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“Like I’d want to join in,” I say, wrinkling my nose as I try to feign disgust.
“Heard you heavy breathing the whole time, Fuck-up, like you were getting off on listening to Ace fuck me. You remember how big his cock is? How good he is with his hands?”
I squirm in my chair. Dammit. I touched myself the entire time they were fucking, and I came just after Romeo did, but I had no idea they could hear me. My cheeks burn and Romeo laughs. “You did not hear me,” I protest.
“Nope.” He shakes his head. “I was just messing with ya, but now I know.” He winks, and I curse my own stupidity at letting him play me so easily.
“So?” I shrug, refusing to let him shame me. “Two hot guys fucking turns me on. Sue me.”
Romeo nudges Ace’s arm. “She thinks we’re hot.”
Lifting his head, Ace grabs Romeo’s jaw and gives him a quick kiss. “You are fucking hot.” He goes back to his phone.
I take my own phone out of my pocket and pull up a news article I was reading. Staring at the screen, I pretend to read, but all I can think about is that kiss and the two of them last night. As hot as it was to hear them together, what happened after is what plays on my mind now. Their intimacy. How Ace checked in with Romeo, and how they each said I love you. A strange swell of jealousy, longing, and regret balls itself into a knot inside my chest, and I feel heavier than I did a few minutes ago when we were eating donuts and drinking coffee.
The sound of Ace putting his phone down on the table snaps me from my thoughts, and when I look up again, he’s staring at me. “Lorenzo wants me to see and talk to Mia again today, to make sure she’s still safe.”
I swallow and nod. “Of course.” Glancing at my phone, I note that it’s not even 9:00 a.m. yet. “But Phoenix won’t get out of bed before eleven. I’ll call her later.”
Ace eyes me suspiciously, like he thinks I have some ulterior motive for not letting him speak to Mia right now. I don’t. “She won’t answer the call,” I repeat.
He grunts before pushing his chair back, then starts packing up his belongings. “We’re leaving in ten.”
Chapter
Twenty-Four
KERES
Nathan James’s office building is fancy as hell. I twirl around like a ballerina in a music box as we walk through the lobby full of marble and glass and shiny metal, trying to take in every detail. “This guy owns the whole building?”
“His family does.” Ace shoots me a look that tells me he’s annoyed by my curiosity, but I’ve never seen a building like this. Never been to New York City before. I’ve seen wealth, and I’ve resented the hell out of it. Fancy houses with pools and half a dozen cars in the driveway. But this is next-level, control-the-world kind of affluence.
I stop spinning and focus on the bank of gold elevators. “What kind of family is he from that they own a building like this?”
Ace pushes the button to call the elevator, then crosses his arms over his chest as he glares at the numbers above the doors. “The billionaire kind.”
“He makes his billions being a lawyer?”
Ace doesn’t take his eyes off the numbers flashing above the elevator. “His family has billions, but he doesn’t exactly work for his family. He set up his own law firm with his younger brother, and they own several buildings like this across the country.”
I shake my head. That kind of fortune being concentrated within one family is obscene, but one thing I do know is that money talks, and Nathan James clearly has it by the bucketload.
We step off the elevator into a reception area, and a stern-looking woman with jet-black hair and catlike features greets us.
“We have a meeting with Mr. James,” Ace says.
She glances down at her desk. “I don’t have you on the schedule.”
A deep, authoritative voice booms from behind us. “It was last minute, Joan.”
I turn around to see a tall man in a finely tailored suit striding down the corridor. He rubs a hand over his clean-shaven, incredibly defined jawline. “I forgot to tell you.”
When I glance back at Joan, she purses her lips and shakes her head. “How am I supposed to manage the desk if you don’t keep me in the loop, Mr. James?” she asks, her voice taking on a softer tone.
His only response is a glare before he gives us his full attention. “Lorenzo told me you were coming. Follow me.” His expression is inscrutable now and it unnerves me. I hate being around people, especially men, that I can’t get a read on. And this lawyer, with his movie-star looks and a voice that would make even the most belligerent teenager sit up and pay attention, is as unreadable as they come.
He strides down the hallway, and we obediently follow. Neither Ace nor Romeo seems perturbed by this meeting we’re about to have, and Lorenzo wouldn’t have sent us here for nothing. Nathan isn’t the enemy. Maybe some billionaires are good people. I suppress a snort. Yeah, right.
