Secrets, Lies, and Summer Skies

Chapter Thirty

Grayson might have been a pervert, but he wasn't a monster.

Before we headed inside the restaurant, we sat in the car while I tidied my makeup and hair. I had a little capsule of perfume. I sprayed myself with it liberally, hoping to hide the scent of sex clinging to the dress. With any luck, the smell of food and wine would overpower anything that might otherwise waft from me.

Despite all my efforts, I was self-conscious as we stepped through the door. Classical music rolled in calm waves and rising crescendos beneath the sound of polite chatter, clinking glasses, and cutlery tapping against porcelain. Grayson kept his hand on my back to guide me through the tables behind the host who'd greeted us at the entrance. My chair was pulled out, and I forced a polite smile as I settled into it, hoping that any nerves the man sensed might be put down to dating jitters and not because I had a sex toy inside of me.

Sitting down was much easier than walking, and the menu provided enough of a distraction that, by the time we'd both decided what we wanted to order, I'd almost forgotten that Grayson had a remote in his pocket which was tethered to both my pleasure and torment.

We chatted idly. I'd thought it might be difficult to settle on a topic of conversation when we lived together, but I started by asking Grayson about work and he was happy to offload. Of course, I had an ulterior motive for keeping things mundane. I'd been warned that Grayson would turn the toy on whenever he thought I was having naughty thoughts. He'd been purposely vague about what those thoughts might be. I mean, would he have the dildo twist and pulse inside me because I wanted dessert? Or was it reserved for any time he assumed I'd pictured him pinning me down and fucking me like an animal?

I jolted in my seat. The vibration was a mere burst. The short, sharp shock against my clit made me clench my thighs together. Grayson smirked. Holy shit, he hadn't been joking about being able to read my mind. That, or he just got lucky. It could've been that I was an open book, and he could read everything on my face. Grayson had known me long enough to learn about my various expressions, although I'd never considered he might have cared enough to pay attention.

Satisfied that I'd been suitably punished for filling my head with sinful ideas, Grayson returned to the conversation as though nothing had happened. Meanwhile, I had to focus on steadying my pulse and willing the blush from my cheeks. If anyone had noticed what he'd done, they didn't comment on it. In fact, no one turned in our direction at all. They were much too interested in their own company to care what we were doing.

Rather, what Grayson was doing.

"What?" he asked innocently. "I gave you fair warning."

"You're going to get us caught," I hissed back at him.

"Us?" Grayson smirked. "I'm not the one who can't behave, Kitten."

I stabbed my fork into my appetizer and resolved not to make eye contact until I trusted that Grayson had lost interest in his game. My single-word responses to the conversation must have given the impression that I was sulking because, between courses, he reached out and placed his hand over mine in a tender gesture.

"Tell me about college," he said. "I'm running out of things to say about work."

I flicked my gaze upward to meet his eyes. "Really? You do remember why I came home in the first place, right?"

"Let's not relive that part."

"Then, what else is there to say?" I asked.

"I'm interested in your plans," Grayson clarified. "After summer."

I paled. I didn't want to think about the end of summer, not least because Dad would be home and everything between us would come to a screeching halt. That we could continue was a childish notion. Sure, the idea that I loved Grayson buzzed around my brain daily, and he had called me his girlfriend, but it didn't mean Dad would magically accept the idea of us. In fact, when faced with his long-time best friend, Grayson may very well dump me just to keep the peace.