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"It’s a mountain top shoot, actually," Rod interjects.
"Change the location; I fancy a trip to the Caribbean."
"But—"
"How much do I pay you, Mullet?" I growl.
There’s silence then, "More than any athlete I’ve ever represented before."
"Exactly, get it done." I hang up, then pull my fingers from her pussy, and this time, bring them to my mouth and suck off her cum. Her sweetness sinks into my blood, and my heart stutters.It fucking stutters.I remove my hand from between her legs and she glowers at me. "You have no compunctions, do you?" she asks bitterly.
"None at all." I smirk.
"Five minutes to our destination, Mr. Kingston." The chauffeur’s voice sounds over the speakers.
"I fucking hate you." She scrambles off my lap so quickly, she lands on the floor in front of the seat.
"Better sit up and fix yourself before we arrive," I drawl.
She glowers at me, but pushes herself up onto the seat, then reaches for her phone. She checks her appearance, pats her hair, and touches up her lipstick. By the time we arrive at the venue, all traces of the woman who almost orgasmed around my fingers is replaced by the innocent facade of hers which she once used to fool me.
"Still a consummate actress, I see."
"Still a vicious twathole, I see," she snarls back.
"At least your insults have improved."
"Yours haven’t."
We pull to a halt in front of the venue. I push the door open, step out, then hold out my hand for her.
She scowls at it, then up at me.
I glare at her, she pales, then places her hand in mine. I help her out as the flashlights from the assembled media go off in our faces.
"Cade, who’s your date?"
"Cade, are you excited about the upcoming cricket tournament?"
"Cade, is it true, you’re retiring from cricket?"
I pause, then turn and train my gaze on the journalist who asked the question. I haul Abby close, bend her over my arm and kiss her. She stiffens, but when I bite down on her lower lip, she opens her mouth. I sweep my tongue over hers, drink from her, and the taste of her—that sweet, potent, complex taste of her goes straight to my head. My cock thickens, my thighs spasm, and a melting sensation squeezes my chest.Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What the hell is happening to me?I tear my mouth from hers as more flashes go off.
Her eyes are enormous, the pupils so dilated there’s only a circle of green left around the circumference. Her features are pale, her expression as stunned as mine. "Such a good little slut," I whisper, and her lips tighten.
I straighten her, wrap my arm about her waist and pull her close. "Smile, baby. Get those socialite skills of yours working now." I kiss her cheek, then turn to the journalist who asked the question.
"Do I look like I’m retiring anytime soon?"
He laughs. "You look in good shape, mate." He raises his camera and proceeds to click a few more pictures.
I turn and walk through the doors of the V & A Museum. She tries to pull her hand from mine, but I tighten my grasp. "Keep that game face on, Sparrow. I’m not letting you fly away yet."
Then, just because I know it’s going to piss her off, I bring her hand to my face and kiss her knuckles.
A shiver grips her.
"Seems your body likes what I do to it." I smirk
