Hands roam.Moans mingle.I grind the heel of my hand over the nub between her thighs, the friction maddening—delicious.
And then?—
The limo slows.
We freeze.
The car stops.
The driver’s voice slices through the heated haze.“We’ve arrived, Mr.Sterling.”
Sage pulls back, her lipstick smudged, her hair thoroughly messed.
She looks debauched and perfect and utterly fuckable.
"I should go," she says, not moving.
"You should."
"Early morning."
"Inn responsibilities."
"Right."She straightens her dress with shaking hands."This was..."
"Efficient?"I suggest.
She laughs, bright and sudden."So efficient."
"The most efficient gala attendance in history."
"We should put it in the SafeStay marketing materials."She reaches for the door handle, then pauses."Luke?Thank you.For tonight.For all of it."
Before I can respond, she's out of the car and hurrying up the inn steps, wobbling slightly in her heels.
She pauses at the door, looking back, and even from here I can see her smile.
Then she's gone, and I'm alone in the back of a limo with smudged lipstick on my collar and the taste of extraordinary on my lips.
"Back to the city, Mr.Sterling?"the driver asks.
"Yes," I say, already knowing I won't sleep tonight."Back to the city."
As we drive away, I touch my lips, still feeling the phantom pressure of hers.
My phone buzzes with a text from Connor.
Grandmother says Sage is perfect for you.I agree.Stop being an idiot.
For once, I don't argue.
13
BACKSEAT DRIVER
SAGE
It's Sunday evening, three days after I attacked Luke Sterling's mouth in the back of a limo like a woman possessed, and I'm sitting in my Honda outside my parents' Wallingford home, giving myself the world's most pathetic pep talk.
