Something had snapped inside.
I was no longer the man I’d forced myself to become after Selena’s murder. Cold. Aloof.
Uncaring.
Except for and around my daughter.
Yes, I could fake it with strangers, pretending I gave a damn about them while shaking hands. That was all about the art of doing business. But personally? I couldn’t give a shit about anyone’s thoughts about me or my lifestyle.
I’d even shut the lid on challenges and criticism from my family a long time before.
Yes, I’d fucked beautiful women before. Every man had needs. I’d had a few that had sparked my mind as well as my dick, so we’d talked. We’d fucked.
I’d moved on.
It wasn’t the same with Lainey. Not the same at all.
The woman was breathtaking. Every inch. Every smile. Every soulful glance.
Wanting her was easy.
Tasting her perfection.
Keeping her?
That would prove to be difficult even though I’d already laid claim.
Why?
Because Mikhail was right. There’d been enough people at the party who’d seen our close interactions that any time now, I expected my phone to ring from some ragtag magazine or newspaper demanding a quote regarding my relationship with the pop star. That would add color to the weighted target on her back.
The innate knowledge I’d been taught since I was a small boy screamed that I had no clue what I was doing. That was obvious. My mind was a blur every time a single thought about fucking her sweet pussy sliced through my anger and determination to hunt down the people responsible for ruining the special day.
But here she was, her bottom a perfect shade of blushing crimson, her lips pursed together like a seductive vixen, and her water-stained eyelashes skimming her heated skin.
Seeing the discoloration on her face was enough to tear me apart. The fucker would suffer for what he’d done. There was no one who could stop me.
I pulled the brush handle free and she pressed her body against the granite. When I fisted her hair with one hand, Lainey’s soft purrs kept the fire burning deep within. “Open your mouth, little butterfly.”
She did so without question, her eyelids flitting open just before I skimmed the slickened handle across her lips. Her personality was such she didn’t like giving in easily. The way her tongue darted out as her eyes locked onto mine wasn’t about acquiescing, but about teasing me the same way I’d been doing with her.
There was something special about the fire buried deep inside. I was still disgusted by all those who’d been hired to mold and protect her against the evils of the entertainment business. They’d caged the butterfly, tying her wings. I sensed a rebirth in her awakening even if I believed she was still vulnerable.
When I sliced the wood across her tongue, she moaned and pressed her hand against my chest. Every time she touched me, I was caught off guard even if I was watching her in action. She had a way of tantalizing both my mind and my body.
I slid the handle in another inch and she wrapped her soft lips around the slender invasion. With one hand wrapping around my wrist, she used her strong jaw muscles to suck.
A slow and steady smile crossed my face even as my aching cock reminded me I was close to losing patience, the hunger that significant.
She crawled her fingers down my chest as she slowly shifted her head from side to side. I’d be damned if the woman wasn’t masterful in the act of fellatio. As her expression darkened, I was forced to take a couple of deep breaths for fear of losing it around her.
She’d offered me a gift, trusting me without question and at this moment, I felt as rattled as I had when fearing she’d been hurt or killed. Maybe that was my weakness, the inability to put anything into perspective any longer.
I saw the worst in people. That was something I wholeheartedly believed in, yet here she was, sweet and innocent. Too much so for a man like me.
The ache increased, the hole in my heart still there. Maybe I was incapable of healing. I could swear the woman was able to read my mind. She shifted to gaze upward, locking eyes with mine. Something about her expression caused me to remove the handle, tossing the brush aside.
Taking a single step forward, she pressed both hands against my chest, leaning in as she continued to peer up at me. I wasn’t expecting her reaction to the quiet moment, lowering her head and darting just the tip of her tongue around the tattoo on my chest. As she traced the design, I was frozen in lust and in thought.
