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I grasp her chin and force her gaze, compelling her to tell me.
“I might want you to hold my hand.”
I cough out a laugh. “Easy. Done.”
“And if I require you to bite me?” she challenges, and I can feel my gaze growing dark, volcanic, dangerous.
“Then you know I won’t bite you gently. I’ll make it hurt until all you can think about are my teeth on you.”
She pushes me back, her hands on my shoulders as she adjusts herself until she’s straddling my waist. Her warm pussy is directly over my aching cock that didn’t get the message about not getting hard. Four brutal layers are all that separate us. That’s it.
She leans in, pressing her tits against my chest and bringing her mouth by my ear, forcing her neck by my nose, so I have no choice but to breathe her fragrance in again.
“Do you know what I used to love most about your pain?”
Fuck. I can’t speak. Like, this time, I actually can’t speak.
“The way you’d save it all for me,” she continues without waiting on me. “The look in your eyes as you finally succumbed and let me have every piece of you—something I knew you gave no one else. You don’t scare me, Lenox. You never did. I loved nothing more than turning your pain into our pleasure and watching your demons evaporate in my bed. So bite me, husband. Make me feel it. Distract me from my panic. But this time, I promise not to fall in love with you in the process.”
If only I could make the same promise for myself.
Chapter Thirteen
Lenox was, of course, right about the High Roller. Video footage of us appearing to cuddle and me straddling his lap hit Interntainment first and then went viral. I have no idea how much they paid for that video, but I’m assuming it was a lot.
Security brought us into the hotel through a back way, and I made my apologies to other members of the board about my early departure, but they didn’t care. I’m married. The shares of Monroe Securities are mine now. They’re thrilled.
And honestly, it’s not like I was adding anything extra beyond a face and a smile to this conference. I didn’t even know what an event actor was—I almost thought it was a barb at me when I first entered the conference room and heard the term. I frowned, and Lenox snickered before whispering in my ear, “That’s what you cybersecurity people call a hacker who infiltrates a system with the purpose of disruption or theft.”
Oops.
I didn’t see Alfie or Ezra before I left, nor did they text me again. Lenox ordered room service—since I hadn’t gotten to eat—and then we packed and went to the airport. By the time we boarded the plane two hours later, that’s when Lenox showed me the alert on his phone. Twenty minutes later, our High Roller video was everywhere.
“You didn’t try to stop it,” I note as I sink down onto the buttery-soft leather. I always liked this plane. It’s pretty.
Lenox picks me up and moves me over to the bench seat beside him, his fingers on my wrist, and it takes me a moment to realize he’s checking my pulse.
I snort. “It’s one milligram of Ativan. It just makes me a bit… loopy, I guess it’s the word you’d use. I’m not going to die.”
“It’s the only way I’ll inherit—section four, clause b, line eight.”
I cough out a loud bark, or at least it feels loud in my head. Who barks?
“You do,” he tells me holding me against him, and I might be musing aloud. “And no, I didn’t try to stop it,” he says, answering my question from like five minutes ago. “Right now, we appear like a newlywed couple in love. No one can contest that. Not even Alfie and Ezra. It’s why I put you in my lap in the first place.”
Oh. Smart. Wicked Smaht. Lenox doesn’t have much of a Boston accent, but every now and then certain words catch a hint of it, and I like it. It’s cute. Not that Lenox could ever be construed as cute.
“Then I straddled you because you’ve got a man piercing. Which, incidentally, I enjoyed a lot, though I am a bit disappointed I didn’t get to play with them using my tongue.”
He makes a strangled noise and brushes the hair back from my face, his other hand still on my wrist, and when did my face end up on his lap? Speaking of his man piercing… I squeeze his dick beneath my head, and he hisses out a breath, forcing my hand away.
“Jesus, Lenox, are you ever not hard? Did you take a certain blue pill while I took mine?”
He doesn’t answer, but I don’t really care because the plane starts to pick up speed, and despite the Ativan and my proximity to Lenox’s pierced monster, I stiffen and grip his thigh.
His hand strokes my hair, his fingers gliding through the tresses, and he brushes his fingers over my eyes, forcing them closed. “Just breathe. You’re fine.”
“Don’t be so nice to me,” I murmur.
