Forsaking Gray (The Colloway Brothers Book 1) (8 page)

My head feels numb and fuzzy, and I’m having a hard time focusing on any one thing in particular, so I shut my eyes and let my body instinctually take over, swaying to the booming rhythm. I’m so lost in the thrum of the bass as it beats through my body, that I don’t immediately register the strong hands that grip my hips from behind. But I do register the thick erection that’s now prodding my backside. And I feel the hot breath that’s tickling my neck. The music has now slowed to something sultry, and I open my eyes to see that the dance floor is even more packed, if possible.

Soft lips graze my bare flesh and, even though, my body is slick with sweat from the hours of dancing, it chills at this stranger’s touch. Dr. Howard’s words play through my head.
“It’s alright to let yourself live again, Livia.”
I should pull away, but I don’t. Maybe she’s right. Maybe it’s time I try living again. So I close my lids and lean my head back on his shoulder, moaning.

But instead of enjoying the moment with someone new, I imagine the hands tightly gripping my hips are Gray’s. I pretend the mouth nibbling my sensitive skin is his. I wish that the hand now sneaking around my stomach pulling me tighter as he grinds us to the slow beat of the music belonged to the man I still loved with my whole being.

“I want to fuck you,” a deep masculine voice whispers in my ear. And then he surprises me by brazenly cupping my mound and caressing my clit in full view of anyone who cares to watch. My borrowed dress is short, and with his hand where it is, I’m almost indecently exposed.

I meant to say no, but in my poison-induced fog,
yes
tumbled out of my mouth instead. If I keep my eyes closed the whole time, I can stay lost in my fantasy that it’s Gray who’s caressing me. That it’s Gray’s fingers that will make me come. That it’s Gray who will fill my empty body instead of this unknown man.

The stranger grabs my hand, dragging me quickly through the swarm of damp, grinding bodies to a darkened hallway on the other side of the club. Even with my heels, he’s several inches taller than me, with a broad build and short dark hair. His jeans mold his tight ass perfectly. He takes a turn down another hallway which offshoots to the left and is even darker than the one we’d just left. It seems like he knows where he’s going.

When we near the end, he pushes me back against the wall and plunders my mouth. He tastes like beer and tobacco. His hand snakes under the front of my dress, quickly finding my drenched core beneath my tiny black thong, but at the first brush of his fingers against my sex, my stomach rolls.
I don’t want this.
I can’t do this. I’ll never be able to do this with anyone but Gray.

“Stop,” I pant against his mouth. I break the kiss and try pushing him away, but he thrusts two fingers inside me instead. “Stop,” I say more forcefully this time.

“You want this baby. You’re dripping for me.” His lust-laden voice reverberates through me as he continues to painfully pump his hand into me.

“No, I don’t.” I squirm to get free, but he’s tightened his grip on me and has me pinned in place with his strong body. A familiar panic overtakes me, and I start to fight in earnest. I will
not
be a victim again. Never again. I raise my knee toward his boys, ready to strike, when suddenly he’s pulled off me and thrown violently into the opposite wall.

“I believe the lady said no, fuckhead.” It’s so dark in here I can’t make out the face of the man who’s now come to my rescue, but he’s even bigger and bulkier than the guy who just had me pinned to the wall and I suddenly have a very bad feeling. I don’t wait see what happens next. I turn and flee.

Shaking, I walk as fast as I can in these god-forsaken four-inch heels. I’m on the edge of a full-on panic attack now and I haven’t had one of those in almost a year. I’m halfway to the door, intent on just getting the hell out of here, but as I near the exit, my skin prickles and I dare a glance back.

Watching my every move is the man I just know is my rescuer. His hot gaze bores into me, and he looks pissed. He gives me the same creepy feeling as he did in the hallway. I quickly turn around and push my way through the doors that lead to both silence and freedom.

With deep, slow breaths, I work to keep the panic from overtaking me as I hop in the yellow cab I can’t afford and give the foreign driver my address. I shoot Kam and Addy a quick text so they won’t worry when they can’t find me and sit back on the cracked vinyl-covered seat. One, two, three, four, five. I close my eyes and count methodically as I breathe slowly in and out.

Peter is dead. Peter is dead. Peter is dead
. I keep repeating that to myself.
There is no reason anyone having anything to do him would be looking for you, Livia
. I’ve been fine. I’ve been safe for the last two years.
You’re free
.

I know this, but then why do I suddenly feel like the past has come back to haunt me? In more ways than one?

And why now?

Chapter 8

It’s late in the afternoon and I’m only half way through reviewing the second of three one-hundred-page reports when my phone rings. I almost let it go to voicemail, but decide to glance at the caller ID.

“Hi, Mom,” I answer just in time.

“Gray, sweetie, how are you?”

“I’m doing good, Mom. How are you?” My mother is the best mother on the planet, hands down. She’s feisty and bull-headed, but she would give the clothes off her back for her children and anyone else for that matter.

She tried to be strong when my dad died three years ago, but it’s been hard on her to lose her husband at the young age of fifty-five. College sweethearts, they’d been together for thirty-five years, married thirty-four of them. And it’s been even harder since her three boys up and moved from Detroit to Chicago, although Ash spends a fair amount of time in Detroit at our CFC branch that we still maintain there.

We tried convincing her to move here with us, but she refused.
“I grew up here. My life is here. I’ve already lost your father. I don’t want to move away from my friends and start a whole new life, Gray. I’m far too old for that. Besides, you don’t need your mother hanging around in your apartment when you bring a woman home. No woman wants to marry a man that still lives with his mother.”
That was laughable. I rarely brought a woman to my apartment. And I’d prefer the company of my mother to that of almost any woman, quite frankly.
Almost
.

“I hope you’re not working, Gray. It is Sunday, you know. You need a day off.” Doesn’t matter how old you are, your mother will always mother.

Of course I’m working. I work seven days a week. “Not too hard, Mom,” I reply. I don’t even try lying to her. She would know.

“You’re going to burn out if you keep up this pace. I don’t want you to end up in an early grave.” Her voice choked on the last couple of words. My father had a heart attack at the age of fifty-seven. My mother was convinced it’s because he worked too much and didn’t take care of himself physically. That’s one of the reasons I work so hard to stay in shape and eat healthy. I can’t help the instinctual drive to succeed, but I do try hard to manage the stress of it all, so I don’t end up like my father.

“Mom.” My voice is soft and consoling. “I’m fine. There’s no need to worry.”

“Okay, sweet boy. I actually called because I was wondering if you and your brothers could come home this Saturday for a family dinner? It’s been a while since I’ve seen my boys.”

Shit
. Guilt eats at me for not making more time to spend with my mother. I’ve been so focused on the upcoming board meeting and the new acquisition I’m vetting, that I’ve been neglecting her.

“This weekend won’t work, Mom. We have a big board meeting on Friday afternoon, and I’m afraid I have a dinner on Saturday evening that can’t be changed.”

“Oh.” Her disappointment guts me.

“But I’ll see if next weekend works. Let me talk with Ash and Conn.”

The pep in her voice returned. “That would be wonderful. Maybe you would even have enough time to spend the night on Saturday?”

“I think we could probably make that work, Mom.” I don’t care what my brothers have on their agendas; they’ll have to change it. We’ve all been too neglectful of our mother and I can tell she misses us terribly, but she would
never
guilt us into coming home. “I’ll call you early next week to confirm, okay?”

“Yes, yes. But only if it works. Don’t go changing your plans because of me.” I smile. I would do anything for my mother. “Oh, and Gray…if you have anyone special to bring home, that would be just fine too.”

Oh, I have someone special all right. I just need to find her.

Chapter 9

“Well, Livia, I think we’re pretty close. Can you pull the Winston report and print fifteen copies?” As I turn to find this elusive report he’s referring to I notice Wes running his eyes frantically over his desk, mumbling to himself and scratching his head, as if he’s forgotten something else. Which he undoubtedly has. How this guy even has a job, I’ll never know. I’ve never seen someone so disorganized in my entire life.

As I find the report on the server and start to print copies, I fume. It’s now eight o’clock on Thursday night and not only am I tired…I’m just plain pissed. We probably still have a good two hours of work ahead of us. At least. Wes has a meeting with Jake Campbell, the CEO of HMT Enterprises, in the morning at 9:00 to review all of the materials for the board meeting. We will hand them off and Mr. Campbell will present to the board, so we have to be ready with every piece of information before that morning meeting.

The presentation isn’t yet done, and I’m quite sure Wes has forgotten a dozen other things that he’ll remember as they slowly filter through that muddy thing he calls a brain. For fuck’s sake, I could be here all night.

What a useless twat. The guy must be fucking brilliant to have kept his job. More and more I think that Connie ran things around here. Not him.

I have worked until eight or nine o’clock every night this week. I had to call Addy to pick me up one night because I’d missed the last train. And it’s not that I mind working hard. I
don’t
. I just don’t like working my ass off for a gropey, egotistical, unorganized airhead who can’t even remember what he ate for lunch today.

Umm...tuna on rye, with a side of potato salad, you douche.
I could still smell the stinky fish on his breath every time he breathed on me. Next time I order that for him, I’ll make sure to ask for a handful of mints. A giant fistful. Maybe he’ll get the hint. Or not. He’s pretty dense.

Speaking of Addy, my cell rings. “Hey,” I answer tiredly.

“That good, huh?”

I have to refrain from saying what I really want for fear I’ll be overheard and then promptly fired. “Yep.” I pop my “p” for effect.

“Call me no matter how late. I’ll come pick you up.”

“I’ll take a cab, Addy. You don’t have to do that again.” Not only is Wes’s ineptitude affecting
my
life, it’s affecting my roommate’s.

Asshat.

“Absolutely not. I’m not going to let you spend that kind of money. Or ride with some sketchy cabbie that far. Call me. No matter how late.”

I’m silent, weighing my options until she adds, “Livia. Call. Me.”

“Fine. Okay. Thanks, Addy.”

“See you later.”

We say our goodbyes and hang up just as Wes yells for me from his office. I sigh and roll my eyes as I stand and walk to his door.

“I have the presentation up, Livia. Let’s sit down and go through each slide together to see what I’m missing. Bring Connie’s files from the last meeting.”

Two hours later, we’re finally done and I’m exhausted. Mentally and physically. I’m printing and binding the last of the materials in the copy room when I feel someone watching me. I turn my head and find Wes staring hungrily.

At my ass.