I slam the door closed.
“Mads?” Felix voice floats from the hall. “Is that you?”
I can’t face him or his weird attempts to flirt with me. Before he can stumble out here, I pull on my shoes, grab my bag, and flee.
5
SETH
Damiano finds a pretty woman to dance with. I think she’s Edmund’s cousin. I watch the two of them sway to the music. Damiano’s having a grand old time.
Me, not so much.
I hate weddings. Every time I attend one, I remember my brother’s. That was six years ago. Fucking hell. What a mistake I thought he and Madison were making. They were so fucking young.
I don’t know if youth was their bigger crime, or the fact they wouldn’t listen to me—the older, wiser brother. “I know what I’m doing, Seth. I love her. Stop trying to be Dad.”
It was a stupid argument. If I’d been Dad, I wouldn’t have cared at all.
Maybe in the end it’s good that they got married. He got to be happy with her for the rest of his life. He only lived for another year, because fuck motorcycles.
Either way, tonight’s wedding has been pretty okay as far as weddings go. Extra points for the whole fairy garden theme, and for holding it outdoors. If I had to suffer through this in some stuffy reception hall, I’d grab the cake knife and stab myself in the chest.
Oh, and extra points for the cookies. I can’t get enough of these things. I’ve probably eaten an entire tray, all on my own. When a server steps out of the catering tent, I sit up and start drooling like Pavlov’s dog. She’s facing away at first, struggling with the canvas door.
“Hurry up,” I mutter under my breath. I dab at the crumbs left on my plate. I could really use another cookie or twenty.
She finally wins her fight with the door, then spins around to face the party, cookie tray held aloft.
Fuck. Me.
She sees me at the same time I see her. Those pouty lips turn down in a frown. Her cheeks were already flushed—probably from her frustration getting out of the tent. Now the blush deepens as her green eyes zero in on my face.
She drops the tray of cookies. She freezes as they cascade to the ground, her lips parted in surprise and dismay. Then she bends down to start picking up the fallen desserts. Several nearby guests jump up to help her collect them.
I remain in my seat. I can’t move. I can’t fucking breathe.
One week ago, I bought her in an auction at Low Vice.
I watched her fuck Damiano because I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Fucking her would be ten thousand shades of wrong. Even though her pert breasts had my mouth watering more than cookies ever will. Even though the sight of her plump lips kissing Damiano drove me insane with lust. Even though her needy sounds echo in my head. Even though I wake up hard every morning after her face has floated in and out of my dreams.
I can’t have her. But I want her so fucking bad.
I won’t do it, though. I won’t pursue her. Not then, not now, not ever.
DAMIANO
She’s here. My beautiful angel. I haven’t been able to put her from my mind, even going so far as to pester Seth for her information. He claims he doesn’t have her number, that he lost it after his brother died. A lie, no doubt. I thought I was going to have to hack his phone.
But now, here she is.
Her black pants fit snugly over her hips and ass. Her white blouse is boring and shapeless, but I know what she looks like beneath the fabric.
I make my excuses to my dance partner.
Half a dozen guests rush to help Madison pick up the cookies she spilled. She blushes and stammers her thanks before straightening to return to the caterer’s tent.
Only to find me, blocking her way.
