‘You look tired,’ Thomson remarks as we sweep the lobby of my apartment building for any trace of devices, spyware, bugs, etc. It’s almost ten p.m. and we’ve been on the go since before six a.m. I’m beat. We started the day with a radio interview with Ireland’s most popular female DJ, Abby Connolly, followed by a charity lunch at the Shelbourne—an appearance Avery point blank refused to cancel. They’re fundraising for single mothers—unsurprisingly, she’s a huge advocate, given she was raised by one. Then we met her agent, Zack Kiel, this evening. He’s another creepy cunt if ever I met one, but I’ve resigned myself to the fact the glamour industry is crawling with them. Zack’s background check came back clear, and he was in Italy the week Scarlett and James got married.
‘Something keeping you up at night?’ Thomson continues to tease. ‘Or someone, perhaps?’
‘Don’t,’ I snap. When I’m satisfied with our safety checks, I motion for Collins to help Avery out of the SUV.
‘I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again.’ Thomson watches Avery exit the vehicle. ‘She’s your future wife.’
Irritation flares in my chest. Not at Thomson, but because his remark sluices open something inside of me that I’ve spent years trying to bury. I vowed I’d never enter into a serious relationship again but if the circumstances were different, if Avery didn’t crave being ogled naked, maybe, just maybe, there might be a modicum of hope for the future.
But there isn’t.
‘I pay you for protection, not for you to play Cupid.’ I dust off some imaginary lint from my suit, then fall into step beside the woman that even Thomson’s noticed I’m falling head over heels in love with.
Fuck.
There’s no point denying it. I love listening to the sound of her soft even breaths as she sleeps. I love the way her eyes flash with desire or devilment before she says something suggestive to shock me. I love knowing she’s under my roof, only a few feet away from me. I love the way she demands her daily questions like they’re her god-given right. I even love how she struts around half naked most of the time, even if it is giving me a case of serious blue balls. Hell, I think deep down I’ve been half in love with the woman for years.
No one has ever even attempted to infiltrate my defences before. No one until her. Avery is like a circling sniper, determined to capture my heart one way or another. And every day it’s getting harder to hold out.
There have been no calla lilies in almost two weeks, which is why I’ve formulated a plan to lure the stalker out. When I suggested to Rian he should host celebrity nights at the Luxor Lounge, he ate it up like a dog. Given the fact that Avery started her career there, she seemed like the natural choice. By the time I finished with him, he thought celebrity night was entirely his idea. I love my brother—all of my brothers, but the fewer people in on my plan, the more chance it has of success. Given the stalker hasn’t had a chance to access Avery in weeks, I’m almost certain he won’t be able to resist this opportunity.
Meanwhile, Avery will cancel with a last-minute sickness from the safety of the States—I’ve already organised for an up-and-coming British burlesque dancer to stand in.
This is the perfect opportunity to grab him without endangering Avery. Because if we don’t get him soon, he will get her. This cunt is unfortunately the real deal. I assumed he’d slip up, make a mistake by now, but the only person who’s slipped up is me—each time I’ve succumbed to temptation. Which is why it can’t happen again.
But that’s easier said than done.
We step into the lift. My men avert their eyes from Avery out of respect. No one, not even Sterling, has dared to so much as glance her way since the yacht incident. She doesn’t offer me the same courtesy, though. Instead, she stares at me with that devilment I’ve come to simultaneously loathe and love. Loathe because I know she’s cooking up a new way to test my boundaries, and love because despite the struggle, her relentless pursuit of what she wants—me—is yet another thing I respect about her.
If I was a betting man, I’d say she’s about to offer me a nightcap. Attempting to ply me with whiskey or wine is one of her favourite tactics. Of all days, tonight I could do with one.
When we reach the top floor, I tilt my face toward the biometric panel, holding still as the scanner maps the unique pattern of my iris. The penthouse is silent when we enter. Sterling is in his quarters. Walsh bids us goodnight and heads to his, and Thomson heads home to his wife.
The furry ginger fucker is sprawled on my hand-tailored Meridiani couch, with all four legs in the air like he’s a goddamn pornstar. I shake my head with disgust while Avery coos over him, tickling his belly and nuzzling her cheek against his.
I slide my suit jacket off and hang it over the back of one of the stools tucked under the island. The spoilt little flea ball takes it as an invitation to pounce over to me and butt his head against my ankles.
‘Beat it,’ I bark.
‘Don’t be so mean!’ Avery stalks towards us and scoops him up into her arms like he’s the prodigal child. ‘He thinks you’re his daddy,’ she coos.
‘He doesn’t think anything. He’d need a brain for that.’ I scowl and the little fucker miaows in protest.
I suppose from certain angles he is kind of cute—if you forget the fact he cleans his own asshole with his tongue.
Avery raises him up into the air and presses a kiss to his nose before setting him down again. He scurries back towards the living area. If he scratches his claws on the curtains, I’m going to have new ones made out of his fur.
‘And then there were two.’ Avery eyes me like I’m a mint chocolate sundae; her tongue dips out over her lips.
‘Aren’t you tired?’
‘I am, but I’m also restless, you know?’
‘No, I don’t know,’ I lie. ‘Go shower. It’s late and we’ve another fun-filled day tomorrow.’ My voice rings with sarcasm.
She places her hands on her voluptuous hips. ‘Care to join me?’
‘The only thing I care for is your safety,’ I growl.
‘So stoic, as usual.’ She rolls her eyes. ‘But don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you’ve been looking at me all day.’
‘And what way would that be exactly?’ I roll up the sleeves of my shirt out of habit, and her focus shifts to my forearms.
‘Like you’re in pain from fighting the urge to pin me down and fuck me,’ she says before sashaying her voluptuous hips out of the room, leaving me to pick my jaw up from the floor.
I give her a fifteen minute head start. It goes without saying that I’ll sleep in her room now. I’ll sit with her until she’s asleep, then shower, throw on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, then creep back to the chaise lounge. I can’t wait to sleep horizontally again—naked—but that means no longer sharing a room with Avery, and I’m nowhere near ready to contemplate that right now.
I set the high-tech security system, then pad down the long wide corridor following the scent of peony perfume. I’ll miss it when I eventually do catch her stalker. Though the elusive fucker certainly isn’t making it easy.
I knock, and wait for her to say enter, then step in, closing the door swiftly behind me before fur-face can come flying in. The door clicks shut and I spin around. Avery is wearing the tiniest white triangle between her legs and nothing on top.
‘What are you doing?’ I keep my gaze firmly on her face. If I look now, my resolve will break.
‘Getting ready for bed,’ she says innocently, running her fingers through her hair.
‘I knew you were going to be trouble tonight.’ I palm my face. How am I meant to sit here with her looking like this?
‘I don’t know what you mean.’ She spins on her bare feet and bends over to flip back the covers, giving me a first row seat to the thong nestling between the smooth globes of the ass I’ve been fantasising about fucking since I first glimpsed it all those years ago.
She hops onto the bed, tucks her long legs beneath the duvet and pulls it up to her waist. It would be far kinder to my dick if she’d pull it over her tits, but she isn’t aiming for kind tonight. Blood floods to my cock as I stalk towards the chaise lounge.
‘You could sleep in the bed, you know. It’s big enough to fit an entire family,’ she says coyly. ‘I won’t touch you.’
I sigh and avert my eyes, refusing to bite. My back is in fucking bits from sleeping sitting up, but at this point, it’s not even her I don’t trust. It’s myself.
She pats the bed beside her. ‘Come on, Killian, your back must be in agony. I swear, I won’t touch you. Unless you want me to, that is.’ Her finger drops to her clavicle, lingering for a second before drawing a cross over the swell of her generously sized chest. ‘Cross my heart and hope to die.’
‘No one is dying. Not on my watch anyway.’ I’m so tired. Horny as fuck, but tired. Maybe just this once I could sleep next to her—above the covers, of course.
She scents my resolve wavering like a predator sniffing out its prey. ‘Please.’ She pouts, her teeth digging into her plump lower lip.
For fuck’s sake.
I stalk towards the bed. ‘Fine. But if you so much as lay a finger on me, I’m gone.’
She smirks, mirth flashing in her eyes. She’s up to something, but I have no idea what.
I kick my shoes off and fall onto the bed. It’s a battle to bite back the sigh of satisfaction as my shoulders sink into the plump pillows. I touch the lamp beside me and dim it to the lowest setting.
‘I didn’t get my three questions today,’ Avery says, turning on her side to face me. She places her hands beneath her cheek and gazes at me.
With only a foot between us, it almost feels more intimate than when I ate her out on the yacht.
‘Get them over with then.’ I attempt nonchalance, but I’m pretty sure I’m not fooling either of us. Despite my best efforts, my focus falls to her bare breasts, full and round and so ripe for devouring. My dick is so hard it’s fucking painful.
‘Is it hot in here, or is it me?’
‘That’s your question?’ I was expecting either another attempt to psychoanalyse me, or given her lack of nightdress, an attempt to seduce me with dirty talk.
‘Yep.’ She throws back the duvet in one fluid movement and, try as I might, I can’t stop myself from looking at the white sheer fabric sheathing her pussy. I’d bet my life she’s dripping for me.
I’m so fucked.
‘It’s hot,’ I admit. And it has nothing to do with the underfloor heating.
‘Take your clothes off. I promise I won’t touch you.’ She peeps up from beneath hooded eyes.
There’s a catch here. I just don’t know what.
‘No,’ I snap. There, that wasn’t so hard after all, was it? Not nearly as hard as my rock solid dick anyway. ‘Next question.’
‘Do you think about those times you gave in to me? Do they play on repeat in your head like an advert that you don’t want to remember, but is just too fucking catchy to forget?’
I slam my eyelids shut, but it does nothing to stop every fucking pixel-perfect image of Avery’s sex from flying to the forefront of my mind.
‘That was two questions masked as one,’ I growl.
‘So answer them.’ Her eyes glow with defiance.
‘Yes. And fucking yes.’
‘Good.’ Her huge pupils lock on mine as her hand slides inside the white slip of material.
‘Avery,’ I warn. My entire body vibrates with the need to pin her arms above her head and fuck her into next week.
‘I said I wouldn’t touch you. I didn’t say I wouldn’t touch me.’ She rolls on her back and parts her legs. When her finger finds her clit, she moans. Her eyelids flutter shut, elongated lashes sweeping over the prominent curve of her cheekbones.
Fucking witch.
I can’t tear my eyes from her, and she fucking knows it.
My pulse thunders through me, not loudly enough to drown out the sound of Avery’s fingers sluicing through her slickness. The noise alone is almost enough to make me come in my pants. That combined with watching her writhe with wanton pleasure.
‘You fight dirty.’
‘I can be very dirty. Stop fighting me, and I’ll show you.’ The hand that’s not between her legs skims over her breast. I inhale sharply. Watching her get herself off is almost hotter than being the one to get her off. But not quite.
‘You want to tease me? You want me to watch you make yourself come?’ I reach over and rip the material from between her legs. ‘I’m watching.’
The lace is saturated in my hands. My entire body screams at me to mount her like a wild animal, but I can’t. I won’t. Our eyes connect again, hers clouding with her escalating pleasure. Mine fill with wonder at this woman who wields her sexuality like a weapon. I knew she was dangerous. Knew it from the first night I laid eyes on her.
I prop myself on all fours with my face just inches from her pussy. It would be too easy to lick it, suck it or fuck it, but I won’t give into her. Not like this. She increases the pace with her fingers, gliding from her clit to her slit and back again.
‘Don’t even think about coming.’ I warn. ‘You have my attention. So give me a fucking show.’
Her oval eyes gleam and her fingers slow to a stop. ‘Yes, Daddy,’ she purrs, waving her arousal covered fingers in front of my face. I grab them and shove them in my mouth before I can stop myself. She tastes like the most decadent mouth-watering dessert known to man. I suck each finger slowly until there isn’t a drop left.
‘I warned you what happened to the last woman who called me daddy. Get on all fours.’
‘I was hoping you’d say that.’ Her lips curl like the cat who got the cream.
Dirty, dirty girl. She doesn’t hesitate, baring her backside to me like a fucking trophy. Face down, ass up, she is fucking stunning. The urge to swipe my tongue between her open legs is overwhelming, but I refuse to reward her goading behaviour.
What she needs is a spanking.
