Parker woke up to the sound of sizzling. Groggy and ever the grumpy morning person, she rolled out of bed and glared in the general direction of the noise. "Look everyone, she's finally awake." Grayson's sarcasm cut through her sleep haze and she rubbed her eyes, going to the railing and looking down. He was making pancakes on her stove and the smell of coffee swirled through her house.
"Even with the scorn, this is the best wake-up call I've had in years." Grayson glanced up at her, took in her disheveled hair that she'd unbraided and her somewhat wrinkled nightgown, and flashed such a heartfelt smile of appreciation that she almost fell over.
"I assume your weird diet lets you eat pancakes," he called as she started down the stairs. She made a face at him.
"It is not a weird diet, it's a healthy one. I guess to you that's the same thing. Good morning," she added, unable to stop her grin from spreading.
"It's not really morning anymore, but thanks for the sentiment." Parker glanced at the clock above the fridge and did a double-take.
"I slept until noon? What the hell! Why didn't you wake me up earlier?"
"Honestly, I may have fallen asleep. The sun was already up so I figured we were out of danger. Your couch is actually pretty comfortable." Parker nodded and laughed. "So, what's on the docket today? You want me out of your hair after breakfast—or lunch—or would you like to spend the day with me?"
His mention of hair had her running her fingers through her own, but she was momentarily distracted by the words that followed it. "You want to spend the day together?" she asked. Grayson flipped a pancake skillfully.
"Yeah. The thing is, I like you. And based on what happened last night, you like me, too." His mention of the night before had Parker's stomach in knots. He'd barely even touched her but a blush still rose to her cheeks and she thought of the last part of their conversation. He was apparently thinking of it too, because he put the spatula down and looked at her with a serious expression.
"I made a mistake last night with what I said. Honestly, I didn't even mean to say it. It's just . . . it's been a while for me, and I let my intense emotions cloud my judgment. I know we don't actually know each other that well and I don't have any sort of claim on you. Okay?" Relief flooded through her at his words. He'd sensed that he'd put too much pressure on her and she could only nod, grateful. Now that the pressure was gone she could make sense of things. See if this, whatever it was, could actually lead somewhere.
Smiling, Grayson took the spatula up again and continued cooking. In a few minutes he had a stack of pancakes set in front of her on the counter and was working on his own. "You didn't answer my question, by the way," he said, keeping his tone even.
And you can't make me answer, Parker thought to herself. He may not be her Dom, not by a long shot, but still the thought of disobeying his subtle command stirred up mischievous pleasure in her. She ate her food as though she hadn't heard him and heard the spatula being set down again. Grayson breathed deeply in and out while she stared down at her half-eaten pancakes.
"I know what you're doing," he exhaled. "It's a matter of being polite at this point. And just so you know, I have a long memory." In other words, he would remember her defiance if their relationship ever took the next step. Parker gulped but outwardly shrugged and after a moment of hesitation, during which she could feel his scowl, he resumed cooking.
"You'll spend the day with me." He wasn't asking. Done with his own food, he grabbed his plate and went around the counter to sit on the stool next to her. He was finished eating before her and as soon as she was done, he snatched her plate away and set it in the sink with his. "I'll be back in two hours, please be ready." Before she could respond he marched past her and to the door, closing it softly behind him.
Left alone, Parker sighed. Only twenty-four hours ago, Grayson had been the slightly irritating, surprisingly buff art teacher she ate lunch with. Now he was a man who'd expressed interest in dominating her. Had he known what she was already, or lucked out? Maybe he asserted himself over every woman he liked, and based on his looks, even "vanilla" women would want to do anything to please him. That would make sense. Looking around her house, Parker wasn't sure what to feel or think.
Glancing at the clock, she saw that she'd been sitting there contemplating for almost fifteen minutes. Rolling her eye at herself, she hopped up and got into the shower. When she was done she toweled off and blow-dried her hair, something she almost never took the time to do anymore. Putting it in a loose braid that fell over her shoulder and down past her chest, she wrapped the towel around her middle and went to her closet.
What was Grayson planning for their day together? Still a little embarrassed she'd slept so long, she dug through what little she knew about him to try and figure out his plans. He liked sculpture, obviously, and wherever his parents were he wasn't too fond of them. He ate like a teenager. She was pretty sure he didn't like her smoking, even though he'd done it the day she'd met him the parking lot. He was annoyingly sure of himself. Other than that, he was a mystery. A painfully attractive mystery.
In short, she had no idea what they were going to do when he picked her up. Something that could be casual and semi-elegant, then. She pulled out a blue plaid dress that hugged her body and ended in the middle of her thighs and dug a pair of black boots out of her closet. Not knowing if whatever they were doing would last into the night, she also grabbed a black cardigan to take with her. Going back downstairs she turned her iPod on and, with a smirk, blasted Nirvana while putting on her makeup.
There was a pounding on the door an hour later and she jumped up, clicking the music off and flinging the door open to reveal Grayson. He'd tidied himself up a bit, pushing the hair back behind his ears and switching out his customary plaid for a button-down black shirt. The stubble that normally swallowed up his jawline was gone and Parker could see every delicious curve and angle of his face.
As she studied him, butterflies fluttering to life inside her, he did the same. His gaze roamed from the heels of her shoes to the hem of her dress, inching slowly up the fabric until he met her stare. His jaw tightened.
"I'm guessing that music was for my benefit," he said, the calmness of his voice not matching the burning behind his eyes. Her retort got lost somewhere in her throat. Trying to ease the intensity that sparked the air between them, she waved her hand dismissively.
"So, what are we doing? You didn't really clue me in so for all I know, we're going to a rodeo." When he said nothing, just continued to stand there and stare at her, her face grew hot. Was it her outfit? A tinge of embarrassment sprang to life in her chest, one that she tried to beat down. If he thought she looked ridiculous it was his own fault, not hers. "I'm going to go change," she said, turning to run back up the stairs. She only got one step in before Grayson grabbed her and spun her back around.
"Please don't," he said, some of the tension in his face leeching into his voice. There was a slightly desperate edge to it that he was working to control and Parker's face slowly lit up in a smile.
"You like this outfit then?" she asked. She tried to turn to the side so he could see the back, which was mostly just a thin black material that showed her skin. He stilled gripped her arm though, making the movement difficult. He saw enough to get the idea, and a low rumble slid from his lips.
"Change of plans," he breathed. The door shut behind him and echoed in the quiet room, his eyes never leaving her. Parker gulped.
"If this stupid dress ruins whatever we were going to do, I can go change. Seriously. Just stop looking at me like that."
"The dress ruins nothing, I've just changed my mind. You look nice."
"So do you." Though nice doesn't really cut it, Parker thought, wanting to rub her fingers against the smooth skin of his cheek. She couldn't decide if she liked him clean-shaven or stubbly better. "So, um, what are you going to do now?" Grayson cleared his throat and stepped away from her, gaining control over his expression again.
"We're going to get coffee." When Parker glanced back at the still-full pot on the counter, Grayson shook his head. "Fresh coffee, somewhere public. So we can talk." She liked that idea. Hopefully she'd find out more about him and some of the mystery of him would be solved. He was probably hoping to do the same with her. Parker smiled.
"Let's go then," she said. She still felt like changing, but Grayson clearly enjoyed her outfit so she decided against it. Pulling on a jean jacket and rolling up the sleeves, she followed him outside and let him open his car door for her. The interior smelled like him, surrounding her with an intoxicating blend of musk and sweetness. He slid into the seat next to her and pulled away from the curb, the car surprisingly smooth as they drove.
"I don't hate Nirvana, by the way," he said as they turned a corner.
"Hm? Oh, that." She chuckled, having already forgotten. "Good. If you did, I'd have to jump out of this car right now." Grayson rolled his eyes.
"So you like Nirvana."
"Yes."
"What other music do you like?" he asked. She shrugged.
"The music I grew up listening to. Alternative stuff, indie stuff, maybe even a little Jewel now and then." It was Grayson's turn to chuckle. "What about you?"
Instead of answering, he pressed a button on the music player she hadn't noticed before and the car filled with a tortured male voice. Parker glanced over at him in surprise but didn't say anything. The song faded away and another, this one heavy with the screeching of a guitar, replaced it. It ended and Grayson turned the volume down.
"So, not the same stuff I listen to," Parker said.
"Not quite." They turned another corner and Parker could see they were headed downtown. He was taking her someplace busy, then. Smart. They chatted casually for the rest of the drive and quieted when he pulled into a busy parking lot. Cars and people crossed in front of them and it took a few minutes to find an empty spot.
Grayson opened the car door for her again and she got out, adjusting the bottom of her dress as she did. They went into the two-story cafe, a little bell tinkling overhead, and looked around for a free table. There weren't any on the lower level so he led her up and they squeezed around the crunch of bodies and furniture to the far corner. Grayson handed her one of the little menus and they perused in silence.
"What sounds good?" he asked after a minute.
