Too intertwined, too real.
“Whatever. See you around.” I’m intent to turn and leave, but he takes my head in both his hands and presses his forehead to mine, stopping me.
“Give me half a chance, Sparkle, and I’llsuffocateyou with my love,” he whispers, his eyes boring into mine. “I thought leaving you be for a few days was a good idea. People can take me in small doses, like hot sauce or rollercoasters. I’m a lot, and sooner or later, I’m too much for most people. I guess I was hoping to delay the inevitable by holding back just a little, but I promise I’ll never do that to you again. You can have me whole, unfiltered, every second of every minute of every hour. Until you kick me out because you’ve had enough.”
Shivers skitter down my spine as longing, annoyance, desire, and something close to fear barrage me. I’m too on edge, the tension from seeing him again, the nerves of what I’m about to do, and the fact that I can’t even have a damn drink to calm myself. It’s too fucking much.
I need someone on my side for this.
And I still think of him as the closest thing I have to a friend right now.
“Watch out. I’ll make a grown man pinky promise me.”
He grins, reaching out to hook his pinky onto mine, pulling our hands up between us. Then he presses a gentle kiss to our joined fingers. “I pinky promise that I’ll be there as long as you’ll let me. I’m your person.”
There’s so much in his gaze that it makes my heart twist in a way I don’t want to admit, so I deflect in the only way I know how. “When I’m done here, I’ll need something to take the edge off.”
He tilts his head, a hopeful glimmer in his eyes. “What are you saying, Sparkle?”
“I’m saying…” I reach up to let my fingernail glide over the slither of skin above the waistband of his jeans, “… when I’m done here, I’m going to celebrate and drink with Levi. Then I’m going home, and I’m going to sleep. And when I wake up, I want to have either your dick deep inside me or your cum running out of me.”
His eyes widen, and I see the way they darken, his pupils dilating, but still, he asks, “Are you sure? Maybe you’ll be drinking too much or?—”
“I give you my sober consent right now to fuck me while I’m drunk and or asleep tonight.”
“Holy fucking shit.” His breath catches, and I swear I can practically see how hard my promise has made him.
I bite my lip to hide the smile that forms as I watch his reaction. “For now, I need to do my job. And I can’t flirt my way into Nicholas’s pants if you hang on my ass all night.”
He nods and even bounces lightly on the balls of his feet like an eager puppy wanting to please.
I flash him one last smile and turn away, slipping into the crowd. The band starts a new piece, the brass instruments humming softly in the background, mingling with laughter and conversation as I make my way along the exhibits, my gazedrifting over the artifacts. But even as I search for Nicholas, I feel the bubbly giddiness of having Hottie back.
Sylus.
God, I’m so fucked.
Soon enough, I spot Nicholas across the room, surrounded by a group of beautiful women, each seemingly vying for his attention, but I get it.
When I look at his face, I want to sit on something, too, and it’s not a chair.
Taking a glass of champagne from a passing server, I almost automatically bring it to my lips, then remember Koen’s coercion. Lowering the glass with a sigh, I listen to the bubbles fizz as I watch Harrington.
His posture is rigid, shoulders squared in an attempt to look confident, but there is a tension in his jawline, the way his eyes dart around, never settling on any one person for too long.
Oh, Levi. You’re way fucking off.
Nicholas is not a narcissist.
His polite smile is practiced, smooth but empty, like he’s playing a part.
He’d make an incredible stripper.
I’m so focused on watching his every move that I almost jump when an older woman spills the contents of her purse out across the floor next to Nicholas and his hangers-on. Lipstick, tissues, and a few coins scatter across the patterned tile. Everything freezes, the people around her staring, rigid as statues.
Except for Nicholas.
He doesn’t hesitate, his expression soft as he kneels without a second thought. There’s no flourish, no need for attention as he helps her gather her things—a simple act of kindness.
