“Don’t worry,” Dagen says, cutting off my question. “You’re protected. The gears are turning. Tomorrow morning, there will be billboards all around the city with Ric’s picture on it detailing what he’s done. The files have been sent to the proper authorities since the video was revealed at the gala. Things will go exactly as planned. Trust me.”
“And you think he’ll just stop?” I ask hopefully. “That he’ll give up chasing us down after all that?”
No one answers, their eyes meeting each other’s rather than mine, and my anxiety skyrockets. They’re not telling me something, and they clearly don’t believe Ric will stop. What was I thinking about cornered dogs again?
“You’re safe,” Dagen repeats. “That’s all that matters.”
My fingers wring in my lap, an attempt to calm my frazzled nerves. So much has happened. Ric’s societal downfall feels sweet, but I’m not overly concerned with his feelings on the matter or my own. The most important thing is that Elsie is safe, and Ric leaves us alone for good. I could care less about anything else, even if revenge does feel. . . nice.
The rest of the limo ride is quiet except for Wylan singing a little jingle under his breath. I don’t recognize the tune, but the longer the ride takes, the more he sprawls out on the bench seat, his eyes growing more heated with every mile as he looks at me. I’m worried about Ric, so at first, my anxiety controls my actions, forcing me to look outside rather than at the man clearly imagining eating me up in this red dress. But the longer the ride takes, the more attuned I become to his attention, until I’m shifting in my seat in an attempt to release the tension between my legs.
“We’re here,” Dagen announces as the limo pulls up outside my house. He opens the door and slides out.
Felix moves to follow him, his laptop under his arm still, his eyes soft on me. When I move to slide out after him, Wylan’s hand shoots out and grabs my knee, stopping me.
“Not quite yet, crumpet,” he says to me, before looking out the open door at Wylan. “You don’t mind if we take the limo around the block a few times, do you, Foxxie?”
Dagen looks between Wylan and me. “If Ava is comfortable with that, then it’s fine.”
I nod my head, my eyes flickering nervously to Wylan. “I’m okay.”
Dagen nods and steps back before closing the door. They immediately lock again before John pulls away from the curb.
“Just keep going around the block until I say otherwise, yeah,” Wylan tells John before he pushes the button for the privacy wall. It goes up slowly, achingly slow, until it closes completely. Wylan and I are alone, on separate sides of the limo, his eyes on fire as he looks at me. “What’s the matter?” he purrs as my hands start to wring together again. “Do I scare you?”
I shake my head. “I’m not scared of you.”
“Pity,” he laughs. “Fear adds an element in fucking that’s hard to not enjoy.” He cocks his head and studies me. “Come here, Ava.”
“The car’s moving,” I argue, pointing to my stilettos. “I can’t just move.”
“Then crawl,” he growls. His tone leaves no room for argument.
I hesitate, mostly because I’ve never had a man be both so infuriating and so sexy at the same time. I’m tempted to decline, to refuse to lower myself before this man, but another part of me. . . really wants to. I can’t explain it. Wylan is all mystery, all shadows and secrets, and fuck if I don’t want to dive deep into them.
My eyes on his, I slowly slide off the car seat onto my knees in the large expanse of floor between the seats. His cock jumps to life in his pants, straining against his zipper, begging for attention as I begin to crawl toward him.
“That’s it, love,” he encourages. “You look so good when you obey.”
Some part of me revolts against this, but I understand it’s a game. If I were truly uncomfortable and didn’t want to do this, Wylan wouldn’t force me. Despite how it looks, I’m completely in control here, and that thought is what makes me move. I keep my eyes on his, making sure I see every reaction, every twitch of his face, as I move. The car hits a bump, but because I’m so low to the floor, it doesn’t throw me. It only takes a few seconds to cross the distance between the seats, but it feels like a lifetime. A lifetime of waiting for this man to show me this side of him.
I lean up on my knees, bracing myself on his thighs as I look up into his eyes. “Is this what you wanted?” I ask.
His hand snaps out and grabs a fistful of my hair, holding tight enough to make me gasp in pain. “We haven’t even scratched the surface of what I want from you, crumpet,” he warns. “Before we begin, we should get a few things straight.”
“Okay,” I rasp, my hands clenching tightly in his thighs. “What things?”
“I’m a ghost,” he answers. “I don’t exist in your world. Not really. I can’t give you a lot of things, and you shouldn’t expect them from me. As far as this all goes, I might as well be fictional. Do you understand?”
I nod. “I understand.”
“I have no roots,” he continues. “I may be here now because the pay is good, but I don’t grow roots. I’m incapable of it. We’re going to fuck, but no matter how good this pussy is, I won’t stay. I never do.”
I swallow thickly, his words making my chest squeeze. “I never assumed I’d be good enough to make you stay, Wylan.”
His eyes darken. “See, now you’ve confused my words.” His fingers tighten in my hair, and I let out a sound of discomfort that immediately has his hold softening. “I never said you weren’t worth staying for. I only said I’m incapable of it.”
“Okay,” I breathe. “Okay.”
