Novel & Cerita Grayson From Drop Dead Diva

Grayson tore himself away from my neck, his face was inches away from my own as he looked at me. "Please", he whispered, "Please Laila, let me claim you. I couldn't stand being so far away from you today and not knowing what was happening. When I heard you had been attacked I almost lost it... I can't do that again Laila, I can't pace around not knowing if you are alright". Grayson pleaded with me, the desperation in his heavy voice was enough to make me wince. I hated to see my mate so distraught. My own carnal need to possess him was still raw from my encounter with Jayde and Amara spurred me on, urging me to scream YES!

It didn't matter how much she wished she had the power or the courage to go against what her Alpha wanted in this situation; she just couldn't be confident that she had either. When they arrived at the house, Noah's father was already there, waiting for them. Diego Grayson was slender despite his height. His dark brown hair was styled in a short cut. When he gazed at her, his eyes, which were stony gray and unyielding, were as cold as stone. His wife stood behind him with troubled expression in her blue eyes. The height difference between Vivian Grayson and her spouse was minimal. Noah pushed Gwen through the barrier as she smiled nervously and gave him a shove.

She muttered. He nodded, ‘It's a—' They were both interrupted by the sudden barge of Charisse, she spotted Kathleen and disliked her almost instantly, ‘Who is this??'. Grayson rubbed his temple in frustration and sighed, ‘She's my assistant. Kathleen Turner', then he gazed at Kathleen, ‘Kathleen meet Charisse Watson...my girl....my girlfriend'.

Grayson watches the segments of broken rock tumble back down to earth sheepishly. "I needed your attention," he yelled back, his voice carrying easily up to the window. I roll my eyes, planting my hands on the window sill so I wouldn't go tumbling out. "There would be know no attention to be had if you had knocked me unconscious!" Grayson, despite the situation, lets out a little chuckle, as if it's the most entertaining thing he's witnessed, but he's trying to keep it in. Even I find myself smiling a little. "Sorry, I was trying to be romantic" he tells me.

Greyson's POV I leaned back in my chair, tapping my fingers rhythmically against my desk, my eyes fixed on my computer monitor. I'd read the same line of code seven times. Zoe's cruel words rang through my head on a loop crushing my concentration. That Greyson. I scoffed to myself. I am that Greyson. Zoe is the one who had changed. Not me. Zoe was nothing like the woman I had in my head who I'd planned my life with and she was nothing like the smart, feisty, fiery girl who I remembered from school.

That’s why we wanted you both here to celebrate with us this evening. I was having trouble finding my voice. I was having trouble believing my sister had met and fallen in love with someone without me knowing anything about it. I was having trouble standing next to Grayson Barlowe without dropping at his Italian leather-clad feet in a swoon. He was wearing a charcoal-grey business suit that highlighted the width of his broad shoulders and the long lean length of his legs. His ink-black hair was swept back off his face similar to his brother’s but, unlike Ethan, Grayson had flecks of grey at his temples, giving him a distinguished, older, and wiser look that somehow made him even more attract

Grayson’s lips curved, not quite a smile, but it made Lennon weak in the knees. “Are you?” he murmured. “You look...” His gaze dragged down Lennon's body, again slow and unnerving, “uncomfortable.” Lennon's knees nearly buckled. “I'm good,” he lied again. “Great, perfect, I should...” He gestured vaguely toward the door. Grayson didn't move, didn't even step back, just watched him with that unnerving patience. Lennon's eyes betrayed him then, flicking down before he could stop himself.

"Please… Please just forgive me this once. Give me one more chance, alright? The three of us can be a happy family together. "From now on, I'll only listen to you. I'll never trust another woman again..." He dropped to his knees in the pouring rain, stripped of every ounce of dignity. "My child has nothing to do with you, Oliver. I won't hate you either. From the day you made me sign the divorce agreement, we were history." Oliver stayed on his knees outside my gates all night long. Maeve, on the other hand, packed up her belongings and slipped away in the dead of night, vanishing just as abruptly as she had appeared, leaving Oliver with nothing but a mountain of debt.

Grayson’s terse text. She spotted him waiting beside his sleek black SUV in a dimly lit corner. Mr. Grayson, 48 years old, stood tall and imposing. His broad shoulders filled out his tailored suit. Silver hair showed at his temples. He radiated authority. A calm, predatory smile touched his lips when he saw her. “Raven,” he said simply. As she got closer she wondered what he had got on her bed on the text he sent and how bad it was. She stood in front of him and she suddenly felt like she couldn't breathe with the way the next few minutes played out.

"She used words like liability, and risk exposure, and asked me directly whether I understood who I'd let into our financial systems." "What did you say," I managed. "I told her I needed to hear it from you before I said anything at all." I looked at him across that small table, this man who'd shown up for every hard moment of the past year without asking anything in return, and understood that whatever I said in the next few minutes was going to determine everything that came after it. "My name is Serenity Grayson," I said, the words coming out steadier than I expected, months of practice in front of a cracked bathroom mirror finally paying off in the moment that actually mattered. "I used