Page 69 of Wicked Heat

Three million. Technically, that’s what he’s paying for this moment in front of the cameras. But the joke’s on him, I think as his fingers find my core. As his lips tease down my neck.

Three million, I think, and I stay silent and exposed. This is the trade I agreed to. The deal he proposed.

Does he really not know that I crave the way his fingers touch my clit, the way he thrusts them inside me? The way he kisses his way down to my breast so that he’s no longer blocking my view of the corners of the elevator car where I know those cameras are mounted?

I swallow, more turned on than I can ever remember being as I look at the lens across from me. As his fingers slide in and out in a rhythm that’s taking me close, but not taking me over.

Who am I?

More important, who am I with Ash? And is that who I want to be?

The answer comes fast, and I cry out his name, begging him to take me over, too turned on to care who might be watching, or who Ash might have to bribe to destroy whatever is caught on those cameras.

I want this. I want him. This man who erases my fears. Who will bury my nightmares. Who will pay a fortune to keep me safe.

And who plays my body like a finely tuned instrument.

He pulls away from my breast, then rises to take my mouth in a kiss that is long and deep and claiming. If there was any doubt in my mind that I’d become his property sometime during this trip, it’s fully erased now.

I need the three million.

I want Ashton Stone.

And the real horror is that once the money is transferred, I won’t be his any longer.

As the elevator slowed, Ash stepped back, letting the material fall against those slim thighs as Bree adjusted her top, her eyes not quite meeting his and her cheeks flushed pink.

He wanted to pull her close and kiss her hard, but he knew from experience that Mina and David, the housekeeper and concierge assigned to the penthouse, would be waiting in the foyer when the doors opened, ready to take on any tasks required for one of the Stark family or their guests. Better to just stand beside her as the elevator slowed even though all he wanted to do was touch her.

His body was still on fire from the drive. He’d never been with a woman as responsive as Bree. But it wasn’t just the way she reacted to him. It was the way she trusted him. Maybe she knew that the Stark family code he’d entered for the penthouse also disabled the cameras, but he doubted it. Which meant that she’d fully submitted to him when he’d told her not to worry.

It humbled him that she trusted him with her body. With her privacy. With the intimate knowledge of what turned her on.

Most of all, she trusted him to fix whatever horror was nipping at her toes. A horror that could only be slain by a three-million-dollar payment.

He didn’t know the specifics of why she needed it, but he was certain it was some type of blackmail. Though what a woman like Bree could ever have done that was worth paying three-million dollars to hide, he really didn’t know.

He intended to find out.

“Fiftieth floor,” she noted as the elevator slowed. “I’ve never been up this high. When Nikki and Damien gave me a week here once, Aria and I stayed on the pool level. It was incredible.” She tilted her chin up as she looked at him, the corner of her mouth tugging into the tiniest of smiles.

“That must have been fun.” He remembered that weekend. He’d been in town, too, and though he usually didn’t visit the pool deck—the penthouse had its own pool—he’d learned that she and her friend had reserved a cabana for the day. “I’ve been here myself several times and I often go to the pool deck just for the company. And,” he added as his eyes skimmed over hers, “for the view. I’ve been known to meet friends there, too. Sometimes, I’ll even offer to buy them a drink. Always a disappointment when they have to decline.”

“Maybe you’ll have the chance to make the offer again.” Her eyes sparkled with humor. “Another drink. Or something else interesting. Maybe if you do, they won’t turn you down.”

The edge of heat in her voice teased his cock, and he wanted to ask what drink or activity this mystery friend might find appealing. But before he could, the elevator doors slid open, revealing the now-familiar entrance hall along with Mina and David, the staff he’d come to know over the last couple of years.

He let Bree step out first, then followed and introduced them. He gestured for Bree to continue inside while he hung back to give Mina and David their instructions—essentially to not worry about them since it was just an overnight stay. Then he sent them off, promising to ring if anything more was needed.

“Wow,” Bree said when he caught up with her on the balcony. “The view is amazing.” She was hugging herself to ward off the October chill as she looked out over the sparkling lights of Sin City.

“Lovely, isn’t it?” he said, his gaze skimming over those sharp cheekbones. Her kissable lips. Her silky hair tucked behind an ear he was tempted to caress.

And why not? He owned her, didn’t he? For now, at least, the woman he’d craved for what felt like an eternity belonged entirely to him, and he stepped behind her, ready to claim what he owned.

Gently, he urged her forward until her hands closed over the railing that topped the clear panels surrounding this level of the balcony. He was already hard, and he heard her breath stutter as he moved close, his cock straining against his jeans and pressing against the small of her back.

He put his palms on her bare shoulders, then tilted his head forward, breathing in the floral scent of her shampoo.