Bound (Bound Duet Book 1) Page 3

  As he straightened up, he extended his hand over the table. Knocked out of my lust-induced daze, I realized he was introducing himself, but I hadn’t heard anything he’d said. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you. What did you say your name was?”

  He pulled my hand, forcing me closer, so I had to lean over the table. I could feel myself sinking into the deep blue ocean of his eyes. “Gray Dearsley.”

  The warmth of his breath on my skin sent a chill down my neck, affecting me in ways no man should. His voice in my ear was a song of seduction, and my heart sang the unfamiliar lyrics. The hint of a Southern drawl, and the deep rumble in his velvety baritone sent a warm rush throughout my entire body. He didn’t take his eyes from mine or relent in his silent assessment—I felt naked, completely exposed, as if he could read every intimate thought that passed through me. I offered him my name, “Annie Teasman,” but he appeared to know it already.

  Our silent evaluation continued as I slowly sat back in the booth, taking my hand with me. Drawing the look out as long as possible without appearing to gawk, I peeked over at Lynn, giving her a smirk that said, I’m going to kick your ass before the night’s over.

  I tried like hell to remain calm, not let him know how affected I was by him, but the look on his face told me he was already well aware. Jenny saved me from myself when she bopped up to the table from out of nowhere—full of energy and life. I couldn’t help but giggle when she caught Gray’s attention. She was barely five feet tall with a smile the size of Texas and the personality to match. Her long, tie-dyed crinkle skirt, fitted tank top, Birks, and enough hemp jewelry to start her own store, were her typical garb, but to strangers, she stood out.

  She didn’t acknowledge Gray or Lynn before she focused on me, whining over the music, “Annie, come dance with me.”

  I shook my head, but Gray seized the opportunity. Using my friends against me, he grabbed my hand across the booth and pulled me out of my seat and into the crowd of people. With his fingers lacing through mine, he never gave me the opportunity to protest. His grasp swallowed mine whole, the warmth of his hand unfamiliar yet welcoming. Nervous as hell, I prayed my palm didn’t sweat in his. I followed him without hesitation, trying to avoid bumping into bodies as we snaked through the swarm on the dance floor.

  Reaching the middle of the room, he stopped as the song changed, and Cravin’ Melon welcomed him to the group of people moving together with the first slow song they’d played since he walked in the door. The stage lights dimmed, offering a more romantic atmosphere while the band played a ballad. I turned toward him, panic filling my wide eyes, and I glanced around him to Lynn and Jenny. It was hard to see them through the people packed in like sardines and the dimly lit space. Both were close by, but neither one was helping a girl out—bitches. I tried to focus on the beat of the base and the hum of the guitar, but my inability to think in this man’s presence muffled even the band.

  The heat from his body radiated onto mine. I barely reached the top of his shoulders; his height dwarfed me, and I had to crane my neck to stare into his eyes. I couldn’t help but notice his forehead glistened from the warmth of the room. He returned my gaze like he could see something beyond my face—quite possibly the sheer terror I felt standing so close to him with Doug Jones’s love song serenading us. In the blink of an eye, his attention shifted, and he leaned down, whispering against my ear, “It’s just a dance. I won’t bite you.”

  Holy shit. I offered him a shy little smile that seemed to steal his heart as he pulled me into him. Both of my hands rested on his chest, with his on the small of my back. I couldn’t help but lose myself in the comfort of his arms, wondering what it would have felt like to be this close without a hundred people around bumping into us. Wrapped in his embrace, I felt safe, protected—a feeling I didn’t want to enjoy. I struggled, wanting to memorize every detail of his face, his arms, the way his body felt pressed against mine and knowing I had no business considering any relationship…even casual. But everything about this guy created an internal buzz I couldn’t ignore.

  Randomly, my finger snaked beneath the sleeve of his shirt to reveal the entirety of a Chinese symbol inked on his bicep. It was the same one I’d noticed at the DC. “What does your tattoo mean?” I had to scream for him to hear me and met his eyes again in question.

  He replied, “Mighty Mouse,” with a sexy grin and a glimmer in his eye right before he offered me a quick wink. He was playing with me, and for some reason, I found it endearing.

  Either he was incredibly fucking gorgeous and oozed sex appeal, or I’d fried my brain with the crap Jenny had been smoking. I knew absolutely nothing about this guy, but I knew somehow I felt connected to him, and it scared the shit out of me.

  He brought me closer, impossibly close. He pressed his body into me—demonstrating how much I affected him. As the song changed, his hands grazed my lower back, rounded the sides, and slid around my hips, coming to rest firmly on my pelvic bones. There was nothing uncomfortable about his touch, but I was painfully aware of exactly where his fingers were. He used the tight grip he had on me to turn my back to his front. Gray ground against me in perfect time with the music—my ass pressed into his groin. The way he moved surprised me; it was sensual, intimate, and erotic. My response time had slightly diminished from intoxication, but I easily followed his lead and allowed him to manipulate my body.

  The back of my head rested on his chest, just letting him move, and my hips swayed with his. This was by far the most erotic dance I’d ever participated in fully clothed. Feeling the beat and him behind me, he spoke, but his mouth was too far away and the music too loud for me to hear. However, the vibrations in his chest affected me just the same. My hands traced the outside of his arms, my nails softly grazing his skin, hoping it might relieve a bit of the sexual tension threatening to drown both of us.

  My mind had been consumed the last few weeks. My to-do list was always growing, but being near him made it all seem insignificant. I forgot about Walton’s and school—for that moment, I was at peace, even with the people gathered around us and music so loud my head felt like it would split wide open.

  Time passed with ease and no mention of the changing hour, but I was sweaty, and so was he. Even though our bodies had meshed together for countless songs, I didn’t want him to let me go—which was all the more reason I needed to leave. I wasn’t ready for this little slice of heaven to disappear. I wanted to cling to it a tad bit longer. Exactly why I needed to go.

  He forced me to face him as he broke his hold for the first time all evening.

  I stared straight up into his endless blues, and the crowd kept dancing around us, the music kept playing. But we stood still, secluded in our own bubble. I was sure the fear was evident in my eyes—I was fighting this, and he knew he wasn’t helping. The little grins, the way he touched me so casually yet so personally—he knew I needed to leave, to call it a night before my head could no longer win the struggle against my naïve heart…or my sex drive. His focus never left me, but his touch moved down toward my ass, which fit perfectly in his hands. The draw between us, the electric current I’d felt yesterday, it was alive and well tonight. The way he looked at me told me he thought I wanted to kiss him, but our first kiss wouldn’t be here, not like this.

  Gray’s hands found their way upward again, landing at the base of my spine. He leaned in, skimming my face with his own to press his lips against my ear. “When can I see you again?”

  “I’ll be back at the DC on Friday. I’m sure you can find me,” I replied with a wink. I forced myself to break away from him and leave the bar alone. He knew I was flirting, daring him to return the sentiment, but he let me go. Hollering at Lynn and Jenny, I said goodbye. Just before I walked out the door, I turned back. I found him standing exactly where I’d left him when I glanced over my shoulder. Watching me. I couldn’t help but return his grin when he tilted his head up at me, acknowledging my departure.

  This man would be the death of me.r />
  Chapter Two

  This had been the week from hell. I had taken my last exam yesterday and was on my way out to the DC for signatures on the contract. When I walked in, all I could think about was getting the paperwork signed to get Jack off my back. Brett and Dan had selected me for the job several days ago, but we had been ironing out the final details since then, and Jack wanted the ink on the dotted line sooner rather than later. This was a fairly large account, and he acted like without a signature, I might somehow lose it. I was all business until I hit the distribution center floor. He was standing right there. So right there that I walked straight into his chest. He braced me to prevent me from falling.

  “Oh my God, Gray, I’m sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going.” This guy’s presence made me sound like a bumbling idiot. Crap, crap, crap. I couldn’t be this close to him. I realized I was lingering entirely too long and pulled away. Without another word, I headed back to meet Brett and Dan.

  I came prepared, but these two guys threw me off kilter—both signed the paperwork and wanted to move straight into action. They assumed once the ink dried, I would start to work, which would have been fine if my team were here, but we hadn’t planned to begin implementation until Monday.

  I had no other plans, and sleep was overrated.

  It was after seven when I finally wound down, and both Brett and Dan left earlier. I closed my laptop and gathered the forms to take to the office when a horn honked outside the door on the distribution center floor and caught my attention. The forklift startled me—I hadn’t realized anyone other than the cleaning crew remained in the building. They shut down at seven, so all the hourly workers should have been gone by now. With my stuff in hand, I walked out to see Gray coming toward me.

  “Hey, I came to lock up the offices before I left. I didn’t know you were still here.”

  “Sorry. I’m leaving. I had no intention of being here this late, but the suits kept me busy,” I added in jest, unsuccessfully trying to disguise the irritation in my voice.

  He locked the door behind me, and then side by side, we walked down the long aisles in the DC to the receiving docks and left the forklift at the back of the building. The silence between us was awkward; there was no other noise inside the building than the sound of our footsteps on the cement floor. When we arrived at the door out to the parking lot, he stopped and reached for me. I turned and looked at his hand on my arm and then him, waiting. Gray returned my gaze, and every coherent thought flew out of my head. Damn, he was tall, at least seven or eight inches taller than I was. But those eyes…big and childlike, with something in them that made me want to reach out to him.

  “Do you have any plans?” he blurted out. Usually full of confidence, tonight he seemed unsure of himself. It was charming. I liked knowing I knocked him off his game as much as he knocked me off mine.

  “Um…well, sleep was on the agenda hours ago. So no, not really.”

  “I’ve got to clock out, but do you want to get a bite to eat?” he asked with a level of uncertainty, as though he assumed I’d refuse.

  I expected to say no, but instead, I heard myself respond, “Yeah, sure. Why not?” I silently chastised my inner moron, wondering who the hell had answered that question.

  “Really? Great. Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

  It occurred to me I could be out the door, pulling out of the parking lot before he returned, but instead, I stood there, stone still.

  His footsteps jogging across the hard floor signaled his return before I saw him. “What are you in the mood for?” he asked.

  “A burger, I guess.”

  “It’s not fancy, but Applebee’s is down the street. Want to go there?”

  I had no idea what he was thinking and didn’t imagine any woman ever told him no. I would have followed him to the end of the earth, even if I knew he’d push me over the edge once we got there. Like I cared where we ate.

  I couldn’t figure out what it was that had me so enamored. He was incredibly good looking, but I didn’t know him, and he certainly shouldn’t affect me, not the way he did anyhow. Maybe it was simply that he was the first guy I’d bothered to notice since Will, or that he seemed to want to spend time with me. Whatever it was, this would end horribly. It was like a bad car accident—you shouldn’t watch, but you can’t tear yourself away and actually end up slowing down to catch the details.

  “My truck’s over there. Why don’t you put your stuff in your car, and we can ride together? I’ll bring you back after we eat.”

  I must have agreed.

  He headed toward his vehicle while I unlocked my car to throw my bag inside. Once he drove around to pick me up, I had to use the handles to pull myself into the cab. It was a badass truck that sat a tad higher than normal and had big tires. From the outside, I could tell a man owned it—it was rugged and meaty looking. But once inside, the plush leather interior with woodgrain on the dash surprised me. As he pulled out of the parking lot, I buckled my seatbelt.

  I winced as my toes pinched in the shoes I’d had on all day.

  Gray’s head turned toward me when he heard it. “Are you okay?”

  “I know it’s out of the way, but would you mind swinging by my apartment so I can change? These heels are killing me.”

  “Sure, you live over by the mall, right?”

  My brow furrowed in confusion. “How do you know where I live?” I was a bit concerned and wondered if I should be in a confined space with him.

  “I haven’t been stalking you.” His nervous laughter did nothing to set my mind at ease. “Lynn told me you lived in those new apartments off Blaree Road when I asked about you. Don’t be upset with her. She didn’t tell me much.”

  He grinned and veered toward town. When he turned on the radio, Tim McGraw’s “Humble and Kind” filled the air with Gray accompanying the sexy country artist. At this point, there was no turning back. I was in deep trouble with a man I knew nothing about—staring at him, in awe as if he was a rock god, listening to him sing. He glanced over, and my heart ceased mid-beat. It wasn’t possible to love something you knew nothing about, but my heart was trying to convince me that was a savage lie. Rationally, I knew it wasn’t love—rather some odd form of fairytale lust that Cinderella hadn’t warned us about.

  “Do you not like country music? Come to think of it, you don’t look like a country music kind of girl. I can change it.” He reached toward the CD player, but I stopped him. Saying nothing, he took my hand, wound his fingers through mine, and placed them on his knee.

  “I love Tim McGraw. Please, leave it.”

  “There’s no way a girl like you listens to music like this.”

  “I do. And what do you mean, a girl like me?”

  “You know, a high-class college girl,” he responded as though he was telling me the sky was blue or the grass was green. Casual and matter of fact—confused by why I didn’t see something he perceived to be so obvious.

  “I’m not sure if I should be offended or take that as a compliment. But I can assure you, I was raised on country music. Neil Diamond, The Oakridge Boys, Alabama. You name it, my dad played it. I love the sound of a steel guitar and the look of a pair of well-worn Levi’s.”

  He eyed me skeptically. “If I were to get in your car right now and turn on the radio, what CD would be playing?”

  “Tim McGraw’s self-titled.” I gave him a wide grin, knowing it was the truth. I loved all Timmy’s music, but his older stuff was by far my favorite. My loud laughter followed his look of disbelief.

  “I’m going to call you out on that when we get back. I’m not buying it, and self-titled is an easy bet on guessing an album name.” He didn’t believe me, but he was wrong.

  I was a longtime fan—a fan before he was a big name. The first time I ever saw Tim McGraw in concert, he opened for Little Texas at the Memorial Auditorium when I was sixteen. I fell as hard for Tim that day as I did for Gray today—and both made an equal amount of sense. My love affair wit
h Gray was about as likely as one with Tim McGraw.

  It was about a ten-minute drive to my apartment. Somehow, my mind managed to form complete thoughts for the first time since I had met Gray, allowing the conversation to flow with ease. He seemed to be a fairly easy-going guy—fun loving like he’d be the life of the party and able to get along with anyone. He was able to set me at ease in a short amount of time, which was no easy feat.

  When he turned into the complex, I stayed silent and wondered just how much he actually knew. He slowed down as he pulled in. When he reached the fork in the drive, he asked, “Which way?”

  I couldn’t hide my giggle as it filled every word. “What, Lynn didn’t tell you exactly where I live? You’re losing your touch already, Gray.”

  His grin could have lit up the night.

  “Turn right, first building on the left.”

  He snagged a parking place and then hopped out after I did before following me up two flights of stairs. “I should’ve guessed. Top floor. Penthouse kind of thing, right?” he said, like it was exactly where he thought I lived.

  I was a little hurt by the comment and preconceived notion of who he believed I was. I didn’t know why he assumed I was some high-class chick. I wasn’t a snob, nor did I think I was better than anyone—quite the opposite really. I had worked hard to get where I was, and no one paid my freight…for anything. I’d always been independent outside of my relationship with Will and certainly since. My parents hadn’t left me a lot of choice when they’d put so much distance been them and me. Their help would have come with conditions and strings I wasn’t willing to accept, anyhow—they needed an element of control, like…where I lived, what I did, who I spent time with—it wasn’t worth it. If I did it on my own, then I called the shots—and they lost control.

  “Actually, I put in my rental application when they were building the complex. I was so far down on the list when they started renting, this was my only option by the time they reached my name,” I responded as I opened the door. “But I love the vaulted ceilings and the fireplace. The workout coming up and down the stairs multiple times a day is a bonus.” I winked, trying to keep this light-hearted as I let us both inside.