Role Play (Plaything Book 4) Read online

  “I was thinking about staying the rest of the weekend. Would you like that?”

  He faced me. “If you have to ask that then there really is something wrong with my delivery.”

  A strand of hair blew across my cheek. He reached up and tucked it back behind my ear. I felt the sensation of his fingers on my ear through my entire body.

  I shook my head. “No, the fault lies more with my confidence around men.”

  He raised a brow at me. “Said the woman who probably stepped on and crushed a lot of men on her way to the vice president’s chair.”

  “First of all, I’m not talking about men in that particular context. And secondly, I earned that position with hard work and if I left some men behind my wake, it’s only because they didn’t work as hard.” I tried to keep the huff out of my tone, but as my words sputtered back to me, I realized I was saying it more for myself than to correct Grayson. My shoulders relaxed as I reflected more about what I’d just said. “I worked hard. I earned it.” The last comments were just for me.

  “You sound surprised.” His deep voice popped me from my self-revelation.

  “I wasn’t really letting myself believe that I deserved the position. I think that’s why I wasn’t overwhelmed with excitement when the owner announced it. I was so certain that a man would get the job, I hadn’t absorbed the idea that I’d been picked for it.”

  “Well then—” He lifted his mostly empty glass for another toast. “Here’s to finally letting yourself deserve and accept the fact that you are awesome at what you do.”

  I tapped my glass against his. “And here’s to the man who is great at giving toasts and fixing roofs and looking amazingly good while he’s doing it.”

  He laughed. “So, I’m really just a sex object in work boots, huh?”

  I opened my mouth to apologize.

  “No, that’s all right,” he said. “I kind of like that.”

  “Jeez, that was quite the double standard, wasn’t it? I might be a vice president, but sometimes, I’m just a ditz.” I took another sip. “Tell me about yourself. You know all about my inner demons and my rise to success. What about you, Grayson?”

  He stared out at the scenery with the empty glass dangling from his fingers. “Not much to tell except that I like to work with my hands. Success to me is finishing a project and doing it well. I love to bring old things back to life, like this old place.”

  “There are infinite definitions for success. It’s whatever makes you feel accomplished, like you’ve put your mark on something.”

  His mouth turned up into that breath stopping smile as he turned to me. “Look who’s tossing out well-thought, charming comments now.”

  “Then, in the interest of weekend fun, I’d like to revert back to my more scandalous side and add that you are exceptionally skilled with your hands. Never experienced anything quite like it.”

  He reached over and took my hand and brought it to his mouth for a kiss. “Allow me to demonstrate even more skills later this evening. You’ll be around?”

  “I will.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The delicious fragrance of pot roast snaked its way up the staircase, through the hallway and beneath my door. I pulled on the dress that Coco had so graciously left for me. I combed my rather unruly hair back with my fingers. Not once this weekend had I bothered with a hair dryer or flat iron, opting instead for my natural wave. As I glanced in the antique mirror in the bedroom, I realized I liked the wild, unkempt look for a change. Normally, I pulled my hair into a prim bun at the back of my head to keep up a more professional appearance. It felt good not to be fussing with my hair for a change.

  The soft cotton dress, made of a blue calico fabric, fluttered around my legs. The front of the sleeveless bodice buttoned up. It was a bit snug on top, but, otherwise, it was as if Coco knew my exact measurements. The dress looked great. I hated to admit it, but the woman was far better than me at picking my wardrobe. Or maybe I was just always so focused on making a confident impression that I never thought out of the box. A simple calico dress would certainly have never crossed my mind.

  I twirled around once. I had no shoes to go with it, but somehow, barefoot worked just fine. And I was fairly certain that was exactly why my more than spectacular hostess hadn’t left me any. I’d toyed with the idea of slipping on my high heels, especially remembering the comment Grayson had made about them, but I brushed that idea off pretty fast. They would have looked out of place under the cotton dress. Besides, barefoot felt pretty damn nice.

  I’d heard the shower in the hallway bathroom turn off just moments before I’d stepped into my own. I could only assume Grayson would be joining us for pot roast. It had been a long time since I’d met a man who had me spinning. In fact, the last time someone had me this excited and lightheaded, I was in high school. My main crush, Steve Portman, the football quarterback, had asked me to the Valentine’s dance. The night turned out to be disappointing because my crush turned out to be a self-centered bore. But I’d been giddy and elated right up until reality smacked me back down to earth.

  I already knew the man in the bedroom down the hall was no self-centered bore. I couldn’t wait to see him.

  A brisk breeze flowed through the open bedroom window. I walked over to close it. The bright blue sky of the day was turning gray with nightfall. I squinted to get a closer look at the horizon. It wasn’t a thick, strange fog like the weather anomaly that had led me to the inn but, rather, a cluster of sinister looking dark clouds that marred the evening sky.

  Growing up, few things scared me like a thunderstorm. My fear had sprung from a terrible winter night when Leti and I had waited for my parents to get home from work. In the midst of a huge clap of thunder, the howling wind had pushed the giant pine tree in our front yard over. Its branches shot through the kitchen window, narrowly missing me as I scrambled away. It was a terrifying moment in time that I still occasionally relived, particularly during severe weather.

  But tonight I wasn’t a little girl sitting at a kitchen table waiting for her parents. Tonight I was spending the evening with a man who I couldn’t push out of my mind. Even after the intimate time we’d shared in the gazebo, I was hardly able to contain myself when I thought about seeing Grayson. I wasn’t completely sure when I’d turned the corner into mild lunacy over this guy, but it had happened. It was probably a good thing this was just a weekend fling. I couldn’t imagine what kind of havoc a man like Grayson would have on my otherwise mostly planned out life.

  The reflection in the mirror blinked back at me. My cheeks were pink from the sunshine and from thinking about Grayson. I hadn’t seen myself look this relaxed and happy in a long time. My shoulders drooped some as I thought about my structured, over-planned life and future. Would a little havoc and a few left turns really be all that bad?

  A knock at my door pulled me out of my somber thoughts.

  “Hey, Jessi, I’m going down to dinner.” Grayson’s smooth deep tone came through the door.

  “I’ll go down with you.” I walked to the door and swung it open. His hair was still wet, and he’d pulled on a black sweater and jeans. Yep, a little havoc might not be a bad thing at all, especially when it came in such a dreamy package.

  Grayson looked equally pleased with my attire. His gaze dropped down the dress to my bare feet. He laughed. “I like it.”

  I held out my arms. “The dress?”

  “And everything that goes with it.” Without warning, he circled his arm around my waist and pulled me against him. “I missed you, V.P..”

  I lifted up on my toes and kissed his mouth lightly. “Missed me? You’ve seen me three times today, and during one of those times, you saw a lot of me. I’m still feeling the sweet tenderness from that particular meeting.”

  He kissed me long and deep. Even with the delicious scents climbing the stairs and circling the narrow hallway, it seemed entirely possible that we wouldn’t make it down to dinner. Then Coco’s voice brought the
kiss to a reluctant halt.

  “Jessi, Grayson, if you two are up there, I’ve set dinner up in the dining room. Apple pie is heating in the oven, so listen for the timer.”

  “We’ll be right down,” Grayson called, his voice sounding slightly rough.

  “That’s fine. No hurry. I just didn’t want the food to get cold. I’m on my way out.”

  I peered up at Grayson. He looked equally confused.

  He dropped his arms, and I followed him down the stairs. Coco was pulling on her coat. “The storm is about to barrel through, and my sister, Ginger, gets nervous about bad weather. I told her I would come stay with her. So you two have the place to yourself.” She shot a quick wink my direction. “That dress is perfect, Jessi. I knew it would be.”

  I looked down at the pretty blue fabric. It was soft and worn and like nothing else I owned. “I agree. I may have to hire you as my personal dresser.”

  Coco laughed at that idea as she pulled a purple umbrella out of the entry closet. She pointed it to the floor like a cane. For a fleeting second, it seemed as if she was crouched and slow like an elderly woman. But as she opened the door, she straightened and even added an extra spring in her step as she walked out and shut the door behind her.

  I looked over at Grayson to see whether or not he’d noticed the strange transformation, but he was gazing raptly at me . . . and the dress. Selfishly, I had no intention of distracting him by bringing up the ambiguous age of our hostess.

  “To the dining room?” He lifted up his arm for me to take. I wrapped my hand around his arm, and we headed in the direction of the wonderful aromas.

  “You must be hungry after a long day of work.”

  “As a matter of fact, I am very hungry.”

  We stepped into the hexagon shaped dining room. It was an ornately decorated room, complete with bright white trim and richly colored wall paper. Two plates and a silver platter of food were set on a white-washed wood table that was surrounded with blue satin cushioned chairs. A candelabra of lit tapered candles sat in the center of the table. A bottle of wine was chilling in a silver bucket. Coco had thought of everything.

  I walked over to the table and placed my hands on top of the chair as I admired the pretty place settings that had been laid right next to each other. There were only two. It seemed there had never been any indication of a third.

  “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say our hostess might just have looked for an excuse to leave us alone tonight.” I turned back to Grayson.

  He was leaned casually against the buffet, with his feet crossed in front of him. He’d already poured himself a glass of whiskey. He took a drink, all the while staring at me with a dark intensity that made my knees wobble.

  “Shall we sit?” My voice cracked. “I think I could use some wine.”

  I pulled out the chair as he walked to the table. He set his highball glass down next to a plate. He took hold of my hand. His dark lashes shaded the deep blue of his eyes as he dropped his gaze to my legs. “Since we are completely alone, I say this dinner will be a whole lot more enjoyable if you slide your panties off first.”

  I bit my lip, holding back the smile that badly wanted to break through. He was terrific at making bold suggestions, and damn, if I didn’t just want to bend to his will immediately.

  “But you said you were hungry.” My voice sounded a little shaky.

  “I am.”

  I scooted back a step as his heavy lids lifted. He looked at me as if he would take me right there on Coco’s lovely table.

  “Didn’t say we weren’t going to eat. I just want you to take off your panties first.”

  “I don’t know. It seems like such a formal dining room and the antique dishes—”

  “Darlin’, it wasn’t a damn suggestion. Or maybe you need some help.”

  “No,” I said abruptly. “You already shredded one pair, and Coco gave me these.”

  He shrugged. The casual gesture always reminded me of just how broad his shoulders were. “Your choice then. Either way, they’re coming off.”

  I reached under the dress and shimmied out of the panties. They pooled around my feet, and I stepped out of them. I lifted them and twirled them around on my finger. “Satisfied, sir?”

  “No, but getting there.”

  He turned the chairs at an angle so that they were nearly facing each other but still close enough to the table to eat. He waved his hand in front of the chair, motioning for me to sit. He picked up his drink and watched me over the rim of his glass as I circled in front of the chair and sat.

  I primly pulled the hem of the dress down as far it would go. Even with a dress on, I felt near to naked being without panties.

  He sat down with far less manners. He reached to the platter and served each of us some meat and potatoes. The chair creaked beneath him as he pushed his long legs out so that they were on each side of my chair. He leaned forward. Before I could stop him, he had the hem of the dress shoved up far enough to expose my naked pussy. He nodded, obviously pleased with himself.

  “So, I’m to sit here half naked while I eat pot roast?”

  “Looks that way. I want to stare at desert while I’m eating my meal. But there’s one more thing.” He leaned back against his chair and moved a big foot between my bare feet. He nudged my feet apart, exposing me even more. Suddenly, the delicious dinner was the last thing on my mind. From the look in his eyes, pot roast wasn’t first and forefront either.

  It was nearly impossible to control the tremble in my hands as I picked up the fork. Grayson, on the other hand, had no problem at all. He took a forkful, pushed it into his mouth and sat back to chew. He watched me, his gaze shifting from my mouth to my pussy and back again.

  I pretended nonchalance and stabbed a piece of pot roast. It was delicious and as tender as butter, but I found it hard to concentrate on chewing and swallowing. I was no longer flustered by him staring at me, quite exposed, as I ate. His lingering gaze had sent so much heat through me, all I could think about was his touch.

  “You look as if you could use some wine, V.P..” He seemed to take extra pleasure in calling me by my business title as if he was reminding me of my executive status one moment, and reminding me, the next moment, that, in this scenario, he was completely in charge. I found myself more than willing to be his subordinate. This man, with the navy blue eyes and incredible shoulders, could boss me from here to damn eternity, and I’d bend to every demand. It was freeing to give up control for a change.

  Grayson leaned forward and reached for the wine. He poured me a glass. As I reached for it, the hem of my dress slipped back down, covering me some. I wrapped my fingers around the glass.

  He didn’t release it right away. “Fix the dress first,” he ordered.

  I reached down and slid the hem back, slowly, giving him just enough of a view, in my opinion. He waited, still holding the glass.

  I pushed the dress up farther, exposing myself completely. He tilted his head to the side to let me know he still wasn’t satisfied. I scooted my feet apart, even farther than they’d been. I added a chin lift to show him I was ready for whatever he had in mind. I only hoped he would put me out of my misery soon and take me, somewhere, anywhere.

  He leaned back to watch me sip the wine. We each ate a few more bites under an incredibly hot layer of tension. It was a meal I would never forget, stuck in the middle of a weekend that was equally unforgettable. Surely, the strange weekend and the reality that I was in a place where no one knew me was making it easier to go along with this erotic game. Still, the longer I thought about it the more I realized that it was my attractive dinner partner and not the unusual setting and my anonymity that had tamped down my inhibitions. I was having a damn good time with Grayson, and I didn’t want it to end.

  Grayson dropped his fork rather loudly on the plate, apparently to signal he was done. He sat back and gazed at me as I finished mine. I could hardly take another bite with him staring at me as if I truly was dessert.
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  The oven timer went off and startled me. “The pie. We can’t let it burn. Coco worked so hard on it.”

  He moved his feet from either side of my chair. I pushed my dress down and stood up. I motioned my head toward the kitchen. “I’ll just go pull it out.”

  The incredible fragrance of cinnamon and apple permeated every corner of Coco’s vast kitchen. I grabbed the potholders and pulled the bubbly pie out, placing it on the kitchen island to cool.

  I stopped to fluff up my already mussed up hair and pinched my cheeks. It was a habit of mine, but for this particular occasion, it was a waste of time. Grayson had no interest in the color on my face this evening. He was far more focused on other parts. That thought sent another rush of heat between my legs.

  I took a deep breath and returned to the dining room. Grayson’s chair was empty. My eyes swept around the room. Footsteps plodded behind me. His warm breath tickled my neck as his arms circled around me. He was naked. “Can’t wait another damn minute for dessert,” he growled against my ear.

  “The pie is too hot.”

  “When it comes to dessert, there is no such thing as too hot.”

  I spun around in his arms and smiled up at him. “You’re good,” I quipped.

  “Yep. I’ve got some brains hidden beneath all this brawn.” His mouth came down over mine, and his cock pressed urgently against my belly.

  He roughly lifted my dress up above my waist. Then he reached down and cupped his large hands around my ass.

  I reached to lift off the dress, but he stopped me. His hands flew to the buttons that ran down the front of the bodice. The spaghetti thin straps hadn’t allowed for a bra beneath. In seconds, he had the panels of the dress parted and my breasts exposed. My nipples hardened as he gazed appreciatively at my body.

  “I want you just like this,” he muttered as he turned me around so my back was against the wall. He stood in front of me looking nothing short of breathtaking, completely naked and his cock erect and already sheathed in a condom. It was all I could do to keep from sinking to the floor in a puddle of desire.