Eventually, I stand and offer my hand. "Come on, sweetheart. Time to get you upstairs before I do something reckless right here in front of everyone."
She laughs for just a second; I see a challenge awaken in her eyes, but she pushes it back down and takes my hand. She's a bit unsteady in her heels and leans heavily onto my arm. I take her waist all too gladly and guide her back to the elevator. The ride up is pure torture.
The second the doors close, she sways. I catch her instantly, both hands on her waist, steadying her against my body. She's warm. Soft. Perfect.
"I'm a bit tipsy," she admits, cheeks flushed. "But in my defense… I haven't really drunk anything in years. So I just need to build my immunity back up."
I laugh—rich, deep, delighted—and cup her jaw, tilting her face up to mine. "I'm enjoying the hell out of watching you try."
Her eyes drop to my mouth. The air crackles. I'm so hard it hurts, and she has to feel it pressing against her stomach. I want to pin her to the elevator wall and take her right here, but I force myself to wait. Barely.
Back in the penthouse, I escort her down the hall like she's both precious and breakable. At the door to her suite, she stops and turns to me.
"Thank you," she whispers, voice soft. "For everything tonight."
Then she rises onto her tiptoes and kisses me. The world stops. Her lips are warm, hesitant, tasting like tequila and courage andher. For half a second, I'm frozen, stunned that she made the first move.
Then the leash I've been clinging to for weeks snaps clean in half.
I growl—low, feral, broken—and fist my hand in her hair, yanking her hard against me. My other arm bands around her waist like steel as I devour her mouth. No softness. No restraint. I kiss her like a man who's been starving for months. Tongue sliding deep, teeth grazing her lip, claiming every inch of her mouth like I've wanted to since the moment I laid eyes on her.
Audra moans into me, her fingers curling tight into my shirt, pulling me closer. The sound shoots straight to my cock. I press her back against the door, grinding my hips into hers so she can feel exactly how badly I need her. How long I've been suffering.
"Fuck, Audra," I rasp against her swollen lips, my voice wrecked. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?"
She doesn't answer with words. She kisses me harder, pouring every conflicted, guilty, aching emotion into it. I taste the guilt. I taste the war inside her. And it only makes me hungrier. Because she's still choosing this. Choosingme.
My hand slides down, gripping her ass possessively, lifting her until she's on her toes, her body flush against mine. I drag my mouth to her jaw, her throat, sucking a dark mark right below her ear. Mine. The whole fucking world can see it tomorrow.
She gasps my name, trembling. I pull back just enough to look at her, eyes black with lust, chest heaving, forehead pressed to hers.
"Tell me to stop," I growl, the words tearing out of me like they physically hurt. "Tell me right now, because once I take you inside that room… I won't be gentle. And I won't let you go."
Her breath shudders. I see the storm in her eyes—guilt, desire, fear, need—all of it crashing together.
And then she says the words that might as well have been a bullet; they hit with the same intensity. "Please stop."
A few days later…
I'm walking a fine line. I know it. Every move, every decision, it all has to be calculated. Audra doesn't sit still well. Not anymore. Maybe she never did. And if I leave her with too much time, too much space, she'll start thinking. About us. About the kiss. Even though she has nothing to feel guilty about, I know she does. She lets other people dictate her feelings too much. That's one thing she'll learn quickly in my world. How to not give a shit what other people think. It's amazing how free—and a lot less guilty—you feel once you can let go of that.
We haven't talked about the kiss. Or that night. Whenever our eyes meet, Audra averts her gaze. I'm willing to let her decide when she's ready to address it, but my patience only lasts so long.
So I keep her occupied. Busy. Contained without making it feel like a cage. Or I try to. Her mom has been an unwitting big help with that. For the last two days, she's done half the work for me. The woman is… exhausting. But useful. She needed Audra's help to trim her cats' claws. She also needed special food and toys for them. Apparently, those animals require more attention than most people I know.
Fine. If it keeps Audra distracted, I'll buy them a damn kingdom. I handed her my card and told her to order whatever she needed. I didn't think twice about it. Didn't even set a limit. There was a glint in her eyes.
"Oh, you're going to so regret this," she warned me.
I almost smiled. Still might. I hadn't intended to check the damage. I didn't care enough to. If she thought that would get a reaction out of me, she underestimated the wrong man. But my accountant called me, because apparently, one hundred and fifty grand at a pet store is enough to warrant a call.
One hundred and fifty thousand dollars. At a pet store. I don't even know how that's possible. But it amused me. Let herpush. Let her test boundaries. She needs to feel like she has some control. Even if it's manufactured. Even if I'm the one allowing it.
I lean back in my chair, staring out over the city. Massimo called a meeting in a few hours. Which means we're moving forward. Finally. One of the guys will be making contact with the Collector. That alone tightens something in my chest.
I don't like it. Don't like sending anyone into something I can't fully see. And I definitely don't like the timing. Not with Audra here. Not with everything starting to connect in ways I don't trust. My jaw shifts slightly. Because this isn't just business. Not anymore. Not when she's in it. Whether she understands that or not. Whether I like it or not.
A text from Mauro interrupts me. It's just a photo, nothing more. But it's the eyes in that photo that make my blood curl. Fuck. The same eyes as Alessio. I can only pray that she's not the same woman Audra saw as I make my way back into the primary penthouse area, where I find the lady of my thoughts sorting through a box of cat toys, a wicked grin on her face. She has no idea how much I want to devour those lips. No idea how thin the thread is I'm holding on to, how hard it is for me not to claim her completely as mine.
