off my warm body, I contemplated what to do. Should I try sleeping again or should I go downstairs and look for something to help me sleep?
Grey’s parties were usually outside and in his pool house, so it was safe to assume that no one really was in the main house except me.
After a good five minutes weighing my options, I decided that I wanted to sleep it off with a sleep aid or alcohol. So, with my soft cotton matching cami and shorts, I trotted downstairs to get something to cure my ailment—hallucination.
The rooms were dark, so once I got to the oak bar, I had to switch on the light for my eyes to take in what available options I had.
Grey Goose. Exclusive champagne brands. Wines, red and white. Brandy. Tequila… My hand kept leaning in towards the first choice.
“Grey it is,” I murmured, thinking about the man himself and not the drink as I reached out to get the coated bottled drink. Just when I was about to pull my choice of poison, Greyson came in unexpectedly through the garden double doors with his swimming shorts on and nothing more.
Fuck.
The guy from my dream looked so much better in flesh. My thoughts rendered themselves useless as my nipples perked up, tightening at the sight of him slowly striding towards me with purpose.
I stood unmoving, unblinking, as he moved closer towards me and didn’t halt until he was a foot away breathing steadily.
“Olivia…” He said my name like it was a caress. He also didn’t seem to be surprised to have found me around the bar, scouting for alcohol. In fact, he looked like he had been expecting me.
Which was beyond odd…
His cheeks were flushed and I could smell alcohol from his breath, but instead of making my stomach recoil, I seemed to want more of it. The thought of tasting his alcohol coated tongue made me bite the bottom of my lip. Yes, I was becoming a walking contradiction. I wanted him, and yet, I wished I didn’t. I hated him, although my body adored him. It was push and pull with my body and my mind. It was exhausting, yet at the same time, it was exciting me.
These urges were bad… sinful .
God, help me.
“You’re having a party,” I said with sarcasm. “At two in the morning.” It was the best I could do. Grey would never have guessed with the tone of my voice what I was imagining all the while he stood there looking like a fucking god.
A dream.
A perfect mortal.
With liquid, fiery-gold eyes.
If he wasn’t such a playboy… or a careless idiot… maybe… FUCK . I had to stop my thoughts. Toying on dangerous ground was one thing I didn’t do casually.
“Why don’t you join us?” he asked, dropping his eyes as if they had x-ray vision, slowly examining my barely-there, thin, white cotton nightwear. “I would love for you to join us.” He threw out the invitation the second his eyes landed on mine.
Shit. Why did he sound like he was inviting me for something more x-rated? “I’m fine,” I said lamely. “I’m going back to bed after taking a shot.” Or a few, whatever it takes to pass out like the dead.
His eyes flickered to the bottle I had my fingers wrapped around. “Grey?” he snickered, finding it amusing. Of course he found it funny. “I knew you’d like some Grey in you.”
Damn him, but boy was he right on that score.
I was about to make some remark about his inane assumptions when he leaned over and reached out for a shot glass in one of the cabinets and told me to scoot over. Never mind the Grey. “I want tequila.”
“Fickle, but okay. I won’t begrudge you from having your drink.” He hid a smile.
He looked too cute and sexy at the same time. The urge to lean against him and smell his skin was taking over me, so instead, I picked on my nails, needing something to do.
“What are you doing?” I knew what he was getting to, but I said it anyway.
He didn’t glance at me as he took the bottle away from my hand and twisted it open. “Preparing your shots, what else.”
“I can do
Grey’s parties were usually outside and in his pool house, so it was safe to assume that no one really was in the main house except me.
After a good five minutes weighing my options, I decided that I wanted to sleep it off with a sleep aid or alcohol. So, with my soft cotton matching cami and shorts, I trotted downstairs to get something to cure my ailment—hallucination.
The rooms were dark, so once I got to the oak bar, I had to switch on the light for my eyes to take in what available options I had.
Grey Goose. Exclusive champagne brands. Wines, red and white. Brandy. Tequila… My hand kept leaning in towards the first choice.
“Grey it is,” I murmured, thinking about the man himself and not the drink as I reached out to get the coated bottled drink. Just when I was about to pull my choice of poison, Greyson came in unexpectedly through the garden double doors with his swimming shorts on and nothing more.
Fuck.
The guy from my dream looked so much better in flesh. My thoughts rendered themselves useless as my nipples perked up, tightening at the sight of him slowly striding towards me with purpose.
I stood unmoving, unblinking, as he moved closer towards me and didn’t halt until he was a foot away breathing steadily.
“Olivia…” He said my name like it was a caress. He also didn’t seem to be surprised to have found me around the bar, scouting for alcohol. In fact, he looked like he had been expecting me.
Which was beyond odd…
His cheeks were flushed and I could smell alcohol from his breath, but instead of making my stomach recoil, I seemed to want more of it. The thought of tasting his alcohol coated tongue made me bite the bottom of my lip. Yes, I was becoming a walking contradiction. I wanted him, and yet, I wished I didn’t. I hated him, although my body adored him. It was push and pull with my body and my mind. It was exhausting, yet at the same time, it was exciting me.
These urges were bad… sinful .
God, help me.
“You’re having a party,” I said with sarcasm. “At two in the morning.” It was the best I could do. Grey would never have guessed with the tone of my voice what I was imagining all the while he stood there looking like a fucking god.
A dream.
A perfect mortal.
With liquid, fiery-gold eyes.
If he wasn’t such a playboy… or a careless idiot… maybe… FUCK . I had to stop my thoughts. Toying on dangerous ground was one thing I didn’t do casually.
“Why don’t you join us?” he asked, dropping his eyes as if they had x-ray vision, slowly examining my barely-there, thin, white cotton nightwear. “I would love for you to join us.” He threw out the invitation the second his eyes landed on mine.
Shit. Why did he sound like he was inviting me for something more x-rated? “I’m fine,” I said lamely. “I’m going back to bed after taking a shot.” Or a few, whatever it takes to pass out like the dead.
His eyes flickered to the bottle I had my fingers wrapped around. “Grey?” he snickered, finding it amusing. Of course he found it funny. “I knew you’d like some Grey in you.”
Damn him, but boy was he right on that score.
I was about to make some remark about his inane assumptions when he leaned over and reached out for a shot glass in one of the cabinets and told me to scoot over. Never mind the Grey. “I want tequila.”
“Fickle, but okay. I won’t begrudge you from having your drink.” He hid a smile.
He looked too cute and sexy at the same time. The urge to lean against him and smell his skin was taking over me, so instead, I picked on my nails, needing something to do.
“What are you doing?” I knew what he was getting to, but I said it anyway.
He didn’t glance at me as he took the bottle away from my hand and twisted it open. “Preparing your shots, what else.”
“I can do
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