Page 58 of Unleashed By Eden

Traitor.

I cross to the bed, lift her pillow, and breathe her in. My balls ache because they know that scent. And they want back in.

I set the paper rose in the indentation where her head would lie, a stupid little marker that I was here, thinking of her, and force myself back out before I do something idiotic like whip my cock out.

The conference room is already full when I walk in. Long tables, stacks of glossy posters and vinyl records, black markers lined up military neat. The guys are each at their own station, heads down, hands moving on autopilot, signing their lives away.

My eyes find her first. They always do.

She’s in her usual gear: tight T-shirt showcasing those gorgeous tits, black boots, black jeans. Her hair falls in a dark sheet down her back, and I miss the feel of it in my hands, the smell of it—it’s burned into my brain. Jesus Christ, I could almost come in my pants from the memory alone.

Our eyes meet, and my heart fucking melts.

Whatever’s on my face makes her widen her eyes and snap her focus away, lifting the camera to shoot Theo instead. I catch the slight curve of her mouth a second before she schools it straight again.

Mika’s got a camera trained on me from the other side of the room. Megan stands near him, tablet in hand, watching everything.

I give the guys a chin-lift. Kai salutes me with his marker. Theo doesn’t look up, pen already flying. X nods.

I drop into the chair at my station, the table already laid out. Chris materializes at my elbow and slides the first stack of posters in front of me.

“You’ve got two hours to get through two thousand. Then an hour interview with Megan. A full hour.” He gives me a pointed look.

“Can’t wait,” I mutter under my breath. I was a dick to her the first time. I’m trying not to make a habit out of it.

“You know what would make this more bearable?” I call out a little louder. “A bottle of Macallan.”

“Fuckin’ aye,” Xander hollers from his table.

Vi shoots me a look that could strip paint. I bite the inside of my cheek and shut up.

“Or some groupies,” Theo adds. “Can we get some groupies in here?” He looks at Chris with way too much hope.

“No distractions,” Chris says. “Get to work.”

“She could sit under the table; she wouldn’t be a distraction,” Theo persists. “We wouldn’t even hear her, apart from the occasional gagging.”

X barks out a laugh. “It’s funny you think she’d gag on your dick. Nobody in the history of the world has had that problem.”

The room dissolves into laughter. Megan rolls her eyes. Vi turns away, shoulders shaking a little.

“Don’t make me separate you,” Chris warns.

“Come on, Daddy, don’t be mad,” Kai teases from the other end of the room, scrawling across a poster without even looking.

I chuckle and drop my head, letting my pen move as fast as I can without shifting my wrist. Chris slides another poster under my hand the second I lift it. We’ve got it down to a system. Machine mode.

Talk flows around us. The cameras capture it all while we get high off the Sharpie fumes. Vi circles the room, doing her thing. It’s torture, having her this close and not being able to look at her for too long in case someone notices.

Every few minutes, my gaze flicks up anyway, tracking her in my periphery. What she’s doing, who she’s talking to, watching her bend to get a shot. How she tucks her hair behind her ear with the back of her hand, camera still glued to her eye.

A couple of times, she catches me, her eyes snapping to mine while I’m already staring. She gives me this small, reluctant smile, and it damn near knocks the air out of my lungs.

Her smiles are rare. They feel earned, and I want more of them. All of them.

“Carter,” Chris snaps.

Shit.