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“Which is what you were when your father suggested marriage.” I wasn’t appalled. Arranged marriages were still popular in certain cultures as well as to pay off debts. However, it highlighted the kind of reprehensible man her father really was.
Her laugh was laced with bitterness. “Maybe I was born older. I knew the situation with my father early on. My sister always thought of him as a hero. Anyway, I refuse to allow the situation to continue.”
“Yet you’ll enter into a marriage with a stranger.”
“On my terms. Besides, you aren’t a stranger any longer.”
“Be careful, my bride to be. I could sweep you off your feet without hesitation.”
She eased her hand to my aching cock, squeezing. “And be careful, Mr. Mile High. Your soft underbelly is showing.” Backing away, she blew me a kiss before heading toward the entrance.
And I was forced to adjust my cock.
I would allow her the joy of sharing what she had with her father. As long as he played by the rules tonight. “You will obey me.”‘
“Why, of course.”
Her laugh was laced with mischief. “Then remove your panties.”
“I’m sorry?” She was completely thrown by my command.
“You heard me. When I give you an order, it’s not a request. I expect it to be followed.”
“You will always be a bastard. Won’t you?”
I grinned in partial response. “That’s what I was born and bred to be. If you don’t comply, the first order of business will be to spank you in front of your father.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Wouldn’t I?”
There was such fire in her eyes, yet I was able to gather a scent of her arousal. She pushed me away, scanning the parking lot. I’d planned the timing, arriving a fashionable twenty minutes late on purpose.
“You weren’t born to be a bastard, Kendrick. You were bred to be a dangerous man,” she said casually as she slipped her fingers under her dress, fighting with the body-hugging material to shimmy her panties down her legs. I crouched down, peering up at her while the lacey material fell to the pavement. Then I lifted her leg, taking my time to ease the thong over one heel then the other.
“Perhaps you’re right.” I couldn’t help myself, brushing the tips of my fingers up one calf, pressing kisses against her heated skin.
She took a deep breath, leaning her head against the exterior of the building. “But you will forever be a sexy bastard.”
I chuckled and bit her leg before standing, pulling the damp lace to my nose and mouth, taking a deep whiff. I could drink in her musky scent for days. I took my time, enjoying the moment until hearing someone walking by. Only then did I slip the pair into my suit jacket. “Much better. Time to go inside.”
“So bad. You are so bad.”
“Another compliment.”
We walked forward and I took a deep breath, curious as to what the evening would bring.
Social gatherings.
I’d endured dozens in my life starting at an early age. You didn’t get to be in the upper echelon of society, as my parents had, by hiding in the shadows. At least not according to Dominion Gregory. He’d never avoided the limelight, parading my mother, a former pageant beauty queen, in front of the paparazzi every chance he got. When his children, or his preferred spawn, as he affectionately liked to refer to us, were old enough to understand the statement ‘smile until it hurts,’ we were shown off as well.
That was until I’d reached the ripe old age of fifteen. Then suddenly, my father had ripped me out of the illustrious private school I’d been in only thirty miles away, sending me abroad for advanced training. That had begun my shift into becoming an assassin. I’d hated being away from home but in looking back, I realized the experience had been something dreams were made of for a cold-hearted bastard like myself.
There’d been initial rumors I’d died in a boating accident and my parents were grieving. Then I’d heard the one that I’d fallen ill to bone cancer, barely hanging on in some Swiss hospital. My parents had neither confirmed nor denied until a couple of years later when a tenacious reporter had gotten wind of the fact I’d been enrolled in the most expensive school in the world. The man had lost his job days later, and poof. He’d suddenly disappeared a week after that.
I’d never asked my father if the man had been paid off to escape to a tropical island for the rest of his life or if he ended up at the bottom of an ocean. I hadn’t cared. What it had taught me was how powerful my father truly was. I’d respected him on that day and every one of them since.
Including in his death.
