Page 79 of First Verse

I chuckle and wipe my hand over my mouth. “You can hurt me another time, Fairy. Right now you need to eat and drink some tea. Do you want to rinse off?”

Her expression softens and she nods. She releases my hair, her fingertips trailing over my cheek and passing, featherlight, across my lips. Her eyes flicker down to the bulge in my pants.

“Can I return the favor first?”

I shake my head, bending forward to give her pussy a final kiss that makes her twitch. “Later,” I murmur, avoiding her probing eyes as I get to my feet. “I’ll turn on the shower. Is that your bag in the corner?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Pain pinches my chest at her small, disappointed voice, but I keep walking, grabbing her small duffel and heading into the bathroom. The room matches the suite’s aesthetics, all white marble and gleaming gold accents. I crank the dial in the glass-walled shower, leaving my fingers under the flow as it heats up. My other hand lowers to my dick, adjusting it to a more comfortable position.

Do I want a blowjob from Evangeline? Abso-fucking-lutely. But I haven’t let her go down on me. And I can’t explain to her why because it will make me sound like a lunatic. While the thought of her mouth on me is one of my favorite fantasies, the idea of it happening in reality gives me an uneasy feeling. Like the act is beneath her or will diminish her somehow.

There’s another reason, too—at least at the moment. Despite how hard I am, it will take more time than we have for me to climax. Which has absolutely nothing to do with her and everything to do with opiates.

Self-disgust curls through me.

“Did you get my text?”

At Evangeline’s soft voice behind me, I wipe the scowl from my face and turn. My IQ drops a hundred points at the sight of her standing naked before me, her toes curling into a cream-colored bathmat as she spirals her hair into a bun and secures it.

Amusement brightens her eyes. “Hello?”

I don’t lift my gaze from her body. Even her belly button is perfect. There are three small moles under her right breast that remind me of Orion’s belt. I want to lick them. Map them. Make my own constellations on her body with bite marks.

She snaps her fingers in my face, her voice full of laughter as she says, “Focus, Wilder.”

I finally lift my gaze and hear the question she asked. “I didn’t get a text from you. Actually, I was going to ask you the same thing. I called a bunch when I got here, but you didn’t answer, and some jerk security bro wouldn’t let me in the house to look for you.”

“There’s no cell service in here.” She smiles faintly, and the tension I didn’t realize she was carrying vanishes. Unfortunately, that tension transfers right to me.

“You thought I wasn’t coming?” I keep my voice light.Even though I promised?

“No, I knew you’d be here,” she says quickly. Too quickly. “Your intro was a nice surprise, by the way. Thank you. I love you.” Lifting to her toes, she gives me a kiss, then slips past me into the shower. “God, that feels good. Hey, when you make tea, can you use the sachets I brought in my purse? It’s on the couch. Oh, and don’t tell Rye I’ve been talking, okay? He’ll be annoying about it.”

I smile and nod like my gut isn’t churning. Like she didn’t just lie to me. Like I’m not the biggest hypocrite in the world.

The biggest liar of them all.

CHAPTERTHIRTY-ONE

evangeline

After close to an hour of networking at Anita’s side, meeting dozens of people whose names and faces all blur together, she finally releases us to mingle on our own. Lily immediately vanishes toward where we last saw Rye, leaving me standing alone at the end of a buffet table of picked-over hors d’oeuvres.

Exhaustion creeps over me as I scan the dwindling crowd for Wilder. I don’t see him, which isn’t much of a surprise. After Jax and Eddie left a little past ten, he probably found somewhere dark and quiet to chill until I’m ready to leave. I couldn’t be more ready, but before setting us free, Anita politely ordered us tomake ourselves availablefor another twenty minutes.

“You look like you could use this,” says a voice to my right.

Forcing a pleasant expression onto my tired face, I turn to find a man holding two glasses of white wine, one of them extended my way. He’s handsome in a men’s-cologne-ad way, with light brown hair, an easy smile, and hazel eyes. The starched white collar of his dress shirt gapes open, framing a swath of tanned skin. Despite an air of casualness, he reeks of wealth, from his shoes and watch to the suit he’s wearing, which fits too well for it not to be hand tailored. While he looks vaguely familiar, I’m positive Anita didn’t introduce me to him tonight.

As good as a glass of wine sounds, and as much as he doesn’tlooklike a creep, there’s no way I’m taking an unsealed drink from a stranger.

“Thank you, but I’ll pass.” Mindful of the fact I have to play nice, I soften the rejection with a smile I hope looks real. “Wine will only put me to sleep at this point.”

He nods sagely and sets the glasses on the buffet table. “Coffee then,” he says, offering me his arm. “Shall we?”

Irritation flashes in me. My gaze flickers around us in a futile search for a reason to refuse and snags on Anita. She’s standing about ten feet away and looking right at me. For a second, I think she’s going to rescue me. Then she stabs a finger toward my companion and mouths, “Talk to him.”

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