Sunday, May 8, 2011

It's Mother's Day...Get Blindfolded!

She opened an eye. Grayson hovered in her office doorway, his eyes on some point above her head, a hesitant look on his face.
“What?” She kept rocking.
“I—ah, I wanted to apologize.” He entered and closed the door behind him before stopping in the middle of the room.
“Oh, yeah?” She leaned forward. “What for?” This promised to be good.
“For jumping to conclusions, for insinuating that, that—” He clasped his hands behind his back.
“That I’m a slut.”
His face turned red. “I was wrong and I apologize.”
“Are you sure?”
His eyes snapped up.
Lyric pushed back her chair and got to her feet. Predictably his eyes zeroed in on her chest. She walked toward him. “Are you sure I’m not a slut?” A frown creased his forehead and she continued. “You think I slept with your brother. That I use my body to get my way.”
Grayson shook his head. “I didn’t mean that. I was just—”
“Frustrated.” Directly in front of him now, she crossed her arms. “Yes, so you said.” She looked into his silver eyes. “And you know what? I believe you.”
Lyric closed the distance between them. She wanted to smell the delicious musk that clung to him. Grayson looked damn uncomfortable, his eyes guarded like he had no idea what to think. They stood chest to chest, but not touching.
She lowered her voice and spoke. “It has to be frustrating to think I had sex with your brother—betrayed you in the worst possible way—yet you still want me.” She followed the hypnotic movement of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed. “You still burn for me.”
Lyric met his stormy eyes. Twin slashes of color appeared on his cheekbones and she pushed further. She leaned into him, put her lips to his left ear and allowed her breath to caress him. His body went taut. Potent heat radiated from him to her, but he didn’t move.
She spoke again. “You dislike me, but most of all, you dislike yourself. For wanting me, needing me. For all the things you want to do to me.”

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