Grayson settled back into his leather chair, whiskey forgotten on the side table. Red's admission, that she'd been needy during her meeting because of his texts, sent satisfaction coursing through him.
"Tell me about this meeting," he commanded, keeping his voice low and controlled even as his c**k hardened at the thought of her squirming in some conference room. "Did you hide at the back of the room?"
"No." Her breath hitched. "I had to present at one point and my boss kept asking me questions."
"Fuck." The word came out rough. "You stood in front of people, delivering a presentation, while thinking about me? About what I did to you on Sunday night?"
"Yes, Sir." The admission was barely audible. "And how your text messages were making me feel."
Grayson's hand moved to his belt, undoi
