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I was getting closer to the edge, a much-needed orgasm so near that I could—
“Alert, alert, alert!” His phone sounded in his pocket, and he yanked his fingers out of me.
The look on his face let me know that he was planning to deny me the orgasm regardless of this interruption.
“Yes, Ryan?” He kept his eyes on me as he answered the call.
“I’ve cleared a route for you and Mrs. Carter to return home without being seen by the public,” he said. “I also have her sunglasses.”
“Did you go back to that gift shop and pay for them on her behalf?”
“I did, sir. Continue through the kitchen whenever you’re ready to leave the casino.”
“We’ll be right there.” He hung up and trailed a finger down my throat. “I hope I’ve made myself clear about you and other men while we’re married.”
“You’ve made me see how much of a psycho you can be.”
“I'll take that as a compliment.My opponents think that about me, too.” He smoothed my shorts into place. “You’re still drunk as hell right now, so if I were you, I’d watch my words.”
“I don’t need to do anything that’s—Now that you’ve spoken—” I struggled to finish a single thought. Tonight’s alcohol had seeped too deeply into my veins, clouding what was left of my coherency.
As if he could tell, Travis pulled me against his side and walked me through the kitchen until we approached an exit door.
We entered an empty alley where a black and silver McLaren stood waiting for us.
Too drunk to even sit up straight, I tried to lean back against the seat, but I fell over in his lap.
He ran his fingers through my hair as he drove.
“Travis?” I asked, struggling to keep my mouth shut, wanting to gain the upper hand just once.
“Yes?”
“I’ve dated other people since we ended things.”
“Everyone has to experience disappointment at some point in life.”
“You’re not the best I’ve ever had.”
“Tell me that when you’re sober.”
“I just want you to know that I didn’t wallow when we were over.” I lied. “Plenty of other guys were interested in dating me.”
He let out a low laugh. “I’m sure they were.”
“That doesn’t bother you?”
“Not really,” he said, “I don’t care how many guys you saw after me.”
“Why not?”
“Because as far as I’m concerned, your pussy has my signature on it and no other man will ever fuck you good enough to erase it.”
I shut my eyes and gave in to the drunken lure of sleep.
He’d won this round, hands down.
TWENTY-ONE
