Page 57 of Handle Me

“I’m not sure you won’t jump out of the car.”

“It’s moving.”

“Yes, which makes it even more worrying,” he teased.

I glared at him and turned my attention to the streets outside, watching for clues. His fingers darted higher and retreated. We both knew Brex too well to give in to temptation in the backseat, but that didn’t mean we were any less tempted. Every inch of my body wanted his hand to move higher to the throbbing center between my thighs.

“Do you two want me to stop anywhere? Grab a bite?” Brex asked. “Some condoms?”

I nearly choked, inhaling a shocked breath at the question.

“We’ll be fine,” Anders said dryly.

“It’s no trouble,” Brex added.

I rolled my eyes and decided to ignore them. Outside, it began to drizzle. Misty rain gathered on the windows as a thick fog rolled through the streets. The moody darkness called to me, my mind returning over and over to the ideas Anders had planted in my head. Spanking and ropes and who knew what else. I wasn’t exactly a prude, but I’d never done anything like that. I’d never thought about it—until he’d made it sound too delicious to refuse. What would it be like to be restrained and at his mercy? A hard throb at my core told me I wanted to find out. I squeezed my legs together, trapping Anders’ wandering hand in the process.

“Something preoccupying you?” he asked, leaning close—too close since we weren’t alone.

“Just wondering where we’re going,” I lied. I felt like we’d been in the car forever. For all I knew, it had only been five minutes. Time seemed to slow to a standstill when satisfaction was at the other end.

“We’re here,” he told me. There was an edge to his voice that hadn’t been present at the club. Looking up, I realized what had him on edge.

Brex pulled to the private entrance of Kensington Palace and rolled down his window to speak to a guard.

No wonder Anders hadn’t told me where we were going. There was no way I would have agreed to spend the night with him at one of the Royal residences.

“Don’t worry,” Anders said as if reading my mind. “None of the family are living here at the moment.”

I sighed with relief, but anxiety still prickled through me. “What about…”

“The staff is very discreet,” Brex assured me. “And I never saw the two of you.” He parked the car but didn’t get out. “I assume you don’t need to be seen inside.”

“I’ve got it from here,” Anders said smoothly. He jumped out of the backseat and made it around the boot of the Range Rover before I’d opened my door. Anders helped me to my feet and held out a hand.

For a moment, I stared at it. There was complicated, and then there was royally complicated.

“Don’t be scared,” he murmured.

I looked up at him, surprised to see his softer side watching me. I had no idea how many sides Anderson Stone had, but I suspected I hadn’t seen them all yet. Placing my hand in his, I took a steadying breath. “I’m not.”

The rain picked up in intensity as we walked toward the door. Anderson glanced over, sweeping a disapproving look over me.

“What?” I demanded.

“You’re going to break your ankle on wet pavement, and then we’ll wind up at the hospital all night.”

Before I could remind him we’d found a way to do it at the hospital earlier, he scooped me into his arms and carried me inside.

It turned out Anders could be the picture of a gentleman.

That was, until the door shut behind us.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

ANDERS

I had Lola Bishop alone. It was exactly where I wanted her. Kicking closed the door, I carried her to the small kitchen and placed her gently on the counter. Lola licked her lip expectantly, but I paused. I took a step back to appreciate the sight in front of me. Her too-short skirt bunched at the hips, revealing her bare thighs. They were pressed into a modest line that traveled to the taunt hem of the skirt. Lola crossed her legs at the ankles, drawing attention to her toned calves and the fuck me heels she wore. She was pure modesty and raw sensuality mixed in an unholy communion.