As quietly as I can, I sidle up to him, leaving a few feet of space between us. Nothing to see here. Just two people who happen to be reading the same poster at the same time.
“That dress should be illegal,” he whispers, his head still tilted as if he’s studying the picture of the aerial act in front of him. “I take that back. It should be perfectly legal in the privacy of my bedroom. Outside of it, I’d prefer you wrapped in a hooded cloak.”
I lick my bottom lip. “So sad. This dress, with me in it, is about to be plastered all over social media to promote the new poker classes. Evangeline picked it out.”
A growl rumbles from his chest. “Is there no justice in this world? If she must flaunt you for all to see, shouldn’t I, at least, be the first to enjoy you in it, to touch you beneath the material, to… help you out of it?”
My lips twitch. “Who are you to claim first dibs?”
Only his eyes move, but I see him glance in my direction, his emerald gaze twinkling with his regard. “The one who loves you.”
He’s said it to me before, but hearing it now still sends a thrill through me and makes my heart thump in my chest. I know what he wants to hear. There is one thing that Seven needs from me more than anything else, the thing I’ve learned holds his pieces together.
“Be the first then. I’myours, after all. Do with me as you wish.” Aside from his sister, I am the one person in his life who knows him, his true heart, and knowing that I accept him, that I want to be his and want him to be mine is a balm to the wounds his neglectful parents left behind.
His throat bobs on a hard swallow, and his chest rises and falls at a faster rate. “Come.”
His luck coils around me, nudging me to follow him as he turns and strides through an unmarked door near the banquet hall. I check over both shoulders. No one is watching. Of course not. Not with him concentrating his luck to make sure we’re alone.
I duck inside.
Seven’s arm circles my waist, and he pulls me against his chest in the darkness. I hear the lock slide into place, and then the light clicks on. We’re in some kind of utility room, surrounded by shelves of tablecloths, aprons, and cloth napkins. At the back is a stack of folding tables.
I pivot in his arms to face him. “Classy digs, Seven, but I was hoping for a gas station bathroom.”
He gives one breathy laugh, but the heat in his eyes shows me he isn’t in a comedic mood. His expression is ravenous, predatory,feral.
“Are you done modeling for photos today?” he asks, deep and low.
“Yes.” My voice comes out in a squeak, my throat tight from the intensity he’s putting off.
The smile he gives me is positively wolfish. “Good.”
Luck slams into me like an ocean wave I didn’t see coming. Someone has popped the cork on a bottle of champagne and bubbles rush between my legs, through my torso, and to the tips of my breasts. Electric fizz tingles in my blood. My knees wobble but he has me, one hand between my wings and the other in my hair.
When his lips crash down on mine, it isn’t gentle. He’s claiming me with a desperation that tells me exactly how Seven feels about our clandestine circumstances. Leprechauns aren’t used to being denied what they want, and he wants me. All of me.
I melt into him, opening wider for him, his tongue stroking expertly against mine. His thumb braces under my jaw, his fingers wrapped firmly around the base of my skull. The way he’s gripping me is almost painful. Almost. Instead, it makes me feel secure. Safe. And completely turned on.
He shifts me back to the tables and lifts me as if I weigh nothing, perching my bottom on the top of the stack. My dress shifts. Despite hours of staying in place no matter which way I moved, my breasts spill out of the top. He catches one in his mouth, sucking hard. I have to flutter my wings to stay balanced in this position, and I dig my fingers into his hair to steady myself.
“You are so beautiful.” Emerald-green eyes flash in the dim room, and he smiles wickedly at me, breath skating across my nipple. “I saw that photographer kiss you.”
“You were watching me?” Not surprising really. Security cameras record every corner of the casino.
“Only at the end. I wanted to check if you were done.”
“Did it bother you when he kissed me on the cheek?”
He laughs darkly. “Only because I have no way of marking you as mine. I wanted to throw open the doors to that room and make it clear as day that you’re spoken for. Instead, I’ll have to settle for reminding you of the same.”
“How do you plan to do that?” I ask breathlessly.
His hands work under the skirt of my dress, bunching the shiny material around my hips. Adroit fingers hook into the sides of my panties and slide them down my legs. Once they’re off, he brings them to his nose and inhales. My blood heats at the sight, and my breath comes in pants. He slips them into his pocket, then plants his hands on my inner thighs and shoves them apart, exposing me.
“Seven,” I gasp.
He lowers himself to his knees in front of me and licks up my center with the flat of his tongue.
