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more ways than one. To have her here, now, bent over
in offering while dressed like that… he was so hard it almost
hurt.
    And that wasn’t just a sexy costume,
it was a message. Somehow she knew, had found out his deepest
secret. But how much did she know? And how to figure that out?
    After a moment’s consideration, Grayson made
up his mind. He’d go easy, get a feel for the situation, and take
it from there. If she rejected him, he’d simply chalk it up to
alcohol, and they’d be no worse off than these past four months
since the July incident.
    As he moved in behind her, he had to fight
the urge to slide that scant bit of leather up over her hips right
there and then. “Well, well,” he drawled as she straightened
against him. “Happy birthday to me.” He lightly slid his hands over
her curves and nuzzled his face into that dark fall of
spice-and-sweet hair.
    Rather than moving into his touch, however,
Marion stiffened and removed his hands from her waist. Her eyes
were cool and her lips formed a hard line as she turned to face
him.
    “It would be in your best interest, Jones,
to keep your hands and your mouth to yourself until I give you
permission to do otherwise,” she said in a low, commanding tone.
“Do I make myself clear?” she asked, raising the tip of her riding
crop to press that fold of buttery-soft leather against his bottom
lip.
    Oh, fuck. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck…
    Grayson’s blood ran a shot of ice through
his system before pounding a searing rhythm from his head to crotch
as he realized just how much she understood. His cock twitched as
she lazily slid the end of her crop over his jaw line and tilted
her head at him expectantly.
    “Am I clear, Grayson?” she repeated softly,
but the edge beneath her words was steel.
    Something inside him gave over, almost
immediately. Looking down and away from the goddess before him, he
nodded. “Yes,” he answered quietly, even as his heart raced and his
groin tightened unbearably.
    “Very good,” Marion purred, reaching a
gloved hand up to his face and running a silk-clad thumb over his
mouth. “We’ll work on how you’ll properly address me later,” she
said before giving his cheek a soft pat and turning to lean over
the railing once more.
    He was stunned, awestruck, and completely
owned in less than a minute. Even if he had a clue as to what to do
next, he didn’t dare move without her command. His head buzzed from
the sudden and pleasantly violent upending his world had just
suffered.
    “I’m thirsty,” Marion said pointedly.
    Without a word, Grayson went back inside,
heading for the refreshment table.

Six
    Marion
smiled inwardly as Grayson trailed behind her to her car. What on
earth had she been worried about? She could barely remember her
earlier apprehension now, as she rode her current rush of molten,
sweet power.
    The sight of his façade slipping from his
face on that balcony, of his submission flooding in to take its
place… she would never, ever forget the beauty and sensuality of
that moment.
    Even after tomorrow.
    This was just one night - she’d made that
decision weeks ago. And Olivia’s appearance had sealed that
decision doubly. Eventually, Grayson would marry someone, and it
wouldn’t be her. Best to get this infatuation out of the way once
and for all. Worst case scenario, it would be the end of their
friendship. That’d hurt, but it might be for the best, anyway.
Clean breaks and all that.
    They neared her car and she gestured
silently to the passenger side. She went easy on him in front of
his friends. Once they arrived at her suite, however, he was all
hers.
     
    Silence filled the car, thick and ponderous
over a bed of engine purr and occasional clutch-pedal-gearshift
sounds.
    Grayson wanted to fidget, but he didn’t
move. He sure as hell didn’t dare speak. He was already in trouble
for his ‘impertinence’ on the balcony, and apparently due for
punishment once they reached their destination. Funny how his