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He also needed to wipe that smug smile off her face and hear a scream instead. Her screams. Not the sexy little mews she gave him willingly. Tonight, he needed the raw. He needed her straining.
She laughed as he sprinted across the street, pulling her behind him to the black taxi with its light on. He didn’t even bother asking, just opened the door and pushed her inside.
The driver shot a look over his shoulder. “I don’t take drunk fares.”
“Not drunk, just want to get to our hotel. An extra fifty in it for you if you make it fast,” Simon said.
Margo hauled Simon in after her with a laugh. “Hundred if you keep your eyes straight ahead.”
The guy barked out a laugh. “Deal.”
Simon let out a surprised laugh when she straddled him. Without hesitation, he took her mouth. He tasted himself on her tongue and the heat of whatever had been brewing between them tonight. She was playful at the moment. Not the heated girl in the alley who’d jacked him off like he was a damn fourteen-year-old.
Nope, this was the young and fun Margo who didn’t come out to play v
ery often.
“Trying to give our cab driver a show?”
She wiggled on his lap. “No. Just don’t want this feeling to slip away.”
He frowned up at her. “Why would it?”
She shrugged and toyed with his hair. “I don’t know. Just being silly, I guess.”
“Are you sure that’s it?”
“Just for tonight, can we push all the bullshit away?”
Rather than answer, he tipped up his face and nipped her chin. He hadn’t really talked to her about Ian, nor did he want to right now. The anger was so close, too close, if he didn’t keep his focus solely on Margo.
She was all he’d ever need anyway.
They made out like teenagers, laughing when the cabbie had to loudly clear his throat. Simon broke away from his very distracting wife and set her on the seat beside him. “Sorry.”
“I’m jealous, boyo.” The lyrical Irish came from the guy instead of the cockney they’d grown used to in the last week.
“You should be. My wife is a gorgeous and passionate creature.”
“Simon.”
“Talking about yer wife that way is refreshing. Take it with a smile, Miss.”
Margo blushed and pushed her way out of the car with a mumbled, “Thank you.”
Simon handed over the promised hundred with another twenty. “Thanks, man.”
The driver grinned and gave him a snappy two finger salute. “Anytime.”
When Simon got out of the cab, he caught the embarrassed flush glowing off Margo’s fair skin. Before she had a chance to bring out the very proper New England version of herself, he hooked an arm around her neck and hauled her up the steps to their hotel. “Would you like a play-by-play of what I’m going to do to you in retaliation for that alleyway stunt?”
She laughed as he’d known she would. “As if that was the first time I’ve given you…” Her dark eyes went wide as she trailed off when the doorman appeared in front of them.
Simon laughed. “Good evening,” he said to the tired-looking man.
“Evening, Mr. and Mrs. Kagan.”
Simon couldn’t quite get over how formal the UK could be sometimes. He nodded to the man, then pulled Margo tighter against him and made a bee-line for the elevator. She twisted her fingers around his as they waited in the very ornate—and very empty—lobby.
