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“If you had to guess…?” She twists her mouth as we both wrack our brains.
“Viv is in my top ten.”
“She’s in my top two, and she isn’t number two.” Something occurs to her as she gnaws her lip. “But we’re talking about the leak, right? Not the stalker letters?”
I shake my head. Viv is too direct to hide behind a letter. She would come in with a knife in each hand.
But then again, I would have never thought she would fire Sloan out of jealousy, either. Maybe I don’t know her as well as I think.
“She hit on me at dinner the other night.” I wasn’t going to tell her, but I need her to know everything. In case Viv is the stalker, she needs to know exactly how bad things are.
“I expected as much.” When I raise my eyebrows at her because she never mentioned anything about it to me, she laughs but just a little. “I can see how she looks at you. Like you’re her dessert. Correction: like youwereher dessert, then Little Miss Satan—that’s me—came in and stole it.”
I chuckle darkly. “That does paint a pretty accurate picture.”
“So she’s pissed off. I don’t want to throw stones at her—unless we’re talking literally—but that’s motivation.”
She’s right. No one but Viv would want to hurt me, hurt Sloanandme this way. No one else would know how.
34
SLOAN
The army of paparazzi at the gate has only grown since the news leaked. I can’t even pass by the window without camera bulbs flashing. So far, the only photos have been blurry and my name is still unreleased, but it’s not because they aren’t trying.
Because my stalker is still out there, Beck is convinced I shouldn’t leave the house.
As annoying as I would normally find it to be trapped inside, right now, I’m fine with it. But Beck has a road trip coming up, which means I’m holding down the fort on my lonesome for the next few days.
As I’m whining for the tenth time today and he’s packing a bag, I throw myself back onto the bed in a fashion so dramatic that Scarlett O’Hara is weeping with envy.
“It’s going to be so lonely without you.”
“It’s three days, angel.” He plants a hand on each side of my face and presses a kiss, firm and demanding, against my mouth.
When he tries to pull away, I hang on, wrap my arms around his neck, and smile wickedly. “I don’t work for the team anymore. So I don’t have to lobby for you to go to work. And as a matter of fact, my interests are leaning the other way.” I raise up enough to trail a line of teasing open-mouthed kisses along the line of his neck.
He moans and twitches. “You’re making it very hard.”
“Hard to leave?”
He grins. “That, too.” But with a sigh, he pulls away. “Why don’t you call Cassie and Monroe and ask them to spend the weekend with you?”
I’m sure he’s making the suggestion for my benefit, but it’s not a terrible idea. I could use a few days with the girls. Better than a few days with just my thoughts.
“You can call that masseuse we had over when you first started working here,” he adds. “Do a whole in-house spa day.”
“It’s okay; we don’t need a masseuse. We’ll watch TV, talk about boys, braid each other’s hair.”
“If you throw in a lingerie pillow fight, I could be convinced to stay home.”
I laugh and poke him in the chest. “You don’t strike me as the type to share.”
His smirk darkens to a scowl. “Damn right. I don’t share. Ever. But if you and your friends want to put on a show to get my motor running, I’ll tune in for the livestream.”
“I’ll keep it in mind,” I purr in my best phone sex voice. “But I don’t usually need help to get your motor running.”
To prove my point, I lay my hand over his dick and give a squeeze.
