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Yep, no question. Propositioning Grayson Rivers for hot limo sex was the best decision I ever made.
CHAPTER 4
Grayson
By the time the limo pulled up in front of my building, I was well and truly off balance. I don’t think I’d ever met anyone like Stef before.
She was outrageous and outrageously sexy, and had completely knocked me off my feet. I couldn’t wait to have her in my condo, in my bed, and didn’t bother waiting for Andrew to open the door, climbing out and offering Stef my hand. She took it, and I liked the way our fingers laced together as I led her into the lobby and to the private elevator.
Inside, Stef was quiet, leaning against the wall, watching me, her gaze speculative. I wasn’t sure what she was thinking, but I liked the heat in her eyes, the way her lips curved in a slow smile. Enjoyed knowing that I was the one that put that smile on her lips.
When the elevator dinged, the doors opened, and I led Stef out, stepping aside to let her pass. She walked through the small entryway and my eyes dropped straight to her ass, appreciating the sway of her hips, the way her long blue hair brushed hershoulders. She turned and glanced back, an eyebrow arched. “Coming?”
Damn straight, I was.
She stood just inside the doorway, dropping her bag to the floor as she looked around my condo. “Don’t like color much, then?”
I shrugged. There was a lot of black, white and gray. “You don’t like it?”
She gestured to the floor to ceiling windows. “The view’s amazing. And that staircase is something else. Aren’t you worried you’ll fall through it?” Her eyes followed the floating metal staircase up to my loft bedroom. “Wow! That’s impressive! You can barely even tell that the glass barrier is there. It’s amazing.”
“Thank you.”
She wandered into the living room, running her fingers over the back of the sofa. “How long have you lived here for?”
“Ten years.”
“Hmm.”
What was that supposed to mean? The fact that I didn’t know made me feel jittery. As though she was judging me and finding me wanting. It made me feel insecure, which in turn made me feel uncomfortable.
“Have you always lived here by yourself?” She leaned against the back of the couch, arms folded, surveying me.
“No.”
“Ah.”
I gritted my teeth.
“Ex wife?”
“Yes.”
“How long ago?”
“Four years.”
“How long were you married?”
“Four years.”
“What’s her name?”
“Lydia.”
“Where is she now?”
“I have no idea.”