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I swallow roughly, my mouth drying beneath his unwavering gaze, as satisfaction fills up the air around him, stealing the oxygen from my lungs. "Eight thousand..."
"Louder," he murmurs.
"Nine thousand..."
Heat floods between my thighs when he hums, again, and right as ten leaves my lips, his brush against my ear. "Such a good girl, bleeding my wallet dry. Do you want more, baby?"
Shock pummels through me with a sharp inhale. I meet his eyes, mine flicking between them, searching. He's serious. I could take the rest of what's in here, and he wouldn't think twice. In fact, he wants me to. Something so far from necessary, in the eyes of our contract, that it has my head spinning.
I snap his wallet shut, and quickly pass over the money, gaining the teller's attention, who made herself quite busy with whatever's oh-so urgent on her computer. Embarrassment marks my cheeks, but only a mild blush. I'm too preoccupied, focusing on the hand still pressed against the small of my back.
With a polite smile, the teller slides over two vouchers, then zips along to another booth. I hold my breath, aware of Hayden's intoxicating nearness as I grab the vouchers and...
Don't move a muscle?
On any other day, I'd take this as a perfect moment to dash off, to shake the emotions that're wound deep inside me while devising excuses for their existence. But... not today. I turn to Hayden, staying close in his presence, as if he's a warm fire on a windy night, and hand him his voucher.
I crane my head—and there's that softness again.
I'm taken aback at the smile he beams down at me. He doesn't speak a word. No snide remark. No sultry innuendo. No humor. Just... a smile filled with something I grasp instantly. Maybe because it's reflected in his eyes, too.
Longing.
And for perhaps not the first time, but the first time it's been strong enough not to deny or diminish or cover up with the wrongs of our past...
I feel it, too.
The attraction.
"We don't want to miss the race." He offers me his arm, and taking it is like second nature.
Hayden guides us down a hallway that's noticeably emptier than it was ten minutes ago, pressing a phone to his ear. "Yes, Dad, we're on our way up now."
Nerves bundle in my gut as we turn a blind corner, every step like a countdown toward not just a figure from my past, but one who holds my future in his hands.
Warren Kingston.
"Save us two seats... No, not for—no, Dad, I told you, I brought my girlfriend."
I stifle a smirk. Girlfriend. That's new to his vocabulary—but also novel to my ears, which could be to blame for why my smile is growing.
"Yes, Dad," Hayden sighs, riddled with annoyance. "You heard me, right. I said girlfri—"
Warren's voice elevates, breaking through the line, just enough for me to hear. "Enough lies, boy. Don't bring one of your whores around the family..."
Shit. They may be working together, but it seems their father-son relationship is still in the dumps.
Hayden tenses against me. "I said she's my—"
He stops us abruptly in front of a corridor as he drags the phone from his ear. "He hung up on me," Hayden says, his forced chuckle hinting at his lack of concern. Maybe he assumes I didn't hear Warren's remark. Honestly, I wish I hadn't, but it's not like that would make what's coming any easier.
"Ummm..." I tug on his sleeve, pointing back to where we came. "I think we passed it again."
"That's cute, Jules. You think we're general admission?"
"I thought that's all there was. Where are we going, then?"
He gestures to the sign above. "Take a guess."
