Gray Gutierrez

@grayson-gutierrez

36 posts

it wasn’t like zara hated grayson’s job, it was impressive, he was the dean, the head of the university. what annoyed her was how everything in his life ran on a schedule, and by extension, so did hers. he always had to be available, meetings, responsibilities, people needing him, and even if that was attractive in its own way, she hated having to think about it when all she wanted was him. "right… but it still sucks," zara rolled her eyes playfully. she was good at reading him, and as she hinted at what she wanted to do on the couch, she caught the way his jaw tightened, a smirk forming on her lips. when one of his buttons came undone, her gaze lingered, dark eyes fixed on him before she deliberately acted like she didn’t care. when he called her a menace, she just smiled, she’d grown to like that title. as he mentioned her assignment, she nodded lightly. "short breaks are useful," she said with a small smile. noticing him stilling his tie, she let it go, raising her eyebrows at him instead. when he pointed out the couch didn’t get cleaned often but the desk did, she caught the hint immediately. the slight pull at the corner of his mouth didn’t go unnoticed either. her hands slid from his tie to his chest, stepping closer, closing the space between them, her eyes locked on his. she pushed him back gently until he was leaning against the desk. "lean down already," she murmured with a soft laugh, her hands moving up to the back of his neck as she pulled him closer, pressing her lips to his in a slow, deliberate kiss.

grayson-gutierrez

Grayson gave a low, amused exhale, straightening slightly as he looked at her. “I know it sucks,” he said smoothly. “Believe me, if I could cancel half of these meetings for one afternoon with you, I would.” His eyes dragged over her face, catching that playful eye roll with obvious appreciation. “You wear annoyed with me dangerously well.” When she toyed with his buttons and then acted innocent, he let out a quiet chuckle. “You’re impossible,” he murmured, though the look in his eyes said he enjoyed every second of it. “Smart enough to know exactly what you’re doing too. That’s the real threat.” As she stepped closer and pushed him back against the desk, Grayson let her, hands settling at her waist with calm confidence. His gaze never left hers. “Bossy today,” he noted, voice low and polished. “I kinda respect you for it.” At her command, one brow lifted before he leaned down without hesitation. “Careful, Zara,” he murmured just before her lips met his. “You keep giving orders like that, I might start enjoying it too much.” He kissed her back slowly, one hand sliding to the small of her back, keeping her close against him. Grayson shifted back against the desk as she pressed closer, the wood edge catching behind him while his hands steadied at her waist. He let her have the advantage for a moment, head tilted as he kissed her slowly, deliberately, like he had all the time in the world. Then one hand slid from her waist to trace lightly up her spine, drawing her in tighter. “You know,” he murmured near her mouth, voice silk-smooth, “most people come in here asking for extensions, help with talking to professors, with ideas for the university or about hosting events or parties,” His eyes flicked over her face, full of mischief. “You came in here to test my self-control.”

as he dismissed her idea about the lock, she rolled her eyes at grayson. “you’re the dean—you’re basically the highest authority here and you can’t even put a lock on the door? if you ask me, i’m sorry, but your job kind of sucks,” she pointed out with a shrug. “but since i still think we probably shouldn’t be seeing each other, considering you’re the dean and i’m a student… i’ll trust your judgment,” she added lightly. “so what do we do now?” she continued, tilting her head. “i don’t know, mr. dean. i was planning to ride you on this couch—I’m wearing a nice skirt for a reason—but no, you decided to be a party pooper. poor mr. grayson.” she pointed at him accusingly. “oh, i have a lot of discipline,” she added with a small nod. “but sure… show me what you can do, grayson.” she smirked, shrugging like she was ready for whatever challenge he had in mind. her gaze followed his fingers as they hooked into the knot of his tie. her head tilted slightly while he undid the first button of his shirt, and she just watched him openly, not even pretending to look away. then she gave a small shake of her head, smiling faintly before letting her attention drop back to the ipad resting on her lap, as if she’d suddenly lost interest. “i know,” she said casually. “a menace, if you will.” while he started listing the things he had to do next, she kept her eyes on the screen. “a gap?” she repeated, finally glancing up at him with the same intensity he had been giving her. at his question, she looked back down at her tablet again. “i don’t know.” she stood up and walked toward the table, opening her calendar before glancing back at him. “i was supposed to finish an assignment for friday,” she said thoughtfully. “do you think that little gap would be good to relax… or would i regret it later when i have to rush everything?” her eyes moved slowly from his to his lips. “i’m looking for professional advice,” she added with a soft smile, reaching out to toy with his tie. her big brown eyes lifted back to his face. “so… do you think i should fill the gap?”

grayson-gutierrez

Grayson let out a quiet breath through his nose when she rolled her eyes at him. He leaned back slightly against the edge of the desk, watching her with a mixture of patience and restrained amusement. “My job does suck sometimes,” he admitted dryly. “You’re not wrong about that.” When she challenged the lock situation, he shook his head, gesturing lightly toward the door. “I can’t have a lock on it,” he explained. “Policy. If there’s an emergency, medical, safety, anything, staff have to be able to get in immediately. That’s why the knocking rule exists. People knock, I answer, door stays accessible.” When she casually mentioned what she had planned to do on the couch, his jaw tightened just slightly, though the reaction was more controlled restraint than shock. He dragged a hand briefly over the back of his neck before focusing back on her. “Damn, I think I could've worked that into my schedule somewhere.I would opened up a slot just for that." When she pointed at him and called him a party pooper, he gave her a long look. “Tragic reputation,” he replied. “I’ll try to survive it.” As she claimed she had a lot of discipline, his brow lifted a little in quiet skepticism. “Mm,” he said. “I’m sure you do.” He loosened his tie slowly while speaking, mostly because the room felt warmer than it had a few minutes ago. The first button of his shirt came undone, but his attention stayed on her face, watching the way she observed him so openly before suddenly looking back down at her iPad like nothing had happened. “A menace,” he repeated, a faint smirk forming. “That sounds about right.” When she asked about the gap in her schedule, Grayson shifted back into something closer to his professional mindset. He crossed his arms loosely, listening as she explained about the assignment due Friday. He walked a few steps closer to the table when she pulled up her calendar, glancing down briefly at the screen. “If you were one of my advisees,” he said thoughtfully, “I’d tell you the same thing I tell everyone.” His gaze lifted back to her. “Short breaks are useful. They keep you from burning out." When she stepped closer and started toying with his tie, Grayson went very still for a moment. His eyes dropped to her hand, then back to her face. His hand came up and gently, but deliberately, caught the tie just below where her fingers were playing with it, stilling the motion without yanking it away. “Professional advice,” he continued, voice quieter now, “The couch,” he said thoughtfully, “doesn’t get cleaned very often.” His attention returned to her, one eyebrow lifting slightly, before turning to look at the desk behind him. “The desk does.” The comment was delivered in the same calm, measured tone he’d been using the whole time, though the faintest hint of dry amusement tugged at the corner of his mouth.

as he told her she made his schedule feel less hectic—that she was the only student who made him forget the time—she smirked. “good. i’d be offended if i wasn’t,” she teased lightly. when his forehead rested against hers, she rolled her eyes, though the closeness made her pulse quicken. “fun with limits? that just sounds boring as hell, gutierrez,” she joked. “people live for the thrill of almost getting caught… but not you,” she added, pulling back just enough to look at him. her dark eyes held his as he admitted he liked her, that he wouldn’t stop if he didn’t have appointments lined up. “you could forget about them,” she murmured, though she shook her head right after. “but i won’t say that, because we both know you love your job too much.” when he mentioned patience being part of the game, she groaned softly. “oh, grayson, don’t start with that,” she laughed. at his question—whether she planned to keep testing him or just enjoy being close—she tapped her fingers against her lips, pretending to think. “i kind of want to torture you for being such a buzzkill,” she smirked. but the moment his thumb brushed over her knee, her resolve faltered. “you tell me to behave, but you’re not exactly pushing me away,” she teased. “honestly, you should invest in a lock,” she added with a soft laugh. then, deliberately, she pulled away, picking up her ipad and leaning back against the sofa’s arm, putting a little distance between them. “wouldn’t want to ruin you before your precious appointments,” she said lightly, watching him carefully. his name slipped from her lips slower this time. “so… grayson. what do we do now?”

grayson-gutierrez

Grayson didn't miss the way she retreated, but he didn't let the distance last. His gaze remained anchored to hers, watching with a quiet, focused intensity that cataloged every flicker of teasing defiance in her expression. As she settled against the arm of the sofa, he mirrored her movement, leaning forward until the space she’d just created began to vanish again. A faint, knowing tug appeared at the corner of his mouth. "A lock?" he repeated, his voice dropping to a low, resonant hum. "I don't know if I'm allowed one of those. My room is a open room to students." He ignored her comment about being a buzzkill, his focus entirely on the way her name for him sounded when she slowed it down. "What we do now," Grayson murmured, his eyes searching hers with a blend of professional composure and a very unprofessional hunger for the thrill she’d just described, "is see if you actually have the discipline you're currently pretending to have." He tilted his head slightly, his shadow falling over her as he encroached on her newfound distance. "You want to torture me? Fine. But don't expect me to make it easy for you to do it." With a low, huffed breath that was half-laugh and half-exasperation, he reached up, his fingers hooking into the knot of his tie. He gave it a sharp, deliberate tug, loosening the silk until he could undo the top button of his shirt. He stood up, the movement fluid and commanding, and walked the short distance to his desk. Instead of sitting behind it, he leaned back against the front edge, crossing his ankles and resting his weight against the polished wood. He picked up a small stack of files, idly thumbing through the top few pages, though his focus remained entirely on the woman across from him. "You're a distraction, you know that?" he murmured, his voice dropping an octave as he glanced up from the paperwork. "Let’s see first, I have a third-year who needs me to mediate a conversation with Professor Thorne about an extension. Apparently, 'existential dread' isn’t on the approved list of medical excuses." He didn't look away as he turned to the next sheet, his expression softening into something more mischievous. "After that, I have to present the mid-semester student reviews to the governors." He paused, his dark eyes locking onto hers with a slow, deliberate intensity. "And then, I have a gap. A very small, very dangerous window of time where I’m supposed to be 'prepping' for tomorrow. So, tell me, are you gonna fill that gap, Zara?"

zara loved how natural everything felt around grayson; she could be herself, and he liked exactly what he got. “oh, you can definitely call me yours,” she smirked, her gaze dropping from his eyes to his lips like a challenge, her eyes glinting with excitement. “you’re a busy guy,” she smiled. “i’m dating the only student, soon-to-be graduate, who actually gets paid by the campus itself,” she chuckled, looking at him as she stuck her tongue out playfully. “disobedient? this is starting to sound like one of those wattpad office romances,” she flirted, her voice dropping to barely above a whisper as she crawled closer to him. when he pulled her into his lap, she smiled. “great, what a great idea,” she said, her hand moving to cup his cheek as their lips crashed into each other. she was ready to keep going when he pulled away, pressing his forehead against hers. “good, i didn’t want you changing it,” she mused, already leaning in to kiss him again, this time more heated, more needy. his hand slid to the small of her back, pulling her closer, while his other hand gently tugged at her hair. she gasped into the kiss, ready to forget where they were, but he pulled away once more. she sighed, pulling back to look at him. “you’re such a bad office pet,” she muttered, shifting out of his arms to sit beside him, her legs still draped over his lap. “it’s not fair,” she pouted, crossing her arms over her chest as her long curls spilled down the couch. “you’ll regret this, french-kissing me and getting me all worked up just to stop,” she sighed. “you’re not fun,” she added, challenge thick in her voice, waiting to see if he’d cave or hold his ground.

grayson-gutierrez

When she brought up being busy and the campus job, he chuckled, tilting his head to watch her with amusement. “Yeah, I’m busy,” he said, hand brushing over hers resting near his chest. “But I’ve got time for the things that matter. And you, well, you make the schedule feel a lot less hectic.” His smirk returned, cocky but warm. “You’re the only student who can actually make me forget what time it is.” Grayson let out a low chuckle, pressing his forehead lightly against hers again, his hands still resting on her back and hair, but deliberately steady, controlled. “Hey! I am fun,” he said, voice low, teasing, but careful. “Just fun with limits. Not the kind that gets me in trouble if somebody knocks and sees me getting handsy during work hours." He leaned back slightly, just enough to let her see the playful smirk tugging at his lips. “I like you, Zara,” he added softly, eyes locking onto hers. “I like all of this. I wouldn't stop if I knew I didn't have appointments lined up soon and scheduled meetings." When she pouted, crossing her arms, he tilted his head, brushing a curl behind her ear. “You’re irresistible,” he said, voice husky, “but patience is part of the game. And trust me, it’ll be worth it.” He let the pause hang, giving her the moment to react, then leaned closer again, careful not to reignite the kiss too soon. “So, you gonna test me some more, or are we just going to sit here and enjoy being dangerously close for now?” Grayson’s lips curved into a slow, knowing smile as he looked at her, thumb brushing lightly against her knee. His voice dropped, teasing but calm, very aware of the door behind them. "What’s your excuse going to be if someone knocks and we're both disheveled messes?”

"it’s bold of you to assume i think of you 24/7. more like 12/7—i need my beauty sleep," she teased back, a smirk on her lips. it was true that she thought about him way more than anyone would expect, especially since they lived together, but she wasn't about to give grayson that satisfaction. "sixty... ninety... same shit. he’s annoying and i don't like him, next question," she chuckled. zara nodded at his words. "i’m just that smart. i know a crime is gonna happen before it even does. call me psychic, call me yours—honestly, just call me," she winked. she’d had that line locked and loaded in her head, and for zara, this was the perfect moment to use it. when he joked about her running the office and demoting him to office pet, she lost it. "what’s bold is assuming you could even afford me," she laughed. "i’m incredibly expensive. but yeah, you’d definitely be the cutest office pet," she added with another playful wink. zara was never easy to read; she had a mind of her own and loved keeping people on their toes. just like the first time she’d kissed him—she hadn't waited for permission, it was pure confidence. it was the same energy she had now, crawling slowly across the couch toward him. she noticed the blush creeping up his ears, and the sight gave her a surge of pure satisfaction. "oh, i know you’re here now. you’re also blushing, which is adorable, and i’m obsessed with it," she nodded. as he reached for her waist, her smile widened. she was loving every second of this. the way he looked at her was enough to make her melt, her arms feeling weak as he pulled her closer until her chest was pressed against his, close enough to feel his warm breath. "what i had in mind was kissing the hell out of you right here," she said softly, the words barely a whisper. "i still haven't checked 'making out on this couch' off the list. i’m an expert on the one at our place, but this one..." her fingers trailed down his jaw. "we still need to test it out," she whispered. she leaned in, her hands cupping his face as she pressed her lips to his—slow and passionate at first, wanting to savor the moment and let the rest of the world just disappear.

grayson-gutierrez

Grayson scoffed softly, a smug smile tugging at his mouth. “Twelve out of seven?” he said, leaning back just enough to look amused. “I’ll take it. I respect a woman who schedules her obsession responsibly.” His hand brushed her knee like it belonged there, casual and confident. At her dismissal of the guy, he nodded solemnly. “Glad we agree,” he said easily. “If you don’t like him, that’s all the argument that I need to have." Her psychic line earned a low chuckle from him. “Careful,” he murmured, eyes bright and locked on hers. “Keep talking like that and I might actually call you mine.” The smugness crept in naturally, like he knew exactly what effect that would have. When she laughed about affording her, he laughed too—warm, unbothered. “Expensive suits me,” he said. “I’ve always had impeccable taste. I'm also the only soon to be graduate here that gets paid by the campus itself.” He tilted his head, grin turning wicked. “But yeah, I’d be probably a great office pet. Loyal. Well-trained. Occasionally disobedient.” As she crawled closer, he didn’t retreat—if anything, he leaned in, eyes darkening as he noticed her satisfaction. When she mentioned kissing him, his breath hitched just enough to give him away, though his voice stayed smooth. “Funny,” he said quietly, pulling her in without hesitation. “That’s exactly what I had planned the second you straddled me just now." Her lips met his, and he kissed her back just as slowly, just as deliberately—hands steady, sure, like there was nowhere else he’d rather be. When he finally pulled back a fraction, his forehead resting against hers, he smirked. “Yeah,” he murmured, completely enamored. “This couch definitely passes inspection.” Before she could tease him back, he leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss with tongue that was daring and playful. He pressed closer, one hand sliding to the small of her back, the other threading through her hair and giving it the gentlest little tug. "Steady now, I'm going to get carried away if I keep going."

zara’s grin only widened as grayson agreed to knock on his office door so he wouldn’t startle her. “you’re a good scout, thanks, gray,” she smiled, sticking her tongue out at him childishly. “oh, you’d never be able to pay for my services, gray, i’m expensive,” she joked, a playful smile still on her face. she liked to imagine she’d be doing something great when she worked for real, but for now being around grayson was enough—she was lucky to live with him, and now that she’d basically claimed his office, she had even more places to keep him close during the day. “oh, you definitely should make it a habit,” she nodded, “or i’ll just have to steal it from you the same way i stole that first kiss.” she wiggled her eyebrows at him, teasing. when he pulled her attention back, she rolled her eyes. “you’re too full of yourself if you think i’ll think about you 24/7,” she laughed, “but keep going.” she huffed dramatically. “they’re a bunch of assholes for lying to that poor man—how old is he, ninety?” she exaggerated, pouting. “he’ll be devastated when he finds out, poor guy.” she shook her head. “and that’s bad, they should be asking for more money and keeping both departments at the same standard. if there’s a murder in this building, i’m calling it now—it’ll be that professor either crying or getting revenge.” she chuckled. “and bold of you to assume that just because i’m in here i’m your secretary.” pushing the table aside, she crawled toward him on all fours across the couch, voice dropping. “i was waiting for you so we could have fun.”

grayson-gutierrez

His mouth twitched upward at the sight of her sticking her tongue out at him. It was ridiculous how something so childish made him want to grin like an idiot. When she joked about being too expensive to hire, Grayson snorted. “Oh, trust me, I can’t afford you,” he said, leaning back in his chair like he wasn’t hanging on every word she said. “You charge in chaos and attitude and I’m broke.” Her teasing about stealing his things—and that first kiss—made Grayson’s brain short-circuit for a second. He scoffed, trying to hide how the memory hit him square in the chest. “Please,” he fired back, smirking, “I know you think about me at least 23/7. I’m giving you an hour off for sleep. You’re welcome.” When she called the faculty “a bunch of assholes” and exaggerated the professor’s age, Grayson let out a startled laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Zara—he’s like… sixty. Not ninety.” He paused, amused. “Though with the way he complains, yeah, I get why you’d round up.” Her dramatic prediction about the professor committing murder had him snorting into his hand. “Oh good, so you’re pre-logging crimes now. Great. I should put you in our ethics committee group.” Then she went for the secretary line, and he put a hand to his chest in mock offense. “Bold of you to assume I’d hire you,” he shot back with a grin. “You’d run this place within a week and demote me to office pet.” But any comeback he had evaporated the moment she crawled across the couch toward him on all fours. His breath caught—just a little—and he watched her approach like it was the only thing happening in the world. Her voice dropped. Grayson swallowed, trying to look unimpressed, but his ears betrayed him by turning pink. He tilted his head, smirk returning, soft around the edges. “Yeah?” he murmured. “Well… I’m here now.” And God help him, he liked her in his office. Liked her taking over his space. Grayson didn’t even pretend to stay upright. The moment she reached the cushion in front of him, he let himself ease back against the arm of the couch, shoulders relaxing, posture opening—as if inviting her into the space without a word. His hands lifted automatically, fingers brushing the sides of her waist before settling there, warm and steady, like he’d been waiting to hold her exactly like this. He tilted his head, eyes tracking her every movement with that soft, puppyish attention he tried so hard to hide behind sarcasm. A slow grin tugged at his lips. “And what,” he murmured, voice dropping as he gave her waist the faintest pull toward him, “did you have in mind?”

zara rolled her eyes playfully at grayson. “sure, sure, but knock next time,” she insisted, winking at him teasingly. she tried to seem unbothered as he walked toward her, a smile playing on her lips while she waited for him to get closer. “it’s researching people’s lives, i’m like an inspector,” she chuckled, setting the ipad aside just as he bent down to kiss her. she smiled against his lips. “see, that’s what i call a good greeting,” she grinned, scrunching her nose at him. “go, mr. dean! get your grades up so you’re not the bad influence in this relationship,” she teased. when he sat beside her, zara pretended to focus on her ipad again, acting disinterested—until his hand brushed near her shoulder. she looked at him, a wicked smile tugging at her lips. “oh, so you want me thinking about you 24/7?” she asked, smirking as she set the ipad down and shifted closer, her gaze locked on his. “what secrets are you going to tell me, mr. dean?” she whispered, her tone playful but edged with curiosity.

grayson-gutierrez

Grayson chuckled under his breath at Zara’s teasing, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Noted,” he replied, voice light as he raised his hands in mock surrender. “Next time, I’ll make sure to knock on my own office's door —scout’s honor.” As he stepped closer, he couldn’t help but notice the way her lips curved in that confident little smile, the one that always made his chest tighten just a bit. Her comment about being an inspector drew a grin from him. “An inspector, huh? Remind me never to end up on your case,” he said, his tone matching her playful energy. When she smiled against his kiss, he couldn’t stop himself from smiling too, a quiet laugh escaping as he pulled back just enough to meet her eyes. “A good greeting, huh? Guess I’ll have to make it a habit,” he murmured, clearly enjoying her reaction. Sliding onto the seat beside her, he watched her pretend to focus on the tablet, the corners of his mouth lifting knowingly. His hand brushed near her shoulder—not by accident—and he caught her glance immediately. “Oh, so now I’ve got you distracted?” he asked with an amused tilt of his head, voice dropping just slightly. Her smirk drew his in kind. “Thinking about me 24/7 doesn’t sound too bad.” At her question, his gaze softened but didn’t waver. He grinned, conspiratorial. “Alright. So, apparently, there’s a new proposal to shuffle department budgets around, boring faculty stuff, I know. Completely under the radar. Faculty are pretending it’s just routine housekeeping, but they’re actually reallocating research funds from History to Computer Science. Think about that, crazy, and they're going to lie about it to the History Professor!" Grayson pressed a hand to his chest, gasping theatrically. “I am shook." He leaned back, hand pressed to his chest again, and suddenly softened, as if remembering someone else might have secrets too. “Enough about me,” he said, voice conspiratorial. “What secrets have you learnt reading files this afternoon? You caught up on what meetings I have scheduled for this week?"

at the sight of grayson she smiled. “you don’t need permission, you could’ve knocked though,” she mused, glancing up from her ipad before looking back down, pretending to be unbothered even though she was quietly soaking up every second he looked at her. “oh, i thought i owned this office now? didn’t i give you my meeting schedule?” she teased, lowering the device to look at him. “i was waiting for you, but i have no idea where the hell you were,” she said, setting the ipad on the desk. “i was stalking people,” she chuckled, “seeing what they’re up to, who’s got a baby, who hasn’t… that’s why my hair is so big—full of other people’s secrets,” she joked, quoting a movie line. “i was going to ask how you’ve been, but no hello kiss? that’s rude—more rude than startling me while i’m doing really important stuff.”

grayson-gutierrez

Grayson lingered in the doorway a moment, a crooked smile tugging at his lips at her playful jab. “I figured deans don’t need permission, this is my office after-all” he replied, his tone light, but the way his gaze lingered on her betrayed the fondness he was trying to downplay. Crossing the room with unhurried steps, he let her teasing wash over him, the mention of meeting schedules and stolen offices pulling a low chuckle from his chest. “You call stalking people important work?” he asked, arching a brow as he leaned casually against the edge of her desk, his arms folding across his chest. Her quote made him shake his head, amused, though he couldn’t keep from smirking at the way she set the iPad down, all but inviting his full attention. Finally, he bent down, brushing a kiss against her lips with deliberate slowness, as though conceding her point. “There’s your hello,” he murmured, straightening with that same quiet confidence. “And for the record, I was in class getting my study on." Without another word, he crossed the office and dropped heavily onto the couch beside Zara, sprawling in a way that suggested he owned the space just as much as she teased he did. One arm stretched lazily along the backrest, his fingertips brushing close enough to her shoulder that the touch was more implied than given. “You know,” he drawled, turning his head toward her with a grin that carried a hint of mischief, “if I’d known you were just here, waiting, spying on everyone else’s lives, I would’ve hurried. Can’t have you filling your head with all those secrets when you could be filling it with me instead.”

feelings were out, they wanted each other and they didn’t want anyone else. she had to realize that with both her knees scraped and her makeup ruined, but there she was, sitting on one of the couches in his office as if she owned the place. he wasn’t there, but it wasn’t like she cared. her feet were thrown over the couch arm as she scrolled through her ipad, supposed to be getting work done with her last year of college just starting, but instead she was bored and stalking people on instagram when someone walked in. she quickly covered the screen only to see grayson there. “you scared the shit out of me,” she chuckled, “don’t you know how to knock?” zara asked mischievously. @grayson-gutierrez

grayson-gutierrez

Grayson froze in the doorway for half a second, eyes widening before breaking into a grin he couldn’t contain. The sight of her there—chilling, gorgeous, completely unbothered—was a kind of surprise that hit him in the chest. “Well damn,” he breathed, shutting the door behind him as if to keep the moment to himself. “I didn’t realise I needed permission to walk into my office.” His voice carried amusement, but his gaze softened the second it landed fully on her. "You know,” he said, lowering his tone just a little, “you sitting here like you own the place? Can’t say I mind the view or the distraction." He dropped into the chair across from her, leaning forward on his elbows across his desk. “What were you doing to keep yourself occupied?"

zara looked at grayson, her heart pounding so hard it hurt, her hands fidgeting uselessly because she didn’t know where to put them. she was a mess—makeup smeared, knees scraped and bleeding, dirt clinging to her skin—and for once, she was too exhausted to care. when he told her she couldn’t pretend innocence after what she’d done, her lips pressed into a thin, tight line. “yeah, well…” she started, but he was right. there was no excuse. “i wasn’t thinking,” she admitted, voice heavy. “i’m loud, i’m always in the spotlight, and i could say i only did it because people expect me to—but you want the truth? fine.” her tone cracked, exasperated, as a tear slid down her cheek. “i wanted to make you jealous. i thought it wouldn’t mean anything after, i thought you’d just hold me tighter, but it backfired.” the words came out raw, honest, no point in pretending otherwise. when grayson said he didn’t go into that room with jess because he wanted to, but because he was tired of feeling like shit, it hit her like a weight. “i don’t know the shit you carry, grayson,” she murmured, shaking her head, but when he admitted that no matter how long jess stared, it would never matter because she wasn’t zara, her breath caught. she hadn’t realized that while she was busy trying to push his buttons, she’d been the only one he was looking at. “you can say it,” she whispered, “i fucked up.” when he stepped closer, she didn’t move, didn’t open her eyes, too tired and ashamed to do anything but wait for the final blow. he hadn’t asked to be his secret, it had just happened, maybe because it was fun at first, the thrill of hiding, the adrenaline of being something forbidden. but they’d never once talked about what it really meant. so she sat there, eyes squeezed shut against the sting of tears, until she felt him kneel in front of her. she blinked her eyes open, not daring to look at him, just staring at his hands as he pulled out a wipe and dabbed gently at the scrape on her knee. it burned and she hissed, but she didn’t pull away, too drained to resist. then he covered it with a plaster, careful, steady, not because he had to, but because he wanted to—because maybe he knew that’s what she needed. when his confession came, when he asked her to admit what they’d both been circling around, she finally met his eyes. zara wasn’t the type to be speechless, not ever, but her lip trembled, her throat tight. she dropped her gaze for a second before nodding. “i like you, grayson,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “i like you a lot. i don’t want anyone else but you.” the words came out soft, trembling, but true. then she leaned forward, wrapping her arms around his neck, clinging to him as if she could pull him into her chest, into her apology. “i’m sorry,” she breathed, and this time, she meant it with everything she had.

grayson-gutierrez

Grayson didn’t interrupt her. He let every word spill out, sharp and messy, but real. Watching Zara—makeup smeared, dirt clinging to her skin, knees scraped—he saw past the wreck of her appearance and straight into the exhaustion in her eyes, the way her hands fidgeted like she didn’t know how to hold herself together. She still looked beautiful. When she admitted she’d only wanted to make him jealous, it burned, but the crack in her tone and the tear sliding down her cheek made something in him ache instead of harden. “You don’t have to say it,” he murmured after her whispered I fucked up. His voice was steady, not cruel, carrying a gentleness she probably didn’t expect. “I fucked up too. I should've just asked you to follow me out of that room and into another instead of just doing my dare." Usually, communication was his strong point. He smoothed the plaster into place, slow and deliberate, like it mattered—because it did. She mattered to him. When her eyes finally lifted to his and the words broke free, his chest tightened. For the first time in what felt like forever, his mouth tugged into the smallest, truest smile. “Good,” he whispered back, eyes never leaving hers. “Because I don’t want anyone else but you either. Bad way to start things off, I know, but honestly I wish I could just reverse the last couple of minutes." Then she was on him, arms wrapping around his neck, clinging to him. He held her without hesitation, strong arms winding around her waist, steady and sure. “I know and I'm sorry too” he breathed against her hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. Grayson closed his eyes as he held her tighter, content at last. "Next time we talk, okay? I'll get things off my chest and I want you to do the same with me."

grayson-gutierrez

Grayson hadn’t expected to see her like that. The second he stepped out of the room, still pulling his shirt together, heart pounding for all the wrong reasons, he froze and went outside. He wanted to call her name, but before he could get a word out, she was already up on her feet, eyes blazing. The words hit harder than any punch. He didn’t even flinch—he just stood there, watching the heartbreak twist her face, wishing he could erase the last twenty minutes of the night. His brows drew together, frustration and regret colliding in the tightness of his chest. His voice came out low, a little hoarse.“Zara… come on.” He took a slow step forward, careful, like getting too close might make it worse. “You really think I wanted to go in there with her?" His hand hovered at his side, clenched and unsure. “You were dancing on someone else like I wasn’t even in the room. Like everything between us was just some… joke. I know it was a game, but god, Zara, it didn’t feel like a game.” He looked at her, really looked, and it hurt. The sting in her eyes, the shake in her voice—it wrecked him. “I lost it. I didn’t know what to do. So I did something stupid.” He ran a hand down his face, trying to collect himself, his voice softening. “But I didn’t kiss and do whatever because I wanted too. I did it to make you jealous." He finally looked her in the eyes, quiet but steady. “You’ve got every right to be pissed. I get it. But don’t think for a second I care about Jess. That was nothing. She knows it too. She saw how I was looking at you from across the room. Yeah, we did the dare, like everybody else in that room is doing. Like you did too. Yes, we kissed and did other stuff in the closet because the game's the game." His voice dropped, gentler now—honest, even if it made him ache. “You’re not just some game to me though, Zara. You never were. You don’t get it… You ruin me." Grayson’s heart thudded in his chest. “And seeing you do that,” he said, voice rough and low, the frustration and hurt bleeding through, “dance on some guy like that… see his hands on you—it fucked me up.” He swallowed hard, the words catching in his throat like they were heavier than anything he’d ever said. “I didn’t know how else to deal with it so I got revenge. I'm a dick - I know."

"zara, come on?" she mocked him, "zara, come on?" she repeated, louder this time. "i don't fucking know if you wanted to go in there with her, but i fucking know you didn't waste a single second," zara pointed out. she hadn’t done it either, but there was a difference between dancing with a guy fully clothed and having sex in a closet. she didn’t want to listen to him, she wanted to scream, maybe even slap him, but instead, she just stayed on the floor, her knees bleeding, hurt and hating every second of that stupid party. "to make me jealous? okay, fine," she rolled her eyes, "i’m fucking jealous, happy?" she snapped, standing up and brushing the dirt off her little skirt. "does she know? the way she looks at you says something else—she wants you, and i don’t blame her," she shrugged. hearing that they hadn’t just kissed in that room but done other things too shattered her. she crossed her arms over her chest as he told her how she’d ruined him, how she wasn’t just a game to him. she looked away for a second. "i don’t know why i did that dare," she confessed, "i just don’t know why i did it. i was a total bitch," she nodded. "i wanted to make you jealous, i wanted you to look at me, and it backfired." she sighed. "i’m an asshole," zara whispered. she was drunk, heartbroken, jealous—feeling every single emotion at once. "i don’t want to share you with anyone else," she finally said, "i want to go out with you, not just sneak around your office. i want to be out there with you, have people hate me for being with you," she added, her tone harsh, not really controlling how the words left her mouth. "and i don’t want to fucking see you kiss jess ever again."

grayson-gutierrez

Grayson stared at her like he was trying to breathe through fire, jaw tight, fists flexing at his sides like he was holding himself back from breaking something—or maybe just breaking down. His voice, when it came, wasn’t loud. It was sharp. Real. He ran a hand through his hair, pacing once before stopping in front of her, chest rising and falling. “Yeah, I fucked up. I won’t sugarcoat that. But don’t stand feign all innocence. You think it didn’t kill me seeing you with him?” He pointed at her, his voice rough with restraint. “You say there’s a difference? Cool. Tell that to the version of me who watched you dance on top of him from across the room and had to just sit there." He let the words hang, the air charged and raw. “You wanted to make me jealous? Congratulations. It worked.” He let out a short, humorless laugh. “You got what you wanted. But don’t pretend like I didn’t break a little seeing it. I didn’t just go into that room with Jess because I wanted to. I did it because I didn’t know how to not feel like shit anymore.” He looked at her bleeding knees, the dirt on her, the anger in her voice, the cracks in her eyes. He exhaled, a sound filled with too many emotions to name. “You think I don’t know how Jess looks at me? You think I give a shit?” he said, voice lower now. “She could stare at me all night and it still wouldn’t matter, because she’s not you. She said it herself. And yeah, we didn’t just kiss. You want honesty? There it is. We didn't go all the way in there either though." When she whispered I’m an asshole, his expression cracked. Not out of pity—just something deeper. Something real. “You’re not,” he said quietly. “You’re just scared. Same as me.” And then she said it—the part that mattered most. He took a step forward, slow, careful. "I never asked you to be my secret, Zara." Then she hit him with the final blow. He didn’t flinch. He just nodded, jaw clenched, voice steady. “You won’t, Jess is history.” And he meant it. Every damn word. Then, without another word, he slowly lowered himself to his knees in front of her, the gravel biting into his jeans. His hands moved with practiced ease, pulling a wipe and a small plaster from his jacket pocket like it was second nature. He gently took her leg, his touch careful, not asking for permission but giving her every chance to pull away. She didn’t. He dabbed at the scrape on her knee with the wipe, slow and precise, like she was something fragile, even if she hated being seen that way. Once the blood was cleaned, he peeled the plaster and pressed it onto her skin. His thumb lingered for a moment, smoothing over the edges—not because he had to, but because he couldn’t help it. A quiet gesture. One of care. One of choice. “I like you, Zara,” he said softly, thumb still resting over the plaster. Then his eyes lifted to hers, tired but clear. “More than like you, dammit.” He stayed there a second longer, on his knees, looking up at her like he was done pretending this wasn’t something real. His breath left slow, unsteady, but his voice was sure. “Just say you want me and I’ll say it right back,” she told him. He looked up at her, and for once, there was no wall, no ego, no shield. Just him. “I’m done pretending. I’m done hiding."

she didn't know what she was thinking—in fact, she wasn’t thinking at all. she stormed toward the door she had last seen grayson disappear behind with jess, her fist slamming against the wood hard enough to sting. seeing him walk into that room with someone who wasn’t her, for god knows what, made something inside her snap. she wanted to hit them both. she couldn’t understand how he had just agreed to that dare—it wasn’t some dumb lap dance, it was seven minutes in heaven, and everyone knew what that usually meant. and for some reason, after moving in with him, she’d convinced herself that kind of intimacy was just theirs. it wasn’t just about the flirting or the soft moments, it was about the nights where she got to trace every inch of him like it meant something. and now, her heart was breaking—over a stupid game—and everyone had seen it. she’d left the party as quickly as people had gathered for the game, but that didn’t stop the weight of it all from crashing down on her. zara collapsed to the cold ground, her knees scraped raw, the chill biting at her exposed skin, her whole body tight with fury and heartbreak. she heard footsteps. then his voice—low, rough, like he’d been kissing her long enough to be out of breath—and something in her twisted. she didn’t want to hear him, didn’t want to see him, and definitely didn’t want him to pretend like he cared. she looked up and saw the signs all over him: his shirt half-unbuttoned, the rest clinging by a thread, lips swollen, the fly of his pants halfway down. "i'm fucking fine," she spat, staggering to her feet. "go fuck that bitch jess, she's waiting for you." her eyes locked on his. "she did a good job—look at you." she shook her head, fury bubbling past the heartbreak. "you’ve still got five more minutes in there, so go. remind her why she’s been chasing your ass for months." her voice dripped venom, every word edged in pain.

grayson-gutierrez

Grayson hadn’t expected to see her like that. The second he stepped out of the room, still pulling his shirt together, heart pounding for all the wrong reasons, he froze and went outside. He wanted to call her name, but before he could get a word out, she was already up on her feet, eyes blazing. The words hit harder than any punch. He didn’t even flinch—he just stood there, watching the heartbreak twist her face, wishing he could erase the last twenty minutes of the night. His brows drew together, frustration and regret colliding in the tightness of his chest. His voice came out low, a little hoarse.“Zara… come on.” He took a slow step forward, careful, like getting too close might make it worse. “You really think I wanted to go in there with her?" His hand hovered at his side, clenched and unsure. “You were dancing on someone else like I wasn’t even in the room. Like everything between us was just some… joke. I know it was a game, but god, Zara, it didn’t feel like a game.” He looked at her, really looked, and it hurt. The sting in her eyes, the shake in her voice—it wrecked him. “I lost it. I didn’t know what to do. So I did something stupid.” He ran a hand down his face, trying to collect himself, his voice softening. “But I didn’t kiss and do whatever because I wanted too. I did it to make you jealous." He finally looked her in the eyes, quiet but steady. “You’ve got every right to be pissed. I get it. But don’t think for a second I care about Jess. That was nothing. She knows it too. She saw how I was looking at you from across the room. Yeah, we did the dare, like everybody else in that room is doing. Like you did too. Yes, we kissed and did other stuff in the closet because the game's the game." His voice dropped, gentler now—honest, even if it made him ache. “You’re not just some game to me though, Zara. You never were. You don’t get it… You ruin me." Grayson’s heart thudded in his chest. “And seeing you do that,” he said, voice rough and low, the frustration and hurt bleeding through, “dance on some guy like that… see his hands on you—it fucked me up.” He swallowed hard, the words catching in his throat like they were heavier than anything he’d ever said. “I didn’t know how else to deal with it so I got revenge. I'm a dick - I know."

for zara that was only a dare, she didn’t think too much into it. she danced, getting high on the people cheering. she wasn’t looking at the guy, she didn’t care about him, he was just part of a dare. she grinded and danced, there wasn’t anything sexual coming from her, she was just dancing. as she got up after her little show, she smiled, proudly soaking in the others’ cheers. but as she turned to look at him, he didn’t look as chill as she was. for a second she couldn’t understand the annoyed look on his face. she kept telling herself it was just a dare. but then he read the block in his hand. she felt her breath catch in her throat. she couldn’t breathe. the crowd that had been cheering for her was now whistling, laughing, clapping at the new challenge. she didn’t like it. when the person meant to go in the closet with grayson said no, and grayson casually shrugged it off, zara felt a flicker of relief—maybe he’d have to drink after all and she’d still get to sit back on his lap. she knew the girl he called next. she had a thing for him. everyone knew. and grayson didn’t hesitate—he went straight for her. zara’s mouth went dry, her gaze shifting from the girl to grayson. the way she got up so fast, so ready, like she was proud of something that was never meant to happen, made zara want to punch a wall. the way she walked over to him, like it was hers to take. zara wanted to grab the girl's hair and drag her away from her man... but he wasn’t. he didn’t even glance at her as he walked toward the closet with jess. zara swallowed and walked back to where grayson had been sitting, her eyes stuck on the spot they had disappeared into. around her, the party carried on—voices, laughter, whispers—all of it felt like knives. she couldn’t take it anymore. after what felt like forever but was really just a minute, she shot up, her body moving on instinct. she shoved through the circle of people, ignoring their stares. her heels clacked against the floor, sharp and angry, until she reached the door and slammed her fist against it, hard. "i hope you have a good time, fucking asshole!" she shouted, knocking on the door even harder thant he first time, feeling the side of her hand burning because of her action. the room falling into a stunned silence. "what the fuck are you looking at?" she snapped at the others, her voice cracking, her rage spilling out in front of everyone. she didn’t care. she turned and stormed out of the frat house, eyes blurred with tears she refused to let fall. she felt like absolute shit. she didn’t even know exactly what she’d done wrong—but she knew grayson had done something. her heel caught the edge of the pavement and she tripped, landing hard on her scratched knees and palms. she stayed there for a second, frozen, breathing hard. she wanted to cry, to scream, to tear everything apart—but she wouldn’t. she couldn’t. she had already let them see too much, more than they ever should have. and it was all because of grayson, who, as far as she was concerned, had decided to ruin her night.

grayson-gutierrez

Click. The door shut. The lock turned. And the closet swallowed them. For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Thick, suspended air. The scent of old wood, dust, perfume — her — and the barely-there sound of his breathing. Jessica pressed back against the wall, her pulse hammering in her throat. Grayson hadn't moved. Not yet. She could feel him. Right there in front of her. Close enough that her skin started to burn even without contact. Then—He moved. A hand slammed to the wall just beside her head — not a threat, a claim. The next second, his body was on hers, hot and solid, pressing her into the wall like he couldn't stand another second without contact. His mouth came down hard, no prelude — teeth and tongue and heat. Jessica whimpered into it, shocked at how fast it all happened. How deep the need went. His hands were already at her waist, dragging her into him. There was no slow discovery, no gentle testing. He was pulling her shirt up like it offended him, baring skin in frantic, rough movements. Her arms lifted, surrendering. Her crush — the one she’d nursed for a year in silence — had exploded into something raw and physical and terrifyingly real. She let herself melt into it. Pressed her hips up against him and felt the grunt tear from his throat when she did. His mouth left hers, dragging down her neck, tongue warm, teeth grazing — then lower. Her breath caught as his hand cupped her breast, thumb stroking over the lace, then slipping underneath. She arched for him. When his mouth closed around her nipple, hot tongue circling, the moan that broke from her lips was shameless. It wasn't Jessica's rack in his mind. Her hands tangled in his hair, anchoring herself as his mouth worked over her skin, his breath growing faster, heavier. His hands slid down, dragging over her hips, down between the curve of her thighs. Jessica's back hit the wall again — harder this time — as he drove his body against hers, his mouth back at her throat, kissing harder now, more desperately. She panted into the dark, hands clawing at his shirt, yanking at the hem, trying to get closer, feel more, breathe less. A couple of buttons of his shirt got lost in the process. She didn’t know where his hands were now — on her waist, sliding between her legs, and teasing because he couldn't get who he wanted. Her fingers brushed his chest first — tentative, then surer. She felt him breathe in, sharp and surprised. Her hands slid down over his shirt, dragging fabric, knuckles grazing the taut lines of his stomach. Still, he didn’t stop her. She went lower. She felt the heat of him through the fabric, and it made her bite her lip. She undid the button, then the zipper, and slid her hand inside. Grayson cursed under his breath, his body jerking at the contact. Jessica’s fingers wrapped around him — firm, slow — and began to stroke. The movement was careful at first, deliberate, drawing him out inch by inch into the dark. He was hot in her hand, impossibly hard, twitching at every motion. The closet felt like it was shrinking — filled with the sound of skin on skin, of strained breathing, of tension rising to a breaking point. And then—

KNOCK. Loud. Abrupt. Cruel. Grayson froze. Not because of what Zara said. But because of how she said it. She was hurt. Not angry — not really. Her voice cracked like something had broken, and suddenly the party outside felt like a circus gone wrong. He heard the silence ripple through the room. Then the door trembled again as her fist struck harder. The second knock burned hotter than the first. Grayson didn’t speak. Just exhaled slowly, teeth clenched. Jessica stilled under his hands. Her breath hitched, no longer from pleasure. He stepped back. Not because he regretted it — but because the air had shifted. What came next would linger. Outside, Zara’s footsteps pounded across the floor like war drums. Then the front door slammed. Muffled laughter trickled back in, hesitant, like people weren’t sure whether to pretend nothing happened or admit they’d just witnessed something brutal and real. He stayed in the closet for a few seconds longer. Not thinking. Just burning. In the silence left behind, with Jessica straightening her clothes, Grayson finally looked toward the door. His expression unreadable. But his night? Ruined. And it wasn’t because of what happened in the closet. It was because of everything that happened before. The door clicked open. Grayson stepped out into silence. Not just the kind where the music’s low. The kind where everyone is waiting. Watching. Pretending not to. The room was frozen — mid-laugh, mid-drink, mid-breath — eyes darting toward him and Jessica as they emerged. He felt the eyes land on his lips — red, swollen from kissing — and his shirt, half-untucked and missing at least three buttons, his zipper not all the way up. Someone made a sound — low, half-laughing — and that was enough to set the whole room buzzing again, whispers igniting like sparks across kindling. Grayson ran a hand through his hair. Jaw tight. His body still throbbed with unsatisfied heat, tension curled tight in his spine and groin. Angry. Frustrated. Horny. And just drunk enough to not care that the whole room was dissecting the way his pants sat low on his hips. He fixed his zipper first. Then ran his palm down his chest, trying to flatten out the shirt — but the missing buttons left it gaping.

Grayson stepped outside, the cold hitting him like a slap. He hadn’t planned on following her. Hell, a minute ago, he’d still had Jessica’s fingers on his skin and her breath in his ear — but now, all that heat had cooled into something ugly. Regret settled low in his stomach, sharp and sour. His boots hit the pavement hard as he descended the porch steps. The night was quieter out here, the thud of the bass behind him muffled. And then he saw her. Zara, near the curb, crouched on the ground. Her knees were scraped raw — blood streaking her knees, dark against skin. Grayson ran a hand down his face. Frustration made his movements jerky. His pants still hung too low, his shirt open and wrinkled, breeze slicing over his skin — the kind of chill that would sober anyone if the shame hadn’t already done the job. He crossed the space between them slowly. One step. Then another. He stopped a few feet behind her. "Zara." He let the silence hang for a beat. Then another. "You’re bleeding," he said, voice hoarse — rough from kissing, yelling, biting back things he shouldn’t have said. "And you’re gonna catch a cold going out here like this." Grayson blinked. Looked down at himself like he hadn’t even realised — shirt still hanging open, cold air licking across his chest, half a button clinging to the middle like it had survived the war. His hands were still shaking faintly, from the cold or from her — he wasn’t sure.

zara had never considered herself shy—she liked people, and she knew exactly what to do to get their attention. partying was her favorite thing, and she was good at it, good at connecting with people. "i’m a menace? a pretty sexy menace," she corrected with a grin, taking another sip of her drink. there were a lot of people at the party, but if she was honest, her focus was entirely on grayson—he had no competition. she was deliberately flirting with him, just like she did when they were alone at home or when she stopped by his office. "as they should," she added, glancing down at her bikini, wearing it proudly without a second thought—it was a hawaiian party after all. she was in her element, and she was making sure grayson noticed—undoing his shirt, teasing him, practically glued to him with all her attention. as she slid into his lap, her eyes lingered on his lips, and for a second, she almost forgot about where they were. it took a surprising amount of control not to kiss him right there. "what can i say, i’m a superhero," she laughed, flipping her hair in a dramatic toss, cheeks flushed but playful. she stood up again, catching the attention of the room effortlessly. everyone was ready for a game—no one was going to say no to getting drunk with dares on the table, especially when zara was the one suggesting it. as she looked back at grayson with that smirk of hers, she grinned. "i think i should be president," she mused, clearly riding the high of the moment. "people would follow me no matter what." and drunk zara truly believed that. when grayson said he was in, her smile widened—she hadn’t expected him to play along, but she was thrilled he did. "well…" she said as she gave him a gentle push back onto the couch, "i don’t know where you’re sitting, but i know i’m sitting on you." and with that, she plopped herself on his lap, legs crossed, her side pressed against his chest, her arm loosely wrapped around his neck. "i feel really comfortable," she whispered into his ear, clearly having the time of her life. around them, people settled into seats, and the tower of jenga at the center became the main event, each block covered in dares. people laughed, kissed, did body shots, stripped down—wild but typical frat house chaos. zara just laughed from grayson’s lap, living for the fun. then it was her turn. leaning forward, careful not to knock the tower over, she pulled out a block. "c’mon zara, read it out loud!" someone shouted, and the room cheered. "give the person in front of you a lap dance," she read, eyebrows raised as the crowd erupted in cheers. the guy across from her grinned, beckoning her with a finger. zara looked back at grayson for a second before standing up and walking over. "i’ll need some music," she said loudly, adjusting the strings of her bikini with a wicked grin. with the beat kicking in, she placed her hands on the guy’s shoulders, swaying her hips in perfect rhythm. the crowd went wild as she dipped low, every move exaggerated and playful—more of a performance than a flirtation. she twirled, gave one last shimmy, then confidently strutted away as the room applauded. it was bold, wild, and exactly what everyone expected from a night like this. but the moment his hands landed on her hips, she straightened up, stepping away without missing a beat. "hands off, don’t get too excited," she muttered with a smirk.

grayson-gutierrez

The second she read the dare out loud though, something shifted. Grayson’s smile didn’t drop right away—he even raised his eyebrows in mock scandal as the crowd hollered. But as Zara stood and walked across the circle, something heavy started to knot in his stomach. He kept his expression neutral, even smirked a little, but he wasn’t really in it anymore. She danced like she didn’t care who was watching—except he was. She reached the guy in front of her—he was already grinning like he’d just won something—and without hesitation, she swung a leg over his lap. The man leaned back, arms spread across the couch, looking up at her like she was a goddamn miracle. And Zara gave him a show. She started slow. Hips rocking forward, then back, her ass grazing just above his thighs. The guy’s mouth parted slightly as she dropped lower, grinding down with calculated grace, her back arched. Grayson watched, his jaw clenched so tight it hurt. Every shift of her ass, every roll of her hips, every time she dipped lower—the guy beneath her was drinking it in with shameless awe. No restraint. No embarrassment. Just hunger in his face. His eyes followed every curve like he was tracing her with his gaze, and he didn't even try to hide it. Zara’s hands rested on the guy’s chest now, fingertips dragging lightly over his shirt. The guy’s hands twitched on his thighs, dying to touch. Grayson’s fists clenched in his lap. He was trying not to look, trying to look only at her—but the way the other man stared, unbothered and bold, made it worse. . She gave one final shimmy, ass circling slow and deliberate, before sliding back up to standing. The guy reached, just barely—fingertips brushing her hips. And then Zara turned her head, not even glancing down at him. The guy chuckled, but it was thin now. Embarrassed. She’d already turned her back. And as she walked away—hips still moving to the beat, a grin playing on her lips—Grayson couldn’t stop watching. Couldn’t stop remembering the way she’d looked back at him first, right before choosing to go. The room was still buzzing when Grayson reached for the Jenga tower. His fingers hovered for a second longer than necessary. The block he chose slid out smoothly, but not without a faint creak that made a few people hush in anticipation. He didn’t look up—yet. His jaw was tight. The memory of Zara’s hips still burned behind his eyes. The way her ass had moved, slow and deliberate, in another man’s lap… and the way that man had looked at her—like he was ready to take her right there.

Grayson bit the inside of his cheek, hard. He turned the block over in his hand, reading the words before saying them aloud. "Seven minutes in heaven… with the person across the room from you." A beat of silence. Then whistles. Laughter. Someone clapped. He raised an eyebrow, one corner of his mouth twitching into a half-smile, first to the guy still lounging across the room, the one she’d danced on. The guy shook his head immediately, eyes wide with mock alarm. “Nah, man. I’m good.” There was more laughter—some teasing, some knowing. Grayson tilted his head at him, a dry smirk forming on his lips. “Weird,” he said casually, voice smooth but flat. “Didn’t seem so shy a minute ago.” He didn’t wait for a response. He turned slightly, scanning, then pointed at the girl seated next to the guy. "Jess," he said. “You’re up.” Jessica straightened instantly, her eyes widening—then narrowing in focus. She looked like she’d just won something and was trying not to show it too fast. Her hands smoothed the hem of her mini skirt as she stood. She’d been waiting for this. Jessica had visited his office three times this month alone under vague pretenses. A file that needed reviewing. An account that needed “clarity.” Once, she dropped by just to “see if he wanted a hot chocolate to keep him going.” Her crush wasn’t exactly subtle—and Grayson had never bothered to shut it down. She was pretty cute, ambitious, always a little too eager to please. And now, she walked toward him like she’d rehearsed it. The room hollered as Grayson stood up. He didn’t glance at Zara, though he felt her eyes on him like nails in his spine. Someone opened the door to the coat closet-turned-makeshift-"heaven" and flipped on the dim overhead light. Grayson stepped inside behind Jess and shut the door behind them. The moment it clicked shut, the noise outside muffled—just the beat of the music bleeding through, distant now. Jessica leaned back against the wall, arms crossed loosely under her chest. “So…” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, “seven whole minutes.” Grayson didn’t answer right away. He wasn’t looking at her. He was still seeing Zara—bent over, grinding, hips rolling slow in someone else's lap. He let the silence stretch as he stepped closer to Jessica, until there was barely a breath of space between them. “I saw the way you looked at Zara,” Jessica said softly, eyes flicking to his. “You want her.” Grayson’s lips curled slightly, but it wasn’t a smile. “No,” he said. “I want her to want me.” And then his hand reached out, brushing lightly against Jessica’s jaw, tilting her head just a little. “But right now…” he murmured, eyes narrowing, “you’ll do.”

she had always been told that her warmth and playful nature made people want to be around her—zara was the kind of person who filled up a room without even trying. bright, fun, kind to everyone. but something about grayson pulled at her in a different way. it wasn’t just the way he looked—it was how he looked at her, like she was the only one there. the way he made her laugh at the dumbest things, how easy it felt being around him. she was happy, really happy, that their connection ran deeper than a passing crush. she raised her hand in a dramatic little salute, fingers tapping her forehead. “thanks for your service, mr. gutierrez,” she joked, her voice laced with playfulness. when he said the place looked better with her in it, she had to look away, cheeks going pink despite herself. “you’re such a flirt,” she said, a little smile tugging at the corner of her lips. and yeah, she was flirting back. she knew exactly what she was doing—trying to make him forget about the noise of the party, to have him focused on just her. judging by the way his eyes stayed on her, it was working. “that’s the saying, but if my boobs look this good in this bikini, you deserve to take a look, don’t you?” she teased, striking a mock-model pose for a few seconds before cracking up at herself, laughter bubbling out of her. her fingers moved to his shirt, undoing it with no hesitation, her teeth catching her bottom lip as she looked him over. “much better,” she grinned, clearly satisfied with her handiwork. “people deserve to see you,” she added with a nod, like it was simply a matter of fairness. when he tapped his thigh, she didn’t even hesitate. she slid onto his lap like it was the most natural thing in the world. “of course i’m joining the drinking games,” she said, “someone’s gotta keep the party alive. that’s my hero arc.” she nodded firmly, playing into her usual over-the-top confidence. “oh, everyone in here knows i’m hot,” she added, standing back up with a wink. “just watch.” then she turned to the crowd, raising her voice with the perfect amount of dramatic flair, “did someone say dare-jenga?” cheers erupted. people started gathering immediately, migrating toward the spot where she and grayson had been sitting, the energy shifting in a flash. she turned back to him, smug and glowing. “see?” she said, flashing a proud little grin. “told you.”

grayson-gutierrez

Grayson couldn’t stop looking at her—Zara had that effect on people, but with him, it hit different. She laughed easy, moved through a crowd like she owned it, made strangers feel like old friends. But what got Grayson wasn’t all that surface-level charm. She’d always been magnetic to him , but now—sitting across from him in that tiny bikini, laughing at her own joke, cheeks flushed, she looked perfect. “You’re a menace,” he muttered, fighting a grin. And when she had to look away after he told her the place looked better with her in it—when that smile crept across her lips and she called him a flirt—he knew she felt it too. This wasn’t just banter. This wasn’t just the usual party spark. She was flirting, yeah, but it wasn’t careless. It was deliberate. It was for him. Grayson damn near choked on his drink. He laughed, hands held up in surrender. “Well, I mean, who am I to argue with the logic? I do think that everybody here is appreciating them." She struck a pose, barely holding it before breaking into laughter, and that laugh—God, that laugh. It was stupid how much he loved it. Then her fingers were on his shirt, undoing it like she’d done it a thousand times, like she belonged there. Her teeth grazed her bottom lip, her eyes dragging over him, clearly not shy about any of it. When he tapped his thigh, she slid into his lap without hesitation—like that was just where she was supposed to be. She fit there like she’d always known she would. “Saving the party, one shot at a time,” Grayson said, smirking as he wrapped his arm around her waist. Then she stood, full of confidence and chaos, that wink hitting harder than it should’ve. And when she turned to the crowd, raised her voice and yelled “Did someone say dare-Jenga?”—the reaction was immediate. Cheers, movement, energy rippling through the room like electricity. Grayson leaned back, watching it all unfold—the crowd moving toward them, the buzz building around her. He looked at her like she was the sun and the flame and the fuel that kept everything burning. “Yeah,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief, a smile tugging at his lips. “You really did.” Grayson’s smile faltered for half a second as he caught movement in his periphery—two guys across the room, nudging each other, eyes locked on Zara like she was something to consume instead of someone to admire. The kind of look that went on too long, lingered a little too low, made his jaw tighten without him even realising it. She hadn’t noticed them. But he had. The guy in the backwards hat tilted his beer bottle and said something to his friend with a smirk, clearly about her, and Grayson’s fingers twitched at his side. He moved instinctively. “I’m in,” he called out over the music and chatter, that easy smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Where am I sitting?”

if there was something zara loved, it was parties. she couldn’t help it—meeting new people, dressing up, or in this case, practically undressing to have fun with others. cheap alcohol, questionable music, silly drinking games? she thrived in that kind of chaos. "oh, so you saved the day?" she asked, tilting her head slightly, fingers twirling a strand of her long, wavy hair as her gaze locked onto his. at his comment about the place looking better with her in it, a slow, knowing smile spread across her lips. she loved when he said things like that. "oh, so you like it then?" she smirked, watching him take a sip of his drink. she didn’t miss the way his eyes lingered on her—just a little too long, just a little too obvious. "my eyes are down here, grayson," she teased, biting her lip as she took a step closer. normally, she might’ve called someone out for staring. but this was grayson—and around him, she was the most flirtatious version of herself. "so... " she murmured, her free hand casually moving to undo the last few buttons of his half-buttoned-up hawaiian shirt. her fingers grazed his skin, her touch featherlight as she smirked up at him. "i think it would be a pity for people not to see those abs," she mused, head tilting slightly as she met his gaze, eyes glinting with mischief.

grayson-gutierrez

Grayson felt the warmth of Zara's gaze on him as she tilted her head, her fingers twirling a strand of her long, wavy hair in that effortlessly captivating way of hers. Her playful energy was impossible to ignore, and the way she carried herself, so comfortable in the chaos of the party, made him smile. She was always full of life, and it made everything feel a little more exciting. When she asked if he had "saved the day," he couldn't help but grin, the hint of a laugh in his voice. "Yeah," he said, his eyes sparkling with the same easy confidence she wore so well, "I did save the day this time." He paused, enjoying the way her smile spread across her face at the mention of her effect on the place. "It definitely looks better with you here," he added, and he meant it. It was always like that when she was around—she had a way of making everything brighter. Zara's teasing smile and the way she moved a little closer didn't escape him. There was something in the way she teased him that always made his heart race just a bit faster. When she made her playful remark, he couldn’t resist a soft chuckle, the moment feeling both lighthearted and charged. She didn’t miss the way his gaze lingered, and though her words called him out, there was a spark of something deeper in the playful tension. "You know I can’t help it," he said with a soft smile, his voice a little lower, full of quiet admiration. "Isn't the saying my eyes are up here though?" Then, when she reached out to undo the last few buttons of his shirt, her touch so light, it sent a warmth through him that he couldn’t ignore. He didn’t pull away—in fact, he found himself leaning into it, drawn to her in that effortlessly magnetic way she had. Her mischievous smile only deepened the connection between them, and he couldn’t help but let out a quiet, amused breath. “You’re probably right,” Grayson murmured, his gaze soft but steady, meeting hers with a mixture of playfulness and something more. "It would be a shame not to let people see what I have going on underneath here." Grayson tapped his thigh for Zara to take a seat on if she wanted too. His voice, full of playful flirtation, was barely above a whisper. "You’re not just here for the party, are you?" he asked, his eyes locking onto hers. "You planning on joining in on those drinking games?" He raised an eyebrow, the glint of amusement in his eyes matching the teasing smile that played on his lips. "Because if you do," he added with a sly grin, "I have a feeling you’re going to be the one to keep things interesting. I know all the guys here think you are hot."

zara took a sip of her drink, her eyes drifting to grayson across the room. the party looked pretty nice, maybe university wasn’t fun, but fraternity parties definitely made it better. this time, people had totally forgotten how cold it was outside, dressing like they were in hawaii. zara was wearing a flower bikini top and a cute matching skirt, heart-shaped glasses sitting on top of her hair. she took another sip of her drink before walking over to him. "it's hard to believe it's cold outside, isn't it?" she smirked. "they should do this more—gives me an excuse to buy more bikinis if i get to wear them all year," she joked. "you look great, by the way. why'd you rush to get here? i thought we were coming together." @grayson-gutierrez

grayson-gutierrez

Grayson glanced up at Zara as she approached, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He took a moment to appreciate her outfit, her flower bikini top and skirt a perfect match for the tropical theme. His own half-buttoned Hawaiian floral shirt made him feel like he was still on a beach somewhere, despite the cold chill outside. He'd worked hard setting up, making sure everything was just right for the party, so seeing everyone starting to enjoy it now felt like a small victory. At her compliment, he grinned, trying not to let the warmth on his cheeks show. "Thanks. And, uh, I got caught up with last-minute stuff—setting everything up, you know how it goes. Didn't want the party to fall apart just before everyone showed up." He shrugged, his tone light and easy. "But hey, I'm glad you made it. This place looks way better with you here." Grayson took a casual sip from his drink, his eyes glinting with amusement. "As for bikinis ... yours is definitely eye-catching to say the least."

Gray Gutierrez @grayson-gutierrez - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag