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“Fine, but next time tell me. Don’t do it behind my back.”
He cocks his head. “Like you did with Terry?”
“Seriously? I apologized and told you how horrible I felt about that. As a mother, it’s—I feel terrible.”
“Good, I want you to. I want you to be terrified of making another mistake like that, because next time, it might not turn out so well.”
I glare up at him. “You’re an asshole, you know that?”
“Yeah, I do.” He reaches out to brush my hair behind my ear, but I turn my head away from him. He’s clearly upset. His hand darts out to grab my chin and turn my face back toward him. “But you like it, don’t you, Jules?” I stare at him. This is the first time he’s called me by my nickname. “Even if you never admit it,” he drags his hand down my jaw until it rests at the base of my throat, “we both know you like it. It gets you wet knowing I’m not a soft man you can boss around.” He presses his fingers against the sides of my throat. “Or maybe that’s what gets you off.”
“I’ve never pretended it doesn’t. I enjoy some fire—some attitude—but you try my patience.”
His other hand rests on the brick wall above my head as he leans in closer. “I don’t know what that was earlier—you suddenly giving me the cold shoulder when my cum was leaking down your thighs this morning when you woke up—but get it out of your system right now.”
“God,” I attempt to look away from him, but he jerks my head back into place, “you’re so crass.”
“Mm-hmm, and it’s about to get a whole lot worse, because after your friends leave tonight, I’m going to show you exactly what gets me off.” I roll my eyes and that only spurs him on. “Go ahead, keep shit-talking, keep up the attitude, but when you’re begging for forgiveness later when my cock is so deep down your throat you can barely breathe, I’ll remember this.”
“And if I sayno?”
He smirks. “You won’t.” His hand migrates up my neck, into my hair, as he tugs me forward, his lips hovering over mine. “I am going to stuff every fucking hole of your body tonight with my tongue, fingers, or cock. There won’t be a single fucking inch of you I haven’t touched.”
My entire body is alight with excitement. I lean forward to kiss him, but he jerks my neck back, shaking his head.
“Tsk, tsk. You don’t deserve that yet. If you behave yourself through dinner, I’ll let you touch me, otherwise, you’re my plaything tonight, kitten.”
He releases me, walking away like we just had a discussion about what color of paint would look best in the living room. He resumes his rounds, looking up at the cameras before disappearing around the corner.
I walk back into the house, my head feeling like it’s floating above my body, which is aching with need.
“Did you just—” Brett glances around then lowers his voice. “Did you just have a quickie?” The second he says it, Blaire’s head whips around like Linda Blair’s inThe Exorcist.
“A WHAT?”
“No,” I say, bringing my finger up to my lips and shushing my friends. “Stop it! Chloe is in the other room,” I half-whisper, half-mouth. Blaire gives me a stare and I shrug. “Sorry, I was going to tell you. We’ll talk later.” I do a weird sideways head tilt, trying to get the shock to dissipate quickly, when I hear the back door open and Alex walk in.
To my surprise, everyone behaves at dinner—most likely because Chloe is present. If she hadn’t been, I’m sure the conversation would’ve been thick with innuendo and giggles from Brett and Blaire.
Chloe retires to her room to read, and after I make sure her lights are out and she’s in bed, we sit in the living room, sipping wine and talking about the case until I can’t take it any longer.
“Okay, enough work talk, please. What’s new with you two?” I ask.
“Seriously?” Blaire asks, looking at me then Brett. “Spill.”
I look over my shoulder, double-checking that Alex isn’t within earshot, and briefly tell her that he and I have kissed.
“That’s it?” she says, clearly disappointed.
“Hey,” Alex says, interrupting us, appearing out of nowhere. “I’m going to shower and head upstairs. Just wanted to tell you guys good night and thanks for the lasagna, Blaire. Seriously fantastic.”
“Anytime,” she smiles.
“Good night.” I wave dismissively at him and he smirks, looking down at the floor before turning his eyes back on me. He steps through the doorway, walking over to where I’m seated on the couch. He grabs my hand, pulling me upright just as his hands are in my hair, his tongue in my mouth.
“See you in bed,” he says before walking out of the room and up the stairs, leaving me completely speechless.
“Clearly,” Blaire says after several seconds of silence, “waymore than just a kiss.”
