Chapter 18 Blaine
Chapter eighteen
Blaine
Waking up, I smiled at the sight beside me—my Sunshine, fast asleep.
Hair a wild bird’s nest, lips parted, drool pooling at the corner of her mouth.
Utterly perfect. For a sexy little thing like her, I doubted there’d ever be a position she didn’t look good in.
And even if there was, her laugh and those subpar jokes would still have me crawling right back.
I slipped out of bed, ignoring Killian’s hundredth call buzzing across my phone. Yes, there were meetings this morning. Yes, I was already late. But I had better things to worry about.
Quick shower, clean shave, suit on. Tightening my tie in the mirror, I caught her stirring, blonde hair spilling over her shoulders as she rubbed her eyes. My cock twitched at the sight of her groggy, tousled, mine.
“You’re leaving already…” she mumbled, voice thick with sleep.
I bent down, kissing her nose. “Unfortunately, Sunshine. Someone’s gotta keep an eye on Lucifer.”
She sighed, rolling onto her back, exhausted. “Don’t leave yet…”
Her voice was soft, pleading, testing every ounce of discipline I had. My tie suddenly felt too tight. I straightened, tugging at it to keep myself from crawling back into bed and fucking us both into another late afternoon.
“Despite how dangerously, dangerously close I am to staying, baby, I have to. If I don’t leave, Killian will have my head. He’ll come after me and reveal the little secret that I’ve kept from him, and that can’t seem to get out of bed.”
She didn’t even register the warning, just stretched like a cat, arms overhead, arching her back.
My restraint cracked for a second. Every fucking cell in my body begging me to flip her over and turn her every way but lose.
Bury myself deep in her tight little pussy, make her forget her own damn name— Down, Blaine Jr. Down.
“Be good for Daddy, okay, baby?” The words slipped out before I could stop them.
Her eyes narrowed. “That joke’s getting old.”
I smirked, leaning close enough for her to catch it. “Not the attitude you had bent over the kitchen counter last night.”
She rolled her eyes, turning to her side, presenting me with a perfect view of her ass. Restraint, Romeo. Restraint.
My watch told me I was no longer thirty minutes late—I was three hours late. Killian would be fuming.
“I’ve got another deal tonight. I’ll be back by five. Get up, brush your teeth before then. Can’t be a pillow princess forever.”
She pouted but shooed me off, burrowing back into the sheets like the spoiled goddess she was. As if beauty sleep mattered when she already looked like my sexy little sin.
Walking out of the bedroom, my phone buzzed again as I headed for the door. I sighed, answering the dreaded call.
“You’re late,” Killian barked, no greeting, no pleasantries.
“Good morning to you too, Kiki,” I drawled, deliberately slow just to annoy him.
“Don’t ‘Kiki’ me. You’re already behind schedule, Blaine.”
“And yet the world keeps spinning,” I quipped, stepping into the elevator and leaning against the wall.
There was a long pause on his end. “You have fifteen minutes.”
I closed my eyes, replaying flashes of last night—Maia’s nails down my back, her moans still echoing in my skull. “I’ll be there in ten.”
“Where the hell have you been?” Killian seethed the second I stepped into the office.
I checked my watch casually. “Pretty sure my GPS said I’d be on time.”
“I gave you fifteen minutes. It’s been an hour.”
“An hour? Seems dramatic, Kiki.” Shrugging off my jacket, I draped it over my chair and glanced around the room. “Where’s Brielle?”
His gaze cut away, sharp as glass. “She’s out for the afternoon.”
I smirked. “You? Giving your PA the day off? The same man who terrifies staff for walking in sixty seconds late?”
“Don’t start.”
“But I already have.” I leaned back, stretching. “Face it: you’re going soft.”
His eyes narrowed into knives. “And you’re going broke. Porter Industries has three pending lawsuits, two foreign contracts on the brink of collapse, and a PR nightmare because you couldn’t keep your dick away. One leaked photo, Blaine. One. And already the press is salivating.”
“Don’t get your panties in a twist.” I rolled my eyes, ignoring the way his eyebrows turned upward.
“The lawsuits are probably from Maxwell and some other sorry bastard who felt cheated out of a deal. I have a strong feeling that the foreign contracts on the brink of collapse have to do with our good friend Masahiko lighting a fire under our asses to close a deal. And despite what you think of yourself, I am New York’s most eligible and charming bachelor.
Why I haven’t been cast on The Bachelor is anyone’s guess, but this is typical Blaine weekend activities. ”
Killian stared at me like he was debating murder or throwing me out. Maybe both.
“Sometimes I wonder if your brain is made entirely of bad decisions,” he muttered.
I grinned. “It got me this far. Can’t be all bad.”
“Tonight. Seven o’clock. You’re meeting new investors. You will be there, you will be presentable, and you will keep your dick in your pants for two uninterrupted hours.”
I spread my hands, innocent. “No promises.”
His jaw ticked. “I’m serious, Blaine.”
I leaned back in the chair, lacing my hands behind my head with a sigh. “You know, for someone who isn’t my father, you sure nag like him.”
Killian didn’t even blink. “If I were your father, I’d have cut you off and changed my name by now.”
“Touché.”
He slid a folder across the desk without another word. I stared at it like it might bite before reluctantly sitting up and cracking it open. Investor names, hobbies, talking points, what we needed from each.
I glanced up at him. Poised, collected… but distracted. It’d been years since he fed me a cheat sheet. Usually, his motto was, Pull your head out of your ass and do the research yourself.
I scoffed, flipping a page. “God, you really are going soft, aren’t you?”
Killian didn’t flinch. “You’ve been sloppy. I’m tired of cleaning up after you.”
“You say that like you don’t love it.”
“I don’t.”
“You do.”
“I really don’t.” His glare cut across the desk like a knife.
I smirked, closing the folder halfway. “You’ve never spoon-fed me info this willingly. What’s the catch?”
“One of the men you’ll be meeting… is a wildcard. Dirty money, ties with Lockwood. The only reason he’s relevant is because Calvin trusts him. Goes by Felix Drummond.”
“Name sounds familiar.”
“He’s sitting on cash. Used to dabble in private debt acquisition. Now, he just cleans messes for a price.”
I nodded slowly, rolling the name around in my head. Felix Drummond. Couldn’t place the face, but the name left a bitter taste in my mouth. Probably because Calvin had him on a leash.
Killian’s voice cut in again, crisp. “You don’t need to engage with him directly. Just don’t piss him off. Calvin trusts him, and we need him to trust us more.”
I looked back down at the folder, suddenly less amused. “You sure about this?”
“About you being on time? Not a chance.”
I shot him a glare, and he rolled his eyes. “The deal is locked in. All you need to do is charm, nod, and shut the fuck up when the grown-ups talk. And for the love of God, leave the girl at the hotel.”
I froze, my brain short-circuiting. “What girl?”
He didn’t look up. “Don’t be coy. I have eyes and ears everywhere. The press already spotted you in the hotel lobby with a London bombshell, making you Mr. Worldwide.”
“They’re calling me Pitbull?” I asked, flabbergasted, and he nearly growled.
“The point is this deal needs your full attention. No scandals. No more tabloid photos. And definitely no women making headlines.”
I nodded slowly, like I understood. But inside, my pulse spiked. His tone made it clear—he still didn’t know about my girl. My Sunshine. My secret.
I stood, raking a hand through my hair to cover the fact that I was seconds from spiraling.
“Got it,” I said coolly. “Charm. Nod. Absolutely no engagement with the opposite sex.”
Killian sighed like I was the bane of his existence. “Next time, try to act like you mean what you say.”
I grinned with no regrets. “No promises.”