He pulls a pleading face and puts his hands together. “You can’t take me to Foxleigh, can you? I left my car there the other day.”
“Sure, jump in.” It’s in the opposite direction, and I don’t really have time, but since Miles has helped me with one of my problems, I can help him. “Give me one second.”
Pulling out my phone, I shoot off a message to Story.
HENDRICKS: Meet me at Bluebell at 10? Clothing optional, door will be open.
STORY: Why, Lord Burlington, is this a booty call?
HENDRICKS: Call it what you want, but for clarification purposes, we’re fucking tonight.
STORY:
I’m still grinning by the time we drive out of the farmyard gates when he turns to me. “You didn’t hear anything about Torres at the charity game on Saturday, did you?”
Fuck. My grin dies, and my fists tighten a fraction on the steering wheel. Guilt and anxiety turn up the volume on the party they’ve been having in my belly since Saturday.
“I overheard Lydia talking about it. But I don’t know what it was based on.” There, facts, and I didn’t lie.
Yeah, keep telling yourself that.
“That fucker. How dare he? What the fuck does he think he’s playing at?”
Here Icantell the truth. “No fucking idea. I think he wants to be as destructive as possible.”
Miles sits in silence, his eyes on the country lane in front of us. “I found out that groom is working the summer season in Aspen. I’ve decided I’m going over there.”
“To do what?”
He shrugs. “Not sure yet. At the very least, get some intel I can use against Torres. I bought a new pony last week after I discovered it was one he had an eye on. Best-case scenario, I ruin his career like he almost ruined mine. I’m not stopping until he’s barred from the circuit and resorts to teaching American rich kids with daddy issues how to ride a horse.”
The venom in Miles’s voice grates on me exactly how nails on a chalkboard would. I don’t blame him one bit, either. In fact, I’ll join his thirst for blood. But I have a lot to do before I get to that point on my list of shit I have to deal with.
Pulling through the Foxleigh gates, I spot Miles’sred Ferrari in his usual space and stop next to it.
“Thanks, Hen.” He moves to slam the door, then opens it again. “I forgot to ask, have you heard from Sienna yet?”
I shake my head.
One fucking problem at a time.
Iget through the rest of my day thinking about nothing except seeing Story.
I don’t hear from Sienna, and I don’t see Clementine beyond a rushed passing of each other when I get home from collecting Max. It only confirms she’s definitely avoiding me.
I take my time reading Max his bedtime stories, and I follow with a long shower. The clock strikes ten o’clock, and the house is quiet when I walk down the main stairs and leave without telling a single soul I’m going out. Except Birgitta, in case Max wakes.
It takes seven minutes to arrive at Bluebell and another thirty seconds to walk up the path. My dick throbs with every step.
And then Story opens the door wearing absolutely nothing.
My heart stalls. My jeans become painfully tight. Without giving her the chance to say a word before my mouth is on hers, I kick the door shut behind me and scoop her into my arms.
Her nails scrape through my hair, legs locking around my hips as I pin her against the wall. Her groan tumbles down my throat, chased by the words, “fuck,yes.”
Once more I’m wondering what happened to the girl I used to run through the fields and roll down the hill with. But then I remember I’ve spent the day fantasizing about her riding my cock.
My palms grip her ass as I press into her, fingers digging into her soft flesh.
