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  GREYSON: A BWWM Romance

  CASSIE VERANO

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  This eBook is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and situations are complete creative works of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner.

  Resemblance to actual events or persons is entirely coincidental.

  Any unauthorized reprint or use of this book or any portion thereof is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author/publisher.

  Copyright © 2019 Cassie Verano

  All Rights Reserved

  Editing:

  Tina Young

  Cover Design:

  Darleen Dixon

  Wicked Smart Designs

  Contact Me:

  [email protected]

  ISBN-13:

  Printed in the United States of America

  Contents

  CHAPTER 1 - GREYSON

  CHAPTER 2 - NICOLE

  CHAPTER 3 - GREYSON

  CHAPTER 4 – NICOLE (Five Weeks Later)

  CHAPTER 5 - GREYSON

  CHAPTER 6 – NICOLE

  CHAPTER 7 – GREYSON

  CHAPTER 8 – NICOLE

  CHAPTER 9 - GREYSON

  CHAPTER 10- NICOLE

  CHAPTER 11 - GREYSON

  CHAPTER 12 – NICOLE (Two Weeks Later)

  CHAPTER 13 - GREYSON

  CHAPTER 14 – NICOLE (Two Weeks Later)

  CHAPTER 15 - GREYSON

  CHAPTER 16 – NICOLE

  CHAPTER 17 – GREYSON

  CHAPTER 18 – NICOLE & GREYSON (Three Days Later)

  CHAPTER 19 - NICOLE

  CHAPTER 20 – GREYSON (ONE YEAR LATER)

  CHAPTER 21 – ANTON – EPILOGUE

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  CHAPTER 1 - GREYSON

  I moved through the house with stealth. My younger brother, Kent, felt the need to throw extravagant parties at the family compound, with an abundance of alcohol, food, strippers, rappers, and a bevy of gorgeous women who were always willing and waiting.

  Unfortunately, I was always the one who got stuck babysitting. Making sure the occasional drug did not find its way into the family home, no one got alcohol poisoning, no random videos were shot and leaked, and no violence.

  At the age of twenty-five, Kent did not need a babysitter. He needed to grow up and get a place of his own. Instead, because he was the youngest of our clan of four sons, he lived off the family’s wealth as his means of a lifestyle.

  My parents did not withhold their love and attention toward any of their sons, but when they traveled, they wanted Kent on a tightrope of restraint. As the second oldest, yet, most responsible, it was left to me to do the job. I didn’t mind leaving my condo for a weekend or a week to return to the compound, but I did not like chasing behind my younger brother. Especially when I had work to do of my own.

  I had my hands full with this new hotel we were opening. I needed to make an escape to check on things. I was supposed to be meeting the interior designer today, Nicole Cabot, and one glance at my watch indicated that I was running behind by almost fifteen minutes.

  I stopped to check my appearance one final time in a mirror in the front hall. Nicole and I had been Skyping for the last couple of months. It started after she first bid on the job. Throughout the interview process, we Skyped and continued to do so long after I selected her for the job. We had built a good camaraderie, and I couldn’t wait to finally meet her in person. Over the phone and on Skype, there was playful and flirtatious banter between us that I wanted to explore in person.

  Kent didn’t need to know I was leaving, because as soon as he did, the party invitations would go out. No matter that it was ten in the morning, he would find a reason to have a party, and there were always willing celebrants that would show up for free food, alcohol, and sex.

  My family owns a global brand of full-service hotels and resorts in sixty different countries across three continents, known as The Blacks. This latest opening was a boutique hotel that I was opening under the Black umbrella, so it was my brainchild.

  We did not need this latest venture, but it was something I wanted to do in our hometown of Savannah, Georgia. While we had numerous hotels in large metropolitan areas, and exclusive resorts in fantastic vacation destinations, we only had the original The Black here at home. Founded by my great-great-grandfather, it would forever hold a special place in all our hearts because this is where our fortune began.

  The original was perched right on the water, connected to River street by way of Riverwalk. The boutique hotel I created named, The Greyson Manor, would be located on West Bay Street at the corner of Bay and Martin Luther King, Jr. streets.

  Slipping through the side door, I made my way to the parking pad, where I had left my Rolls the night before. Easing inside, I adjusted my music and pulled down the long cobblestone driveway. The Spanish moss trees creating not only shade on days that were scorchers, but also an archway giving the illusion you were leaving one world and entering another.

  Today, the weather was perfect. Letting the top down, I basked in the warm sunshine that glowed all around as I pulled out of the drive, enjoying the breeze.

  On the radio, some poor country soul sang about his wife leaving him and how he was tearing up the highway to find her. I chuckled because I threw a party when my ex-wife left. A party of one. I had no intention of going down that road any time soon.

  Although I had connected with Nicole and looked forward to meeting her, I wasn’t delusional about a potential relationship with her. Women were too much, damn trouble. It would be a cold day in hell before I gave my heart to another one.

  DUST PERMEATED THE air, the sounds of the table and circular saws, drills, and nail guns created a harmony. It was music to my ears because, with every board cut, every nail injected, and each transition piece installed, it brought me closer to my dream.

  This project was not all about the money. Of course, my family was into making money, and everything we did was for money. But this was so much more than that. This was an opportunity to create my own identity and build my status and brand, slightly separate from my family’s name.

  I walked through admiring the progress that had been made in the last twenty-four hours. When I wasn’t babysitting Kent, this was my home away from home. I spent more time here overseeing progress, signing contracts, and making decisions that would impact the future of the hotel than I spent at home.

  “Mr. Black?” Tiffany called from somewhere behind me.

  I turned quickly to see my assistant approaching me with Nicole Cabot, who seemed to glide in my direction. They both wore hardhats, as did I.

  My eyes took in the gentle sway of Nicole’s hips, her beautiful face and dark, glowing eyes. Her full, luscious lips made me want to bite down on her bottom one, sucking at it, and tasting the potential sweetness of her mouth.

  Damn, why did she have to be a business contact? I wouldn’t mind exploring something with her. The woman was sex on a stick, but she wasn’t mine to have.

  “Mr. Black, this is your ten-thirty, Ms. Cabot. I took her to the café across the street to get some coffee since we did not have anything desirable here. I hope that was okay,” Tiffany apologized, nervously tugging on her red hair and glancing between the interior designer and me.

  Of course, it was okay. Now no one knew that I had been late and just arrived.

  “She arrived half an hour ago, but when you didn’t show, I suggested we grab a coffee to pass the time,” Tiffany stated.

  With a nod of my head, and realizing I had been found out, after all, I s
miled at Tiffany. “Thanks, Tiffany. I can take it from here. Nicole, nice to finally meet you formally,” I stated, offering a hand to her and reverting to a former title in Tiffany’s presence.

  The first thing that I noticed about Nicole was that she was more beautiful in person than on video. And her body was created for a man to love. I also noticed she wore no wedding ring on her well-manicured hands. Why that would come to my mind, I have no idea. Her hands were soft and smooth underneath my own, and I found I did not want to let go for some strange reason.

  But I did to avoid any hint of impropriety. The next thing I noticed about Nicole was the way her white and green pinstripe jacket popped against the deep copper of her skin. Big, round pools of milk chocolate assessed me before a warm, subtle smile turned full lips upward.

  “Nice, to finally meet you, as well, Mr. Black,” she said, her lips parted slightly to show the cutest hint of an overbite.

  “I feel like we’ve known each other for a while with all the back and forth conversations we’ve had over the phone and Skype. Now that we’re here together, maybe you can help me put some order to this madness and chaos,” I suggested, holding my arms out wide, indicating the construction work.

  She chuckled. “That’s what I’m here for, Mr. Black.”

  If we were going to be working on this project long-term, and any possible future projects, I wanted us to keep the casual pace we had created over our Skype and phone conversations.

  “I’d like it if we could remain on a first-name basis like we have been using before today. There’s no need to be formal with me. Greyson, please.”

  “Sorry about that. It’s just that...I don’t know. I’m a bit nervous today, but Greyson, it is.”

  I chuckled, wondering why she was nervous.

  “Don’t be. I’m good people. You can relax.”

  “I’ll try,” she said as she continued to stare at me.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes, it’s just that...your eyes are absolutely breathtaking. Skype didn’t do them any justice.”

  I smiled. And although I received that reaction often, I couldn’t help but wonder if she was flirting? I couldn’t tell.

  “Thanks.”

  “All right, now that we’ve gotten that all out of the way, can we get this tour started?” she asked, still appearing a bit nervous.

  “Your wish is my command.”

  I winked at her and pointed in the direction we would head. It was a selfish move on my part to allow her to take the lead. I wanted a view of her ass, and I could enjoy it if I pulled up the rear.

  I led her through the five stories of the hotel, showing the assortment of guest rooms, bathrooms, conference rooms, entertainment, and dining areas. There would be a restaurant that served lunch and dinner. Continental breakfast would be available for consumption in the mornings.

  Nicole insisted on seeing the kitchen area and restaurant, as well.

  I watched as she took notes on her iPad. Her demeanor in person was a lot more reserved than it was in our Skype conversations. I needed to figure out a way to help her to relax and enjoy the flow we had before today.

  She mostly nodded her head as I talked, interjecting questions along the way. This was another first for me. Although I had been in on the ground floor of developing and opening new resorts and hotels with my family, I had never taken the lead.

  We had traditionally used three large specific design firms, who were familiar with our company’s expectations and my father’s demands. Against my father’s wishes, I selected a small, local firm. I wanted to keep everything about this hotel local, including the selection of grocers and farmers who would provide the produce and groceries the hotel would need.

  When we finished, I glanced at my watch again. It was just after twelve.

  “I got a late start this morning, and I know it’s going to be a late night. I never had a chance to grab breakfast, and it’s lunchtime now. Would you like to grab a bite to eat with me?”

  A small frown puckered her forehead as she glanced at her phone.

  “I really should get going, I need to get started on this design, and I have a couple of appointments later this afternoon.”

  It seemed as if time had flown by. And I realized I hadn’t had a chance to just enjoy her presence because we were so focused on the work that lay ahead. Therefore, I wasn’t ready for Nicole to leave just yet.

  “Look, just a quick bite, and I’ll get you out of there as quickly as possible. It’ll be the best meal you’ve ever had,” I promised with a smile.

  A small smirk showed a lone dimple in her right cheek.

  “C’mon,” I coaxed, with a nod of my head. “We’ve spent all this time on the phone, getting to know one another and our working styles. It would be a crime to not take advantage of spending a little more time in person to see how we connect. For the project, I mean. Besides, I’m worried there’s something I haven’t remembered. It’ll allow me to really get to know more about your working style, and for you to really get inside of my head and know my preferences, as well.”

  I could tell that I hooked her with that last line. It was important for any interior designer to know their client inside and out. That was how they were able to appeal to our senses and persuade us that whatever idea they came up with was in our best interest.

  “Okay, but you’re buying,” she said, that amazing dimple sinking deep into that copper skin again.

  “You’ve got yourself a deal,” I agreed, stretching my hand out towards the front doors.

  I followed behind her as she sashayed out of my hotel, the matching pants to her jacket, gripping her long legs and that shapely ass. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more perfect pair of globes in all my life, sitting up high on those legs.

  For the life of me, I could not understand how she walked so gracefully in this environment with those mile-high stilettos. Dust, debris, cords, equipment, and tools were everywhere. Nicole seemed to pass through it all as if it did not exist. Not once did her steps falter, even when I stumbled because I was looking at her ass.

  When we stepped outside into the sunshine, we walked around to the parking lot on the left.

  “We can take my car,” I said, clicking the key fob.

  A moment of hesitation appeared in her eyes before she seemed to settle on riding with me. As she eased into the seats, my finger hovered over the button.

  “Do you mind if I let the top down?” I asked, considering her shoulder-length, mahogany-colored hair that fell to her shoulders.

  “Not at all, do what you would normally do if I weren’t here,” she encouraged.

  That was all the motivation I needed. Every other woman I knew would decline the offer and have a breakdown if I did it without asking first. For some reason, I wanted to see her hair go flying all over the place. This woman had me feeling like a mischievous little boy.

  CHAPTER 2 - NICOLE

  Strikingly silver-blue eyes. That was the first thing that I recognized about Greyson Black. A girl could get lost staring into them. They reminded me of a lake with the moon shining on them at midnight. Those gorgeous almond-shaped, silvery-blue orbs were amazing and breathtakingly beautiful. They stood in stark contrast against his gorgeous olive complexion. If I did not know any better, I would have sworn he was Armenian or Greek. But growing up in Savannah, you would be crazy not to know who the Blacks were.

  The next thing I noticed was his style, everything was subdued but elegant and costly. From the Breguet timepiece, he wore on his wrist to the Italian leather loafers on his feet, I could tell he spared no expenses. But he appeared to be a humbled soul.

  These minor details told me that whatever I gave him in this hotel had to be of premium quality but understated in elegance. He was not flashy; of that, I was sure. I had done my research on the Black family, specifically the brothers.

  Grant, the eldest brother, had made his name in security underneath the Black umbrella and was the chief security
officer for Black International. At the age of thirty-eight, he had yet to marry. Still living a bachelor’s lifestyle, he enjoyed traveling around the world and attending exclusive parties. The third brother, Mitch, was the so-called black sheep of the family. Greyson and his father, Victor, were constantly bailing him out of gambling debts and jail for drunken behaviors and fighting. He had even been caught in a tabloid scandal about drugs a few years back.

  The only thing she could ever find about Greyson was his tireless work at the point of design and development. His philanthropic activities were also becoming a legacy he was creating, much like his mother, Megan had done.

  I had seen pictures of all the brothers, except Greyson. He seemed to stay out of the spotlight. The pictures would not have done him justice, though. All of them were gorgeous men, including their father, whom Greyson looked like more than the rest of them.

  Sitting across from me in a burger joint, he listened as I shared how I decided to go into interior design. Greyson casually raked a hand through his spiked onyx hair, those silver-blue eyes combing over me.

  When I had first arrived at the site, I was nervous in his presence. But the nervousness arose from my attraction to him. But now I felt that synergy return that we had during our phone conversations. And I’d be lying if I said my heartbeat didn’t spike every time, he turned his gaze my way. The man was sexy, there was no other way to put it. He was the type of man you fantasized about. But I had to be careful about that type of thinking. This was business, and I couldn’t blur the lines.

  “So, you’ve been in business for six years now, how do you like it? Being an entrepreneur and calling the shots.”

  I laughed. Greyson could appreciate the challenges and rewards. I guess he was just picking my brain, getting to know me the way I was getting to know him.

  “It has its days, both great and not so great. Making the decisions for the future and the path that I want to take is lovely, but some of the other responsibilities can be burdensome. Especially finding new clientele in a small town.”