“You might? Will you insist on wrestling again?”
“Maybe. But I’ll let you win.”
His laughter vibrated through my bones.
That night, I slept like a log. I didn’t wake up until the alarm shrieked at eight. We had a full day of filming in front of us and a major event planned with Paris, but Lothair didn’t even let me look at the phone. He turned the alarm off and dove under the covers. His warm mouthenveloped my dick, and for the next five minutes, I didn’t think about anything but my mate’s talented tongue.
I’d haveto get used to this. Lothair, with Paris on his arm, all dressed up, looked like royalty. I walked behind them, with Paris’s monster of a bodyguard by my side, who was ignoring me entirely as was his usual MO. Kim trailed us through the corridor and onto the red carpet, a hands-free set in his ear.
The event’s own security personnel handled the crowd management around the red carpet, so I only observed.
“Move on,” Kim said into the headset. I touched Lothair’s back lightly to get him to hurry up.
He and Paris chuckled at something a reporter said, then they excused themselves and continued down the grand gallery atrium.
The news about Paris and Lothair’s involvement had spread like wildfire despite Paris’s insistent denial they were dating. Tonight’s event would only fuel the speculation, but that was what they wanted.
The gala attendees looked like a flock of peacocks and flamingos, with the occasional penguin thrown in. I didn’t get the point of it, really. People dressed up in the most expensive and outrageous outfits they could find, pictures were taken, then they floated around with champagne glasses in their hands, not eating anything of the opulent spreads on the tall tables because a millimeter extra around the waist would make it impossible to zip their gowns up. Half of them looked bored out of their minds, and the other half gave off a nervous energy worthy of Olympic trials.
As I watched the spectacle, my respect for Paris Olivier grew tenfold. Not only was he the single most beautifulbeing in the room, but he ruled over the rest of them with natural grace and ease. In his pearly white suit and embroidered top, he seemed to emit light. Lothair stayed by his side for a large part of the evening, but none of their interactions suggested anything more than friendship. Even so, all eyes were on them.
To my relief, I wasn’t jealous. By now, I knew exactly how much Lothair loved me. Instead, the idea of having someone like Paris in bed between us occupied my mind.
A beautiful omega, frail and soft, open for us both. Lothair’s cock against mine in a slick, warm hole, his cum mixing with mine…
I remembered Zach with a pang of regret. That night had been incredible, but I’d been too freaked out to enjoy it. If I got another chance like that, I’d savor every second.
Lothair leaned closer to whisper something into Paris’s ear, and I tried to imagine them kissing in front of me.
Huh. I couldn’t really see it. Not Paris. He was too much, too…godlike. Besides, as his bodyguard oversaw the space with his permanent scowl, I wondered if he was a bit more possessive of his client than his role required. The monstrous alpha looked like he’d rip the arms off anyone who merely brushed Paris’s suit jacket with a pinkie.
If we wanted to find an omega to share our bed, we would have to start from scratch.
We leftthe gala after midnight. In the back seat of the car, Lothair laid his head on my shoulder.
“Tired?”
“A little. Can I blow you?” he whispered into my ear.
The driver might have heard because he sucked in a breath, poor guy.
I chuckled. “There’s a nice, roomy shower adjacent to the bedroom.”
Lothair sighed happily. “Good.”
The driver slowed down. “Sir?” His eyes met mine in the mirror before he jerked his chin forward. “What do we do?”
I craned my neck to see what he meant.
Fuck.
There wasn’t supposed to be a crowd in front of the apartment building. Carlos said he and Paris’s team chose this location specifically to avoid being harassed by fans and paparazzi. Most A-listers were expected to stay at the posh hotels downtown, close to the venue. Paris and Lothair had rented a top-floor condo in a nice but inconspicuous high-rise six blocks away. Nobody was supposed to know they were staying here.
And yet, as we were nearing the building, I spotted the swarm of people in front of the entrance. At one in the morning? They could only be there for one reason.
“Kim, you’re seeing that?” I said into the headset. Kim and a few more of our men were in the car right behind us.
“Yes. It looks like fifty people, mostly fans with phones, but I see a few professional cameras as well.”
