Chapter 22 #2
Fuck, this is becoming more complicated by the second.
Too intertwined, too real.
“Whatever. See you around.” I’m intent to turn and leave, but he takes my head in both his hands and presses his forehead to mine, stopping me.
“Give me half a chance, Sparkle, and I’ll suffocate you with my love,” he whispers, his eyes boring into mine.
“I thought leaving you be for a few days was a good idea. People can take me in small doses, like hot sauce or rollercoasters. I’m a lot, and sooner or later, I’m too much for most people.
I guess I was hoping to delay the inevitable by holding back just a little, but I promise I’ll never do that to you again.
You can have me whole, unfiltered, every second of every minute of every hour.
Until you kick me out because you’ve had enough. ”
Shivers skitter down my spine as longing, annoyance, desire, and something close to fear barrage me. I’m too on edge, the tension from seeing him again, the nerves of what I’m about to do, and the fact that I can’t even have a damn drink to calm myself. It’s too fucking much.
I need someone on my side for this.
And I still think of him as the closest thing I have to a friend right now.
“Watch out. I’ll make a grown man pinky promise me.”
He grins, reaching out to hook his pinky onto mine, pulling our hands up between us. Then he presses a gentle kiss to our joined fingers. “I pinky promise that I’ll be there as long as you’ll let me. I’m your person.”
There’s so much in his gaze that it makes my heart twist in a way I don’t want to admit, so I deflect in the only way I know how. “When I’m done here, I’ll need something to take the edge off.”
He tilts his head, a hopeful glimmer in his eyes. “What are you saying, Sparkle?”
“I’m saying…” I reach up to let my fingernail glide over the slither of skin above the waistband of his jeans, “… when I’m done here, I’m going to celebrate and drink with Levi.
Then I’m going home, and I’m going to sleep.
And when I wake up, I want to have either your dick deep inside me or your cum running out of me. ”
His eyes widen, and I see the way they darken, his pupils dilating, but still, he asks, “Are you sure? Maybe you’ll be drinking too much or—”
“I give you my sober consent right now to fuck me while I’m drunk and or asleep tonight.”
“Holy fucking shit.” His breath catches, and I swear I can practically see how hard my promise has made him.
I bite my lip to hide the smile that forms as I watch his reaction. “For now, I need to do my job. And I can’t flirt my way into Nicholas’s pants if you hang on my ass all night.”
He nods and even bounces lightly on the balls of his feet like an eager puppy wanting to please.
I flash him one last smile and turn away, slipping into the crowd.
The band starts a new piece, the brass instruments humming softly in the background, mingling with laughter and conversation as I make my way along the exhibits, my gaze drifting over the artifacts.
But even as I search for Nicholas, I feel the bubbly giddiness of having Hottie back.
Sylus.
God, I’m so fucked.
Soon enough, I spot Nicholas across the room, surrounded by a group of beautiful women, each seemingly vying for his attention, but I get it.
When I look at his face, I want to sit on something, too, and it’s not a chair.
Taking a glass of champagne from a passing server, I almost automatically bring it to my lips, then remember Koen’s coercion. Lowering the glass with a sigh, I listen to the bubbles fizz as I watch Harrington.
His posture is rigid, shoulders squared in an attempt to look confident, but there is a tension in his jawline, the way his eyes dart around, never settling on any one person for too long.
Oh, Levi. You’re way fucking off.
Nicholas is not a narcissist.
His polite smile is practiced, smooth but empty, like he’s playing a part.
He’d make an incredible stripper.
I’m so focused on watching his every move that I almost jump when an older woman spills the contents of her purse out across the floor next to Nicholas and his hangers-on.
Lipstick, tissues, and a few coins scatter across the patterned tile.
Everything freezes, the people around her staring, rigid as statues.
Except for Nicholas.
He doesn’t hesitate, his expression soft as he kneels without a second thought. There’s no flourish, no need for attention as he helps her gather her things—a simple act of kindness.
The older woman smiles gratefully, and Nicholas looks up at her, meeting her gaze directly as he smiles back. This smile is different.
Gone is the carefully constructed mask he’s worn for everyone else thus far.
This smile is genuine and almost shy. And in that moment, I forget why I’m even watching him.
I just do. I’m compelled by that quick glimpse into who he really is, but eventually, the mask comes back up, and the bored facade returns as he stands and rejoins the conversation with the women around him.
Fuck.
What Levi wants me to do would never work with him. I’d be another one of the women now trying to get his attention. He wouldn’t bite the way I’d need him to.
He has to be the one who notices me.
I mull over how the hell I could make this happen as I continue scanning the room, searching for my other mark, Richard Belmont. He’s deep in conversation with none other than Nicholas’s mother, Veronica Harrington.
I’ve heard her name and seen her picture countless times, but I never knew she had a son. It only reinforces my theory that Nicholas is more reserved and maybe prefers to stay out of the limelight.
Belmont is too deep in conversation for me to make a move now.
I need him alone, away from Veronica and prying eyes.
So I decide to leave them be for now and move closer to Nicholas instead, positioning myself close enough to be in his line of sight but not so close that I seem obvious.
I stop next to a display case featuring an old magician’s top hat, pretending to be engrossed in the artifact as I keep Nicholas in my peripheral vision.
I feel eyes on me, and when I glance over my shoulder, Nicholas is watching me.
I hold his gaze for a few seconds before looking away, letting a hint of a shy smile play on my lips as I shift my attention back to the display.
I move slowly to the next exhibit, letting my presence linger.
I casually glance in his direction to find that he’s still looking, his gaze curious.
Gotcha.
Turning away from him, I make my way through the room again when Veronica walks past me and approaches Nicholas, who doesn’t look pleased.
With her now otherwise occupied, I turn my attention to my other mark. He’s alone at the bar now, and I watch as he reaches into his pocket for his wallet. It’s then I notice the unmistakable hotel card from the Belmont Plaza on top of his other cards.
The bartender waves him off, and he slides the wallet back into his jacket as I approach the bar, positioning myself close to him. Belmont turns, his eyes meeting mine, and there’s a flicker of recognition. His brows raise, and he breathes out, “You?”
“Me,” I reply, letting a slow smile spread across my face as I set down my still-full glass of champagne.
“You didn’t call.” His gaze travels over me as if making sure I’m real.
I tilt my head, arching a brow. “I’ll call you when I want to call you,” I say quietly but firmly, dripping with authority. He visibly swallows, his eyes darkening as his submissive nature creeps back in.
“Right,” he mutters, almost to himself.
I let my fingers brush over his arm, trailing down slowly until they reach his wrist, then slipping lower into the pocket of his jacket. He freezes, his gaze never leaving mine, entranced as I draw closer.
“What are you drinking tonight, Richard?” I purr, my eyes still locked on his, while my other hand moves, locating his wallet.
“Whiskey,” he breathes out, his gaze dipping to my lips, and it’s obvious he’s struggling to keep his composure.
“Good… choice.” I smile, letting my thumb brush along his jawline as I pull the wallet out, keeping it hidden between our bodies. He’s too focused on the way I’m touching him to notice.
Sliding the wallet open, I slip the hotel card out with ease and place the wallet back where it belongs. All the while, I’m watching his reaction, the way his pupils are blown wide, his breathing uneven, while I’m still stroking his jaw. He shivers, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard.
When I’m palming the card, I lean in, my lips brushing against the shell of his ear. “What if I want to be the one being chased?” I whisper, knowing that my words just made me undesirable to him. I lean back, giving him a polite smile. “Have a nice evening, Richard.”
He blinks, the fire in his eyes dimming, confusion flickering across his features.
Good.
Without waiting for a response, I turn and walk away, leaving him standing there, bewildered.
I slip into one of the exhibition rooms, a smaller one to the side, empty of people.
The quiet is a relief, and I finally exhale while I take out my phone, snap a picture of the card, and send it to Captain Bossy.
Is that what you were after?
Captain Bossy
Told you you’ve got it.
Who do you want me to plant it on?
You’ve already wrapped Harrington around your finger?
I’m on it.
Tell me when you’re sure you’ve hooked him.
Then you’ll get the next mark.
I slip the card and my phone into my purse, taking a deep breath.
You heard him, Nova. Just get it over with.
I push down the nerves twisting in my stomach and turn to leave the exhibition room, only to almost collide with Belmont. He’s standing right in the exit, blocking my path.
Fuck. Did he already realize where his card went?
“What are you doing, Richard?” I force a smile despite my heart pounding so hard it feels like it’s trying to escape my chest.