Page 217 of Dirty Discipline, Vol. 1

She blinked before turning her head to look at him. Into those silver eyes that could turn her on with a glance. “Gray Woolphe, I love you.”

“I love you, too, baby.”

Gray reached in and unhooked her seatbelt before helping her from the car. Once she was on her feet, she looked at him and smiled.

“My father hated my new suit. He told me to change into my old clothes. I said no. He threatened to fire me.”

When she didn’t say anything further, Gray lifted one hand and brushed a kiss on her palm. “And?”

“I told him I liked my new suit, hated my job, and I quit. What am I going to do now?”

Gray smiled at the note of amazement in her voice. “Why don’t we go inside, you can take off your new suit, and we’ll talk about it? Together, we can think of something.”

Alaina laughed at his comically overdone leer as she turned toward the house. “That sounds like a very good idea. If nothing else, I can always get a job with one of the other agencies in town.”

“No way.” Gray opened the front door for her, then followed her inside, closing and locking the door behind them. “From now on, you’re only doing things you love.”

Chapter Eight

A month later, the Mozart ringtone pulled Alaina from sleep at the same moment her alarm beeped. She rolled over and turned off the alarm before picking up her cell phone.

Swiping the screen, she lifted it to her ear. “Good morning.”

“Are you naked?”

The dark sexy voice, more than the question, sent a shiver of lust through her. Her nipples beaded and juices pooled between her lower lips instantly.

“Not totally,” she whispered.

“Why not?”

“My boyfriend’s gone, and the bed is cold without him sleeping beside me.”

She grinned as he groaned. Gray had only been gone for three days, but these phone calls were becoming torture. Sex talk to start and end each day made her miss him even more. She couldn’t wait until Friday when he would return home.

“What are you wearing?"

“A black thong and the Pirate Wench tank top my super–hunky boyfriend bought me at the beach last weekend.”

Alaina slid her free hand across her chest to tweak her stone-hard nipples through the soft cotton fabric. It amazed her she could get so horny just by Gray talking to her.

“What are you wearing?” she asked, though she knew the answer.

“A smile and a hard-on that could pound holes in concrete.”

His dark, deep voice sent a shiver through her. She slid her hand down her body to rub a finger between her puffy lower lips.

“Sounds painful. Stroke it for me.”

“Strip first.”

Dropping the phone to the pillow, she pushed off the thong, then stripped off the top, tossing them both toward the hamper. Picking up the phone, she laid back before whispering, “I’m naked.”

“Are you wet?” Gray’s voice deepened even further.

Alaina hesitated before answering.

She had come a long way in her confidence since Gray had roared into her life on her thirtieth birthday, but without his silver eyes gazing at her, she found herself backsliding into the socially repressed woman she had been before. The woman who hid her sexuality beneath ankle-length skirts and Southern propriety.

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