The streets are empty when we drive back and Grayson takes full advantage of this, bolting down the quiet streets to try and keep his primal emotions at bay. I watch as his eyes focus on the road ahead, clouding with desire that I triggered. His hands grip the steering wheel tighter than I've ever seen.

We arrive at the hotel and Grayson swigs haphazardly into a spot, practically jumps out of the car, and runs over to my door to open it for me. Taking my hand in his, we walk into the hotel, but I can tell Grayson is itching to pick me and run up to our room. This taking-things-slow is challenging for the both of us.

When we finally get up to our room, Grayson slams the doors shut behind us and looks at me intently. I smile innocently up at him.

"Okay I'm going to take a shower," I say, turning to get my pajamas from my duffel bag. I can only imagine the priceless expression on his face.

"Really?" He finally says, poorly concealing the disappointment in his voice.

I grab my pajamas and underwear and turn to him, running my fingers through my hair. "Yes sir. I smell like absolute ass right now."

It was true. As much as I wanted to pounce on Grayson right at this second, I feel sweaty and gross. I'd feel much more...open if I cleaned myself off a bit, and the dirt covering me doesn't really contribute to the perfect scenario I've imagined.

"If that's what you think you smell like, then I apparently love the smell of ass," Grayson replies.

"Also I could use a shower too. I'll join you," he teases, talking toward me and pulling his shirt over his head. I'm momentarily distracted by his tanned, toned body. Still slightly damp with sweat, every muscle outline and ab is perfectly accentuated.

I'm left speechless at the way it makes me feel. If I want to take a shower alone, I have to get away right now. He's already pulling me in.

"Oh no no no, racer boy," I stutter, backing up into the bathroom. "That shower is only big enough for one of us."

He takes a step toward me, bracing his arms on the door frame and flexing his muscles in the process. His body takes up the whole doorway as he leans toward me. Grayson seems to have shed some of his worries from earlier and now he's operating on pure desire.

He looks so delicious and my self-control is waning. "That shower could definitely fit four people comfortably. Seems like the perfect size for the two of us to do whatever we want to do."

He's right; the shower is gigantic and I'd want nothing more than to test just how many activities we could do within it. But not now. "I just don't think your gigantic head would fit through the door, ego and all. Maybe jump in the pool."

Quickly, before I can change my mind and pounce on him, I slam the door in his face, narrowly missing his long fingers. I quickly strip and get into the shower, leaving the water cold to relieve some of the heat Grayson ignited in my body.

The cold shower barely works and I find my mind trailing back to the vision of him braced in the doorway. His muscular chest and stomach. His mused hair. The way his jeans hung low on his hips, hinting at a light trail of hair leading down toward...

I wash my hair vigorously, squinting my eyes shut. The suds run down my body and I imagine that they were Grayson's hands instead, lightly caressing and exploring. Long after the soap is gone from my body, I stand under the shower and embrace the soothing feeling of the water cascading down me.

I towel myself off and get dressed, eventually deciding to blow-dry my hair a bit. I leave it a bit damp and stare at myself in the mirror. I grabbed my lacy Victoria's Secret shorts and oversized T-shirt, mixing and matching from the two pajama sets I brought. It really looks like I'm not wearing any pants, with my t-shirt covering them completely.

Should I put on a bra? No, no, I'm in my pajamas. Fuck, should I?

I decide against the bra, give myself one last check in the mirror and open the bathroom door. Steam and heat billow out with me, and the cool room sends goosebumps on my clean skin. It's a very comforting feeling.

When I look through the setting steam, I see Grayson laying across the bed, leaning his upper body lazily against the cushioned headboard. He's shirtless, wearing a pair of plaid pajama bottoms. His hair is sopping wet, curling over his forehead.

Grayson hears me and but doesn't look up, turning the page of the book he's reading. From here, it looks like one of those ancient book that hotels place in the drawers. "You must've been very dirty."

He looks up at me lazily. "You were in there for a while," he continues.

I lean up against the doorway, crossing my arms. "How was your dip in the pool?"

Grayson lowers the book and crosses his own arms, leaning his head back. "I actually knocked on the room next door and asked if I could use their shower. A pretty brunette opened the door and said she had just gotten back from her modeling shoot with Vogue. She invited me in and even offered to help take my clothes off. Then she offered to help wash me. Of course, I had to accept."

I scrunch my nose at him, finding myself getting a bit heated at his obvious joke. "I'm surprised your fat head fit through her shower door. Did the hot Vogue model help you through it?"

"Yeah, she did. And she was naked while she did it. And covered in oil. Did I mention she was also a neurosurgeon? World-renowned." Grayson shrugs his shoulders and turns back to his book, but I see him trying to hide an amused smirk.

I straighten and start walking toward him. I tilt my head questioningly. "A neurosurgeon, huh? Good with her hands?"

"Amazing with her hands." He closes book completely and turns his attention fully toward me.

I sit on the edge of the bed, smoothing the covers beside me to distract myself from how attractive he looks. "I guess if your shower was that satisfying, we should just go to sleep then. Do you want me to set up the couch for you?"

Grayson sits up. "Who said anything about satisfying? I was too busy thinking about you to even think about her like that."

"The naked supermodel?" I sit up on my knees, leaning my body toward his.

"Has nothing on you," Grayson finishes, moving toward me. When our lips finally meet, I let out a sigh of satisfaction, immediately opening my mouth and deepening the kiss.

When Grayson's hands touch the bare skin under my shirt, I flinch again, transported back to a dark part of my life. The memories are coming back, the same way they had in Grayson's car earlier. I fight against them, pushing the intrusive thoughts to the side, and focusing on enjoying this.

But Grayson notices. "Do you want to stop?" He asks, concerned.

"No, that's the last thing I want to do," I say, truthfully. My reaction has nothing to do with Grayson and everything to do with me and my past. But Grayson doesn't look convinced, brushing a lock of hair from my face and looking at me intensely.

"I'm fine, Grayson. This is what I want." Then I press my lips back against his, trying to convince him of the truth: that I want him more than anything. His lips move hesitantly against mine, still unsure, before he falls to his desire.

The dark thoughts leave my mind, making room for only Grayson. Perfect.

Grayson moves one hand up to my neck firmly, and the other snakes around my waist, pulling me toward him. With me in his arms, he leans back up against the headboard and sets me on his lap. I move my legs to opposite sides of his body and press my body against his fully. Heat is spreading through my body into his and I can't get enough of it.

He can't either, grasping the back of my neck and sliding his tongue against mine. My arms are around his neck, and my hand finds its way into the damp tangles of his hair. It's soft in my hands as I clasp the locks tightly.

With his mouth still moving silkily against mine, he moves both his hands under my shirt and firmly to my hips. Pleasure courses through my body at the direction contact and I let out a moan. His fingers press into my skin and I'm acutely aware of the almost-desperate desire in his touch.

His hands move lower onto the upper part of my thighs, dangerously close to the seam of my shorts. I sigh into his mouth, moving against him hungrily. He reacts to my movements against him, and his fingertips slip slowly under the lace trim of my shorts, driving me insane. I can't help but curl my toes, trying to keep myself under control, but I'm losing the battle.

Every part of me is pressed against him and I feel a hardness between my legs, telling me what I already knew. I move my core against the hardness, and a raptured groan tears from Grayson's throat. My mind is cloudy, unable to focus on anything but his body.

Meanwhile, Grayson's hands slide smoothly further up my shorts, reaching the lace of my cheeky underwear. I sigh again, playfully nipping at his lower lip and urging him to keep going. I feel a warmth spreading between my legs in response to him, and I can't imagine him stopping.

Then there's a knock at the door.

I tear my face from his, looking back toward the grand entrance. My mind focuses back on reality, but Grayson doesn't seem to care. He pulls me closer to him and places light kisses across my neck and jawline, asking me to come back to him.

"Grayson, there's someone at the door," I gasp through heavy breaths, trying to ignore the tiny shocks of pleasure from his lips on my warm skin. He just groans dismissively in response, sliding his hand sensually back down my thighs. It's taking everything in me to not give into him.

"Grayson," I say again, mustering all the strength in me to make myself sound convincing. I reality, there's nothing I'd like more than to press myself against him again and finish what we started. "What if it's someone important?"

"The only person I care about right now is in my lap, so I really don't care," Grayson mumbles into my neck. Stopping this is the hardest thing I've ever had to, especially with Grayson pulling me back under his intoxicating spell.

I stay sitting upright in his lap with my arms laced around his neck. Grayson notices that I'm not going to be able to let this go and sighs deeply. He removes his lips from my skin and looks me in the eyes. I can tell this is a struggle for him as well, but he gives in.

"Fine," he says lowly. "I'll check. But no promises that I won't hurt the person who interrupted this. I have a lot of pent-up...frustration at the moment."

Grayson places his hands back on my waist and slides me gently to the side. He gets off the bed, fumbling with the front of his pants for a few seconds, before making his way to the door.

I'm surprised when he opens the door and invites the person in. A hotel employee wheels a full cart of covered food into our room, smiling at me politely. From my mused hair and puffy lips, there's no way he can't tell what he were doing before he knocked.

I feel a bit of resentment toward the employee for interrupting the most mind-blowing minutes of my life, but then the smell of the food hits me and my stomach overrides my feelings. I realize I haven't eaten in several hours, since before Grayson picked me up, and the hunger has caught up to me. My mouth waters.

We thank the man and Grayson places a crumpled wad of cash in the man's hands,  desperate for him to leave. I'm no expert on hotel etiquette, but I'm 100 percent sure Grayson tipped the man much more than necessary.

When the man is gone and Grayson has closed the door behind him, he wastes no time climbing back into bed and pressing his lips firmly against mine. But I scoot backward, allured by the tempting smells of the food cart. My body still aches for Grayson, but it aches even more for food.

"What about all the food?" I ask, staring into his dark, focused eyes.

"It's just food," he replies, moving back toward me.

I scoot back again, putting my foot down. "Where did it all come from? I didn't order it."

Grayson sighs dramatically, sitting back on the edge of the bed. "By process of elimination, that means I must have ordered it. While you were still in the shower."

I swoon, touched by his surprise act of romanticism. I kiss his cheek appreciatively. "You ordered all this? That's so sweet."

Grayson's eyes soften. "I thought you'd be hungry after putting up with all that shit earlier. And we missed our dinner reservation, so it was the least I could do for you."

I hug him tightly before turning my sights to the piles of food, scooting to the edge of the bed next to Grayson. I feel like a kid in a candy shop. "It's perfect. Thank you."

"Anything for you, baby." Grayson kisses the side of my head, then starts uncovering the several plates of food.

It's looks like a high-class dinner: steak, mashed potatoes, broccoli, Parmesan chicken, asparagus. Then there are less refined, but still mouthwatering dishes: chicken strips, macaroni and cheese, slices of different pizzas, hot dogs, nacho fries, garlic fries, regular fries, at least five different kinds of french fries.

"I didn't know what you'd like so I just got it all." Grayson rubs his shoulder nervously as I scan my eyes over the array of food. My stomach growls loudly and Grayson chuckles.

"I love it." I pick up a nacho fry and watch gleefully as strings of melted cheese fall from it. "Although, garlic fries? As if your breath didn't smell bad enough."

He laughs at my teasing. "Yeah, I guess I didn't really think that one through. But they taste really fucking good, so I guess it's a risk I'm willing to take."

I'm still staring at the food in awe as I take a bite forkful of mac 'n cheese. "There's so much. I don't know where to begin."

"Well then I guess we'd better start eating."