His head tilted, mischief in his eyes. “Not a totally unappealing idea. Maybe you learned more in that training class than I think.”
Her neck burned, the heat traveling up like mercury in a thermometer.
“What were you doing kneeling in the intro class anyway?”
She studied the tops of her hands, his inquiring gaze suddenly too much to take head-on. “I sort of got persuaded by Kelsey.”
A soft chuckle. “Ah, Kelsey. She’s new to my staff, but a very promising domme. If she can persuade you to do something, maybe she deserves a raise.”
Charli’s head lifted, her eyes narrowing. “Right, of course, because I’m nothing like those women in that room.”
He leaned forward, forearms braced on his thighs. “No. You’re not.”
For some reason, the words pierced her like barbed wire. She herself had been thinking in the session she was nothing like those women. But hearing him say it with such conviction lashed at the same battered spot her boss had created when he’d told her she hadn’t gotten the on-air position. Not good enough. Not pretty enough.
She hauled herself up from the couch as if the furniture had caught on fire beneath her. The telltale stinging sensation of impending tears seared her throat. “I want to go back to my cabin.”
He mouth dipped. “We’re not done here. We need to talk about last night, and I need to know that you’re not going to—”
But she was no longer listening as she moved toward the door. She had to get out of here. Right. Now. She wasn’t exactly sure why she felt ready to fall apart. All she knew was she was not going to do it in front of Grant.
She reached for the doorknob but a large palm landed against the wood over her head, preventing the door from opening. “Charli, stop. Why are you running?”
She stared at the door, the polished wood blurring in her vision and Grant’s body heat radiating against her back. He was so close. There was no way she was going to escape without him seeing her tears. She pressed her palms against the door. “Please. I need to go.”
But the words were choked, cracked, revealing what she was trying so hard to hide.
“For God’s sake, freckles. You’re crying?” He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her around. “What’s going on? Is this about last night? Because I am so sorry about that.”
“Yes. No.” She shook her head, staring at his boots because she was too mortified to look up at him.
“Tell me, Charli.”
She didn’t want to talk to him. Didn’t want to lay her shame bare. But in that moment, she couldn’t stuff it down any longer. She swiped at her ridiculous tears. “I’ve spent my whole life working hard, proving myself. And no matter what I do, everyone always wants what I’m not.”
“What are you talking about? Is this about your job?”
“My job, my mother…you.”
“Me?” he asked, sounding genuinely perplexed.
She raised her gaze to him and managed a well-duh smirk. “If I didn’t make it embarrassingly clear last night in the bathroom, I’m attracted to you. And of course, you can’t be a guy who would just want to have a quick fling with someone like me. No, you want the epitome of all that is stereotypically feminine. The gorgeous goddess on her knees.”
The lines around his mouth deepened. “Charli.”
She raised her palm. “Please. Don’t. If you say some pitying comment, I’m going to punch you in the face.”
His shoulders sagged with a heavy sigh. “That’s not what I was going to do.”
She stepped around him, walking to the window on the far side of the room and putting her back to him. “Right.”
She heard his boots against the floor as he turned around, but he didn’t come any closer. “Believe what you want, but let me say my piece. Since the night I found you out on the road, I haven’t stopped imagining what it would be like to get you in my bed. Every time you talk back to me, I want to hush you up in all kinds of creative ways. And last night, it took every letter of my moral code to walk out and not take full advantage of the situation.”
Her blood seemed to halt in her veins, her whole body pausing as if to make sure she’d heard him right. His footfalls sounded behind her, and then his scent was invading the air around her.
“Attraction is not the issue.” His hands were on her shoulders again and she let him turn her around. His blue eyes found hers, the stark desire in them stripping her defenses. “But I don’t have simple flings. I don’t do simple anything. My tastes are intense and specific. And beyond the fact that I don’t want to mess with my friend’s sister, you’re not a submissive. I don’t do the vanilla thing.”
Her heart was a hard, pounding knot in her throat. He was too close for her to get her thoughts in order. “Vanilla?”