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Chapter twenty-five
If it were up to me, I would have driven my own car to this thing, but whether by blood or by name, I was a Carmichael, and with that name came certain expectations. Especially when I took a princess as my date.
Whether it was for fundraisers like this or for customers at my club, I used the same limo service every time. I recognized our driver as one of the regulars. He glanced at Anniston without a word, then opened the rear door. If he knew who she was, he didn’t let it show. High-profile clients didn’t faze them. Discretion was part of their job. That was why I used them.
I climbed in, adjusted my tuxedo jacket, and watched as Anniston slid in beside me. Her dress fell open at the slit, revealing her long legs all the way up to the top of her thigh. I tried to ignore the thoughts filling my head, images of my hands bruising that flawless skin while I spread her thighs and buried my face in her pussy, of her lips wrapped around my cock, of her slick pink cunt, of her fingers pinching her nipples. Each thought bled into the next, and before I knew it, my dick was rock-hard. She shifted in her seat, and I caught sight of the bottom of her ass. Fuck. I had to swallow a groan.
“Are you wearing panties, Princess?” My lips curved into a smile. “Or did you leave them at home so you could ease your hand through that slit in your dress and finish what you started in the bathtub?”
She wet her bottom lip with her tongue as her eyes met mine. If we had more time, I would fuck that pretty mouth again right now.
“You could do it right now.” Her gaze shot to the tinted partition. I took her chin between my fingertips and turned her attention back to me. “He can’t see you.” I leaned in and brought my mouth to her neck. “Show me what you do to your pussy when you think of me.”
She swallowed hard, then crossed one leg over the other, but it did nothing to hide her skin. Her exposed flesh was like a drug. One glance, and I wanted more. I also wanted to rip that goddamn dress to shreds before anyone else took a hit.
“I wasn’t thinking of you.” She pulled her dress closed, shutting off my supply. “And that was a private moment. You had no business spying on me.”
“Tit for tat, baby.”
“You’re an asshole.” Pink heat flushed up her throat and to her cheeks.
I smiled, victorious. Her words said one thing, but her body language was practically begging for my cock. With every filthy word that left my lips, I was sinking deeper and deeper inside her. “Tell me something I haven’t heard all my life.”
We didn’t say another word the entire ride to Lincoln Center, but the air in the car was thick with tension. We climbed out when the driver opened the door, and I led Anniston up the steps and to the entrance. The iconic arched entrances of The Metropolitan Opera House were lit up in blue, the symbolic color for human trafficking. The lights beneath the center fountain made spouts of water flow in the same color. Paparazzi camped out along the wide concrete steps, flashing their cameras and yelling out names in hopes of getting any one of the dozens of celebrities’ attention. A few of them called out to Anniston, so I stopped, with her on my arm, and let them have their moment. With any luck, those pics would be blasted on Twitter within minutes. I knew Anniston was engaged to some asshole prince. Anyone with social media knew it. I also didn’t give a flying fuck. It was a bullshit arrangement made by her father. The media called it a fairytale romance. Another thing I hoped to blow out of the water. Maybe if her fiancé was informed that his soon-to-be bride was hanging out with the big bad wolf, that would inspire Winston to move a little faster.
She didn’t love that guy. Not one time during all this, did she ever even mention his name. My princess had no use for a prince. She needed the fire of a dragon.
Inside, the traditional seating had been replaced with round, linen-covered tables around a black and white checkered dance floor. Gold curtains cloaked the walls from floor to ceiling and crystal chandeliers gave the room an intimate glow. Off to one side was a stage set with a grand piano and cellist playing classical versions of modern pop songs. The low hum of chatter filled the large open space. Only an entity as strong as the Brotherhood could pull something like this off in a matter of days.
My mother was the first to greet us. She rushed across the room as though she’d been waiting to see us walk in.
“Anniston of Ayelswick.” She painted on a grin that her botox didn’t even touch and wrapped Anniston in a hug. “I’ve heard so much about you. It’s so good to finally meet you.”
The fuck?
Why was she acting like she was meeting my girlfriend for the first time? I made it a point to only see my mother on holidays and special occasions. Now, she wanted to act like we chatted every day.
Anniston gave her a polite smile, one that I was quickly learning she’d perfected over years of practice. It was different from the one she sometimes let slip when she was with me. And the one she gave Leo earlier.
My mom stepped out of the hug but held onto Anniston’s shoulders while she studied her face. “God, you look just like your mother.”
Anniston froze.
Silence spread thick in the air around us.
My heart pounded like I’d just finished a 5k in under twenty minutes. Sweat beaded at my forehead. The tuxedo felt suffocating, the bow tie around my neck growing tighter and tighter with every deep breath I inhaled.
Mom continued smiling as though she’d said nothing out of the ordinary.
Then a hint of a smile ghosted Anniston’s lips, a polite but silentthank you.
I cleared my throat. “I need to find Dad.”
She looked at me, her eyes wide, as if she were begging me to stay. I gave her a tight smile, then turned to walk away. I suddenly needed to put as much distance between us as possible. Even if that meant leaving her alone in a pool of piranhas. She’d held her own against me. Surely, she could handle my mother.
My father was leaning one shoulder against a wall with his back to me, talking to a man who had just run for mayor and won, thanks to a heartfelt campaign involving police officers and firemen.
My father owned a good chunk of real estate in New York. He rubbed elbows with politicians and city officials all the time. But something about the way they steered away from the crowd made me curious. Normally, Dad wanted to be seen and heard. He craved the validation.
