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My casual nod belied my clenching stomach. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had someone over—I didn’t bring people to my home for hookups, and I’d stopped dating long before I’d moved into this apartment just over a year ago—but the urge to have Hugh in my private space was nearly overwhelming. “I can show you my place. You can see where your favorite hedgehog lives.”
The edge of his lip quirked up. “I am curious.”
We were already kissing frantically by the time we exited the private elevator into my apartment. If Hugh hadn’t stopped me, I might have completely forgotten about poor Frank.
“Frank!”
For a split second, I thought he’d called me by the wrong man’s name. When I finally got a few blood cells back into my brain, I pulled away from him long enough to take a breath. “Yes, come see his room, and you can help me feed him and put him to bed.”
Hugh’s eyes caught the light, full of playful teasing. “Okay, but then I think it would only make sense for you to take me to your room so I can help feed you and put you to bed…”
So much for whatever blood had made it to my brain. With the sultry emphasis he’d put on the word “feed,” the blood had drained completely away, leaving my head full of nothing but thin clouds colored by an intense need to rush Frank’s bedtime routine.
16
HUGH
Watching Oscar take tender care with Frank, despite being in a hurry to get done with it, made me even more of a sucker for him than before.
“He’s fine,” he said as we left Frank’s room, sounding more like he was reassuring himself than me.
“I’m surprised he doesn’t sleep in your room.”
Oscar shook his head. “It’s not really putting him to bed like I implied. He’s nocturnal. So he’ll be up all night playing. I tried sharing a room with him early on, and it was a disaster.”
I felt nervous about what was coming next. Being in this sleek penthouse, where even the light switches looked more expensive than my most tricked-out camera rig, was intimidating. It wasn’t often I felt the full weight of Oscar’s wealth, but tonight in the Ferrari and again in this apartment, I was left with the reality of what a vastly different life he led than I did.
When Oscar stepped across the hall into his bedroom, he turned and caught something in my expression. “You having second th?—”
“No! Definitely not. It’s not that. I’m just… I’m realizing how fucking rich you are. And it’s strange.”
He paused and frowned. “Strange how? I thought you knew?—”
“No, I do. I do know. The way you know what the northern lights look like from seeing images of them online or on television. But I imagine it’s completely different seeing them in person. More real. More… overwhelming.”
Oscar’s jaw moved. “Hugh. This…” He waved his hand around the warmly lit bedroom. A wall of windows showed the glittering lights of the Manhattan skyline across the dark void of Central Park. The furniture was modern but lived-in. It wasn’t stark and cold but full of color and oddities here and there. It was incredibly… well… Oscar. “This is just stuff. Purchased with money I made with a combination of smarts, hard work, and an incredible amount of luck. None of this defines me, and I hope you don’t think?—”
I reached out to cup his face before kissing him to stop the flow of defensive and fearful words. He didn’t need to explain himself to me. I never wanted him to feel like he needed to explain himself to anyone.
Oscar pulled back after a few moments of indulging in the kiss. “You know what rich men expect when they bring an unsuspecting victim to their evil lair, right?” He lifted a hand toward my head, fingers catching on a curl. I could tell by the lustful expression on his face he was no longer concerned that his wealth would somehow scare me away. “Let me have my wicked way with you, Hugh Linzee.”
I nodded, not trusting my voice. Instead of speaking, I pulled his sweater up and over his head, tossing it gently onto a nearby chair.
Slowly, Oscar began to unbutton his shirt. His eyes remained locked on mine. My mouth went dry.
He pulled the tails of his shirt free of his pants, and I couldn’t resist dropping my gaze to his chest, letting my eyes travel down the ridges of his abdomen to where his dark happy trail disappeared into his low-slung pants that were already bulging.
Heat bloomed inside me at the sight of that bulge. I noticed then the other tells of his arousal. The shallower breaths, the flush along his shoulders and neck. The lazy smile as he looked me over. When his eyes landed on my own tented trousers, they stopped and flared.
“You planning to keep those on?” he asked, his voice husky.
I swallowed and shook my head.
He reached out and started working on my shirt first. His movements were teasing and slow, his fingertips barely brushing against my heated skin as he worked his way down toward my pants. I was nearly trembling with desire by the time he pushed the shirt from my shoulders, stepping closer so that he could ease it down my arms before letting it drop on the floor.
We were both shirtless now, the heat of him radiating against my bare chest. Technically, our game of pretend had ended the moment we’d left Abby’s party. We could set it aside for the night and pick it back up in the morning before brunch. But why bother worrying about technicalities now? Especially when I had Oscar half-naked in front of me, his cock straining and ready, my own pulsing with desire.
I reached for him then, my palm moving to the back of his neck. That was all it took to break whatever spell had been holding us apart. We crashed into each other, our bodies colliding, mouths hungry.
