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I brought my lips to hers, the kiss silencing her fears and soothing my own. I held onto her lips, only letting go when her hand dropped to my crotch.
“Penny Robertson, I’m beginning to think you only want me for my body,” I smirked against her mouth. The kiss alone was enough to make me wish I had a partition to roll up so I could have my way with her. The feel of her fingers wrapping around my cock hardened me instantly and in that moment, there was only one place I wanted to be...and it was between her legs.
I swept my tongue over my bottom lip and I swore I could still taste her, so I drew it over my top one too. My lips curled with pleasure at the memory of her body. How warm she was. How she invited me to taste her. Lose myself in her.
I drew my hand up her thigh and the little gasp that fell from her mouth sealed the deal. Nothing else mattered. I wanted to sink my fingers inside her, watch the way she let go when my fingers explored and I discovered every octave of the moans that flowed from her trembling lips.
Driver be damned—I wanted to make her come.
And then the GPS ruined the moment.
“In 0.3 miles, make a right on Cedar Way.”
It was barely above a whisper, as the driver kept the volume at an unobtrusive level, but it was equivalent to an alarm going off in my head. The house was on Cedar Way.
Danger! You’re almost home!
I jerked away from Penny like I’d been electrocuted. Her body went as rigid as if she’d felt the current too, then her face fell.
“Are you having second thoughts?”
The answer was yes, but it wasn’t because of anything she’d done. It was because of my fears. My worries. My time with her had been surreal and unexpected in the most amazing way. But I knew exactly what to expect with my family. Disappointment. Ambivalence. Ignorance. And for the first time, I wanted the opposite. I wanted them to morph into the loving family I refused to admit I wanted.
I wanted her to like them.
I wanted them to like her.
But how could any of that happen when I’d only met her because I was having one last night of debauchery, and the only reason we were together was because my father had ordered me to settle down, or else?
I couldn’t look at her, because somehow, she could cut through the bullshit and see the guy I hid. No amount of money or charm could shield me from those hazel eyes.
And even though my body buzzed from our kiss, my cock still stiff and holding out hope, my heart...well, I refused to even acknowledge the crazy plans it had for me...
I glanced down at my Rolex like I suddenly remembered that we had a tight schedule to keep.
“This shouldn’t take too long,” I told her with a sly grin. “Then we can make things interesting. Trust me, I’m going to get my money’s worth.”
I froze. What the fuck did I just say to her?!
“Excuse me?” she gasped.
I wanted to take the words back, my head, my fears, taking the wheel and driving me straight to Dickheadville, USA. I hesitantly glanced at her and the look on her face made my heart seize up in my chest. Her forehead was a series of lines, her eyes slits of frustration, but I saw the water that threatened to dump onto her cheeks any minute. She was hurting...and this had nothing to do with her parents or her sister. This was all me.
I opened my mouth to apologize, but she wasn’t done.
“Your ‘money’s worth?’ I let you eat me out and now you get to talk to me like I’m just a piece of tail?” I knew she was pissed because she didn’t even care that the driver could hear our conversation loud and clear. She was the kind of woman that blushed at all things sex related in public but behind closed doors was wild as hell.
She was the kind of woman that I didn’t deserve.
“I didn’t mean-” I hushed the rest of the pathetic defense I’d been ready to lobby. I could convince just about anyone of anything. To be successful in my field, you have to be able to read people and ascertain exactly what they want...so you can get them to do exactly what you want. She wanted me to tell her that what we had was special, even with all the evidence to the contrary, like my asshole comment. The unnerving part was that I wanted that too.
I had no idea how to fix this, so I opted for a subject change. “Home sweet home,” I joked, peering out the window.
She didn’t laugh. The only sound that followed my comment besides the awkward silence was the beep as the driver punched in the security code at the gate.
Whether it was daytime or beneath the cover of darkness, the Wade Estate always filled me with a paralyzing sense of dread. The property sat on top of a hill, the architect perfectly capturing how important it was for my father to look down at everyone, judging them with little mercy.
Oak trees stood like some wood and earth army, their spindly branches stretching and pointing at our car. The house itself scowled down at us, the gothic architecture more horror than the whimsical fantasy my mother usually described it as to other people.
