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“Nah. If anything, I should be jealous.” I slip the blade back in, sliding it into my pocket. “I have plans for Amara. Blood play. Something kinky. Something that’ll make me wish my teeth could be sharp enough to get the job done. Cyclone’s going to have so much fun.”
Unphased by my depravity, Killian unbuttons his suit jacket. He eyes me curiously
His amusement is short-lived, though. “Speaking of your girl…”
“Our,” I correct. I’m his and hers, blah, blah, blah. It’s sentimental crap, but it has to be said.
“Our.” A flash of possessiveness flares in Killian’s eyes.
“Yes. About Amara.” I scratch my stubbled cheek. “What’s up? Wanna know if she fakes her orgasms? The answer is no. Never.”
Killian licks the upper row of his teeth. “How can you be so sure?”
“I am.”
“Maybe she’s a really good actress.” He doesn’t mean it.
Still, his taunting has me snapping out of my laid-back position.
“She might be a good actress. After all, she’s good at everything she does.” My foot drops to the floor, both hands on my knees as I lean into his face. The scent of his aftershave turns me right the fuck on. “But her pussy isn’t.”
Silence. A challenge.
“You know what? Let’s call her and ask.”
“Carter.” He grabs my chin, ensnaring my gaze in his. “You’re not allowed to mention her orgasms, yours, or mine while we’re alone. I can’t get hard at work.”
“Is that an order?” I speak inches from his face. Baiting him. “Dad?”
“Step. On second thought, we should call Amara. I imagine she’d give me permission to spank your ass raw for that last bit.” His eyes narrow. “With or without her being present.”
“Do it, then.”
I’m hard, my cock straining against my pants. I don’t wait for Killian to respond, fishing my phone out and dialing Amara’s number. Once it starts ringing, my eyes don’t leave Kill’s.
His nostrils flare. “Phone sex.”
“Yeah.” The phone rings. “We both get to tell Amara what to do. How to come. With our pants off.”
We wait until it goes to voicemail.
“Weird.” I frown, breaking eye contact. The CCTV app doesn’t show her anywhere around the penthouse. She’s not in the shop, either.
“She would’ve called to let us know if she left the house.” Killian releases me, sitting back. “She’s probably in the bathroom. Don’t worry.”
“You’re right.” His calm demeanor soothes my frayed nerves. “Next time we leave the house, I’m putting a tracker on her.”
Killian quirks an eyebrow, giving me that you’re being crazier than usual look. When I shrug, he schools his features.
“About the man who broke into her apartment. Chuck.” Killian cuts to the question he’s been meaning to ask from the get-go. Showing me that he, too, is crazy about her. Obsessed with keeping her safe. “Any news?”
“No. I’ll text them again.” Same as I have whenever I fucking could.
This time, however, they beat me to it. A notification flashes on the screen of my phone.
“Fucking finally.” Impatience takes over and I unlock the phone. “So Chuck worked on his own. No money trail. No calls to anyone but his mother. He was a nobody. A stalking thieving, probably-rapist nobody.”
“Great news.” While the tension leaves Killian’s shoulders, I’m on edge all over again.
