuine concern there. She relaxed slightly and gave him a hesitant smile.
“That was sweet of you, Damon, but you didn’t need to worry about me. Or come all this way to return my shoes. Though I love those shoes.” She gave them a longing glance, grateful to have them back.