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Sighing I roll my eyes. “I just needed a minute. So much has happened in the last few days and I just needed a moment to pause and breathe somewhere quiet.”
“You can’t breathe with me?” There’s a tinge of hurt in his voice, but his eyes just look a little sad.
“When it’s just me and you then yes, but not with everyone else there too.”
“You could have just told me.”
Shrugging, I bite at my bottom lip, wanting to look away from his compelling eyes but knowing that I just can’t, that I don’t really want to.
His lips take mine, startling me with the intensity and desperation of his kiss and I lose myself and let him find me. “Let’s go home,” he whispers, when he finally releases me.
A soft smile spreads across my lips and I nod, letting him gather the rest of my things and take me home, to his boat, his favourite place in the world, the place where I’m his.
8
Carson
It’s been a week since I freaked out and almost broke down the door of Priss’s hotel room. Since then she’s spent every night in my arms, and I’m pretty sure I’m unhealthily obsessed with her. Today’s the day that we’re going to leak the news that the Archibalds are missing, it’s the first step in our revenge plans and I’m eager to get the ball rolling.
The girls want to get into the house and start reeking some havoc, and the rest of us are ready for some retribution too. Priss slicks a final coat of gloss to her pouty lips, turning her head from side to side to check her reflection in the mirror. She looks fucking perfect as always. Her hair’s up in a braid today and I have to physically fight down the urge not to gather it in my fist and drag her head back to kiss me.
This self-imposed sex ban is driving me insane, and I’m almost at the point where I’m considering just fucking her until she understands that she’s indisputably mine. She’s as frustrated as me and the constant sexual tension that’s flowing between us is almost unbearable. I started all this because I wanted her to be secure, and know without doubt that I want so much more from her than just her body, only now it’s become almost a war between us.
I want her to be with me fully, to be mine, and she wants me to just accept what we have and be okay with it.
If I were a different man, I’d give in, but I don’t want to accept just a part of her, I want all of her, and if I have to live with blue balls until she finally gives herself to me fully, I will.
Arlo’s investigator found out that the Archibalds are in Marrakesh and that the girls’ father is pretending that he’s meeting potential clients, but in reality they’re just living in a palatial house on the beach and doing nothing other than robbing the rest of the world of useful oxygen.
Unlike celebrities, the people who inhabit the world of the upper ten percent of America’s richest families are not hampered by common paparazzi. But that doesn’t mean that the media has no interest in us. We used an article to help bring Tally to the forefront of everyone’s minds and we’re going to use them again to splash the news that the girls’ parents are missing.
Our plan is to leak information to some of the smaller news outlets first, and then hope that with a little probing and the girls being seen visibly upset in the right places and by the right people, that the news will spread organically to the bigger outlets, before it becomes front page news.
By the time it reaches the Archibalds’ notice, who will of course make a statement to say they’re alive and well, we hope to have gotten access to the house and caused as many problems as possible.
“You ready, baby?” I ask Priss, poking my head around the door to the bathroom where she’s messing with her hair. It’s up today in some fancy braid, and I love being able to see the sexy curve of her neck bare, ready for me to press my lips against, to nip and suck.
“I just need to do my lipstick,” she smiles, holding up the tube of shiny stuff.
“Okay cool, breakfast is ready.”
Her smile falls, but she forces it back into place and nods. “I’ll be right out.”
I hate that eating is an issue for her. She hasn’t had another meltdown like she did the first morning, but then I always make sure to tell her to eat. I don’t know if it helps or not, but she always takes a least a few bites, even if it’s not as much as I’d like.
A few minutes later she slides onto the stool next to mine and takes a sip of the coffee I’ve already made for her. The smile that spreads across her face is the sexiest thing in the world. She drinks it with full-fat caramel creamer every time and although I don’t know for certain, I swear she’s saying a silent fuck you to her mom with every sip.
She has a real sweet tooth, so when I slide over the freshly made waffle covered in berries and drizzled with maple syrup her eyes light up.
“You’re making me even more spoiled, cooking for me every day,” she grins, leaning over and pressing a soft kiss to my lips. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, I like looking after you.”
“I can look after myself you know,” she says, her fork poised over the plate.
“I know you can, but how about we take care of each other?”
Another soft smile lights up her face and she nods, curling her arm around the back of my neck and kissing me again.
