My hand glides up into her curls and tugs, bringing her closer to me until my lips collide with hers like the train wreck that has been this entire night. Her lips yield against mine as her hand clutches my thigh to steady herself.
Her other hand grips my tie and tugs. Like a dog on a leash, I’m happy to obey and kiss her with a fierceness and madness that’s been building like an orgasm all night. Murder and auctions and oral were all fucking foreplay for this kiss. Desperation hums between us.
Daphne’s hand glides over my thighs until she cups my cock. The pressure makes me groan into her mouth and my tongue parts her lips. God, I can still taste the champagne on her lips, and Dom Peri-however-the-fuck -you-say-it never tasted so sweet.
She gasps against my kiss before her tongue coasts along mine and a whimper escapes her throat.
And I pull back, breaking the kiss and releasing her hair as we’re panting in the dark. Reality slips into place like an unwelcome backseat driver. The stolen car. Brent. Her parents. My secrets.
It’s too damn tempting to kiss her again until reality vanishes under the magic of her lips, but I lean away from her. The temptation’s too damn strong.
“You, Daphne Fox, might be the death of me one day. But I’d die with a fucking smile on my face.” I struggle to catch my breath, and I adjust my erection before settling back into the driver’s seat. I force myself to look at the road ahead of us, cars whizzing past.
I need to get us out of here before I fuck her in this car on the side of the road. If I ever get the chance, it’ll be in my own damn car, not one I have to return.
I clear my throat and turn to her.
Her eyes shine with unsatiated hunger, and my God, she’s fucking gorgeous, with her kiss-bruised lips and cheeks so flushed I can see patches of pink beneath her smudged makeup.
“What we did in that ballroom wasn’tfun, Princess. Don’t cheapen another moment like that again. If you do, I will tie you up by your ankles and show you what I do for fun.”
I turn on the engine and punch it, merging back into the flow of traffic. The silence is heavy between us, and I can almost hear gears turning in her mind as she overthinks every word I’ve said.
Good. Let her think until she concludes that I meant it. She’s a treasure, a rare gem that should be appreciated and cherished the way she deserves.
I want to rip the heads off every person who ever made her feel inferior. Anyone who ever used her. Mount them on spikes on her front lawn like Vlad the Impaler and let the world know who they’re dealing with.
All too soon, I’m parking the car in her driveway. I get out and walk around to open her door.
A set of headlights pulls up directly behind my car as I offer Daphne my hand. A Secret Service agent dressed in a dark suit steps out of the car, his eyes locked onto me like missile targets.
How long had he been following us? Does he know the car’s stolen? Did he see our display back on the highway?
He doesn’t move though, or say anything. Only watches.
It’s strange seeing Secret Service around here. Daphne’s lack of security made my life a hundred times easier, but until Ghost_M110 is completely gone,I’m glad she finally has some security watching her back.
I offer her my hand, and she takes it before settling herself in her tall heels onto the ground. Her gaze flicks to the agent and she offers him a small wave.
He doesn’t wave back. Rude.
“Do you want to come in?” she offers to me.
Fuck yes. God no. The thought of what might happen if I go inside, what that could lead to, has my cock stiffening harder down my pant leg. But the thought of the Secret Service outside? What if they have to station themselves inside somewhere? What if they hear Daphne moaning my name? What if they check the license on the car?
No, I’m not ready to blow my cover to the Secret Service.
“Not tonight.” I take her hand and raise it to my lips. “Get some sleep. And give our little fluff ball a scratch behind the ears for me.” I give her a smile she doesn’t match as her shoulders slump in disappointment. She strolls up to her front door while pulling her keys from her purse. But she runs back down the steps like Cinderella in her ballgown and closes the gap between us.
“I need to know,” she whispers so the agent can’t overhear. “If you hate my dad, why did you pay so much for me?”
“Because you’re worth it, Daphne.”
She rewards me with a soft smile that has something in my chest soaring high. I don’t spoil the moment by admitting that I paid for the auction with money stolen from the President’s campaign account. I simply returned what I borrowed for the evening.
She tilts her head up and presses a gentle kiss on my cheek. Then she dashes back up to her front door and unlocks it. Once she’s safely inside, I get back in the car andpull away. I check my rearview mirror frequently, but no Secret Service tail me.
I need to return the Porsche to its rightful owner tonight.
