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“Concentrate,” Archer snaps, but he winks at me. “Go on, love. Time for your big act.”
Blowing them a kiss, I climb from the car, and Eric rounds it and takes my hand. I cross the road, starting to walk on the side near the street, but with a roll of his eyes, he pushes me to the side closest to the houses and takes my hand again. For some reason, my heart takes flight at that small show of protection.
The road is fairly quiet, with Lamborghinis, Rolls Royces, and every possible car parked outside the extravagant houses—one of the main indicators of the type of neighbourhood this is. Flowers bloom in the pristine gardens, reaching for the sun shining down on us. Swallowing nervously as we turn the corner, I spot the house we are hitting. It’s got five floors of windows, and the outside is a brilliant white with perfectly styled border flowers and plants lining the small path to the steps. The black front door is a double one, with a golden handle. In other circumstances, I might have even bought it.
But now it’s a means to an end.
The door opens as another couple slips inside, and we shoot each other a grin. It’s time. Walking casually to the door, we act like we own the place, like we belong here, to get us through the door. I don’t knock, I just swing it open, knowing the etiquette. To the left is a small entry table with a welcome sign, brochures, champagne, chocolates, and cakes. I take a glass of champagne to blend in while Eric grabs the brochure, pretending to flick through it as we wander inside.
The shallow entryway leads to a grand staircase, with chandeliers dripping from the high ceilings above us. The walls are a brilliant white, expanding the space done in a luxurious décor. To the left is a living room, which is also tastefully done, and through the doors behind it is a dining room. We head to the right, wandering through a huge, brand-new kitchen. The open doors lead to a sunken two-story garden, with a patio just beyond the doors, sofas, a fire pit, and cinema screen towards the bottom. We make noncommittal noises, pretending to look at everything like the few other couples wandering around. We blend in perfectly. The men are in suits with diamonds on their fingers, and the women are either in suits or designer dresses and heels.
I find myself missing my men’s leather and joggers as we turn and head upstairs, stopping to comment on the art and wondering about square footage. I put the champagne down untouched. It almost feels real as Eric’s hand warms my back, guiding me as he whispers about how he could bend me over the stairs or how we could turn one of the bedrooms into a nursery.
For a moment, I let myself believe it, not acting as I lean into him and meet his gaze. “Kids, huh? How many?”
“As many as possible.” He grins down at me as we reach the grand landing. “All looking extra fly like you that I can cause trouble with.”
I laugh, my cheeks blushing under his gaze as he pulls me closer and takes the moment to kiss me. “Our kids,” he whispers, “would be incredible, and of course, Gage would be the grumpy uncle.” That makes me laugh.
“We can hear you, idiots,” Gage snaps in our earpieces, making us laugh harder.
“Yeah? So if we sneak away to fuck, you’ll hear us?” I purr, eyes twinkling as Eric’s darken, my hand drifting down his chest. He inhales sharply, his lips parting. The power I have over him makes me grin as I step back, blinking innocently. “Why don’t we check out the bedrooms, darling?” I purr.
“I thought you’d never ask,” he rumbles, tugging me down the corridor.
“Focus,” Archer snaps.
Grinning, we slip into the bedroom we need. I’m about to head to the window to let them in when Eric slams me against the closed door and presses his lips to mine. His hand slides under the dress and up my thigh as I moan into his mouth, gripping his shirt to tug him closer. When he pulls back, he’s got lipstick all over his mouth as he smirks down at me.
“Next time, baby.” He winks and pulls away before he calmly tugs his suit into place and offers me his hand. Swearing, I accept it and let him pull me to the window. We unlock it and wait. I know they disabled the cameras, so when they slip inside, I nod at them and hurry to the door to check that the corridor is clear, and then I slip out with Eric. We wander around, watching for people and giving them instructions on when to move.
They finally make it upstairs to the room we need when I hear Taylor.
It’s showtime.
Eric and I trade a nod. “Going for the distraction,” I murmur as we head downstairs. We want to be caught, so beyond the stairs where everyone can see, but still slightly hidden, Eric slams me into the wall and kisses me like he will die if he doesn’t. Despite the desire pounding through me, we both fight to keep our focus on the scenery around us.
It’s so hard when Eric nips my lip possessively, his hands gliding over every inch of my body. I am crazed with need for this man, despite our location.
“Oh my gosh!” a female voice exclaims behind him. We don’t break apart, even as we stiffen, knowing we’ve been caught like we want.
“Excuse me!” a man scoffs. We ignore him again, hearing more people. “I said excuse me!” He must touch Eric, because he spins.
“Yes? Problem?” Eric smirks, and I hide my face against his back like I’m embarrassed over being caught, but the truth is I’m holding back a laugh.
Someone huffs, angry and embarrassed. “You can’t do that here!”
“Maybe you can’t, but I can. After all, I can’t keep my hands off my wife. Maybe you want me to show you and your wife how to stay happy?” he taunts, starting an argument.
It works. The wife and the man yell, drawing everyone in the house, including Taylor and his security. I hide further as the guys slowly work through their side, and when we get the all clear that they are out of the window, I tap Eric, who sighs.
“Whatever, we are leaving,” he spits out, taking my hand. “We don’t need to buy here, where people don’t know how to have fun. Come on, baby.”
I nod, and he pushes through the crowd, dragging me behind him. I stay silent like a good, submissive wife but lift my head. I make the mistake of looking around, almost freezing when I see Taylor, who is watching us in confusion. His dark, slicked back dyed hair is unmistakable, as are his glasses and dark, squinting eyes.
Shit.
I duck my head quickly and follow Eric.
“Excuse me, miss. Do I know you?” The voice is low, familiar.
Taylor.
I go cold all over.
