Chapter 32
MYA
My phone screen goes dark, but the last message burns hotter than the champagne in my veins.
My insides twist, heat curling low in my belly.
Worth is so damn possessive, so bossy—and the worst part is, I kind of love it.
He talks like I already belong to him, like this all isn’t just for show.
Even if it’s fake and temporary, tomorrow, I’ll be his wife.
The word feels dangerous on my tongue, and my chest tightens at the thought of being tethered to him in any way.
“Okay, spill,” Tiana says, sliding a stack of shopping bags across the seat of the car. “What did Worth say?”
I bite down a smile and shrug, playing it cool. “He approved everything. Our plan to piss him off didn’t work.”
Tiana smirks. “It didn’t work because he’s down bad.”
“He is not down bad. He’s just playing the part.”
Her grin widens. “Uh huh. Sure. ‘Playing the part’ while dropping a million euros on you without blinking.”
I roll my eyes, but my cheeks heat. “You’re delusional.”
“You’re in denial.”
I open my mouth to argue, but my sister waves me off, steering the conversation elsewhere. “Anyway, enough about your broody billionaire. Let’s talk about me.”
I perk up, curious. “Right. Your time as Sylas’s new nanny. How is it?”
Her expression softens, surprising me. “It’s good. Honestly. I love Sylas. He’s such a good kid. Smart, sweet, funny. He’s got this way of looking at you like you’re the most important person in the room. Kind of breaks your heart, in the best way.”
I smile at that.
“But Griffin?” She shakes her head, laughing under her breath. “He’s like a volcano about to erupt every time I’m around him. One wrong look, one smart comment, and I swear he’s seconds from exploding.”
“Seriously?” I blink, surprised.
“Seriously, it makes no sense. I don’t know what his deal is, but it’s entertaining as hell, so I keep egging him on.” Her grin is wicked. “He’s so grumpy, it’s like a challenge.”
I laugh. “That’s wild. He’s the complete opposite with me at work.”
Tiana tilts her head. “I guess I bring out his inner monster.”
I shake my head, still laughing.
The Parisian night air is cool against my overheated skin through the window, and for a minute, I stare down the street in a daze.
I bought a ridiculously expensive wedding dress. One I’d sworn I wouldn’t let myself want. And somehow, they’re going to alter it by tomorrow.
The gown is breathtaking—too breathtaking for a fake elopement. It’s the kind of dress I used to dream about when I was a teenager, scrolling Pinterest. The kind of dress you wear once in your life, if you’re lucky. The second I saw it, I just couldn’t help myself. I had to have it.
The Cartier diamonds and the opera singer and string quartet were just extras. Add-ons to push Worth’s buttons. Except, judging from his texts, it didn’t even work. If anything, he seemed happy that I was spending his money.
Tiana loops her arm through mine in the back seat, dragging me out of my spiraling thoughts. “Okay, Mrs. Black Card. We’ve shopped, we’ve conquered. Now it’s time for dinner.”
“Where?” I ask, still distracted by the vision of my dream dress.
Her grin is mischievous. “Remember that place we saw on Emily in Paris? The one with the glowing courtyard and the pink cocktails? I booked us a table.”
“No way!”
“We’re going to Café de Flore. We came all this way; it’d be a crime not to.”
A smile pulls at my lips as the city blurs past us, glittering in the night. I can’t decide what’s more surreal: dinner at a famous bistro in Paris with my sister, or the fact that tomorrow I’ll be getting married to my boss.
After a delicious and expensive dinner, the car drops us off at the hotel, and for once, I’m thankful for the quiet elevator ride up. My stomach is pleasantly full, my feet ache from traipsing around the city, and I’m more than ready to collapse into bed.
When Tiana and I step into the suite, Worth and Griffin are stretched across the modern couches in the living room, nursing tumblers of dark liquor like kings surveying their domain.
Worth looks perfectly at ease, long legs crossed, glass balanced loosely in his hand. Griffin mirrors him, at least until his eyes catch on Tiana.
The change is immediate. His shoulders go stiff, his easy sprawl snapping rigid. His glass clinks against the table a little too hard as he puts it down.
I frown. What is up with that?
Tiana doesn’t seem to notice, or maybe she does and just enjoys it. She tosses her hair, sauntering past him with a smile that makes his jaw tick. They both disappear into different rooms.
I turn to Worth, dropping my shopping bags onto the armchair. “Okay, so… I count three bedrooms.”
He takes a lazy sip of his drink. “Correct.”
“Is my stuff in Tiana’s room?”
“No, in mine.”
My stomach drops. “Don’t tell me you expect us to sleep in the same room.”
His cocky smirk is infuriating. “Of course I do.”
“Worth.” I cross my arms, glaring at him. “No.”
“It’s expected. You’re my fiancée. We share a room.”
I flounder for an argument, until a thought sparks. “It’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding, you know.”
He doesn’t even blink. “This isn’t a typical wedding, Mya. And luck has nothing to do with it.” He tips his glass toward me. “I expect you in my room tonight.”
My jaw clenches, heat rushing to my face. “You are impossible.”
“True.” His eyes glitter over the rim of his glass. “But I usually get my way.”
I huff, grabbing my bags and storming past him, slamming the bedroom door behind me.
The adjoining bathroom is a marble dream, and I peel off my clothes with jerky movements, my pulse racing far too fast. Steam curls around me as I twist on the shower, stepping under the hot spray.
The water beats against my skin, but it does nothing to wash away the frustration I feel about Worth’s hot and cold behaviour.
Steam still clings to my skin when I step out of the bathroom, towel knotted around me. I stop dead in my tracks.
Worth is sitting in the chair tucked in the corner of the room near the loveseat, his glass of whiskey dangling from his hand, face half-hidden in the shadows. Watching me.
“Are you serious?” I snap, clutching the towel tighter. “Do you make a habit of lurking in women’s bedrooms like a stalker?”
His mouth curves, that infuriatingly arrogant smirk catching in the dim light. “Only when the woman is my fiancée.”
Warmth rushes to my cheeks, mostly in irritation. I march to my suitcase, snatch my pajamas, and storm back into the bathroom to change. When I reemerge, he’s still there. Same chair. Same piercing stare that makes my skin prickle.
I grab a pillow off the bed and hug it to my chest. “Fine. You stay here and play sentry, I’ll take the couch.”
“No, you won’t.”
I blink. “Excuse me?”
“You’ll be uncomfortable all night.”
“I’ll survive.”
“You’re not sleeping on the couch, Mya.”
The air in the room feels heavy as he rises, stepping closer.
Words tangle in my throat. “I don’t want to sleep next to you.”
He sets the empty glass on the dresser and tilts his head slightly, the faintest crease forming between his brows.
“I’m not asking you to want it,” he says evenly. “Just don’t act like I’m the enemy.”
“I’m not,” I murmur, clutching the pillow tighter. I let out a sigh. “I just need space. That’s all.”
Worth moves even closer. “Funny. You didn’t seem to mind my space that night after the gala.”
Heat floods my cheeks. “That was different.”
“Was it?” His voice dips. He takes another step closer, enough that I can smell the faint trace of whiskey and his cologne. “You can have space. Even in the same bed.”
“Worth—”
He cuts me off, his eyes never leaving mine. “You’ll still end up right where I want you, Mya.”
“Keep talking and you’ll be sleeping on the couch.”
His mouth quirks, still infuriatingly calm. “I’m going in the shower. When I come out, you’ll be in the bed, where you belong.”
“Don’t count on it,” I snap, but my pulse is already racing.
Worth chuckles, brushing past me. “We’ll see who ends up where, Kitten.”
He grabs a towel and disappears into the bathroom.
The second I hear the water running, I move. I toss the pillow onto the loveseat, snatch the spare blanket from the closet, and make myself a makeshift bed on the couch. It’s not exactly comfortable, but it’s the principle of the matter.
I’m busy arranging the blanket when the bathroom door opens with a hiss of steam.
For a heartbeat, I forget how to breathe.
Worth’s hair is wet, strands of dark and silver slicked back from his face.
Water glints in his salt-and-pepper beard, dripping down the column of his throat and his chest. His broad shoulders taper to a hard stomach, abs cut deep enough to make my mouth go dry.
I’ve felt his body pressed against mine before, but always through clothes.
His eyes narrow. “You’re on the couch.”
I lift my chin. “I told you I’m not sleeping in the bed.”
He scowls, jaw tightening, then walks to his bag and pulls out a pair of grey sweats. Without hesitation, he turns his back to me and drops the towel.
I gasp out loud before I can stop myself.
The muscles of his back ripple as he moves, water still sliding over his skin. His ass is firm, sculpted, like it’s been carved. Heat blooms low in my belly, completely against my will.
He pulls the sweats up slowly, then turns, eyes locking on me with a look of pure determination.
In three strides, he’s on me, and before I can scramble away, he hauls me up like I weigh nothing and tosses me over his shoulder.
“Worth! Put me down!” I pound at his back, kicking. It’s useless; he’s all muscle and has an unshakable grip.
He carries me to the bed and throws me onto it like a caveman staking a claim.
“My. Bed.”
I push up on my elbows, glaring. “I swear, I will end you in your sleep.”
His mouth curves into a dark smile as he braces his palms on either side of me. “Make sure to suffocate me with your perfect pussy. That would be my preferred way to die.”
I huff, shoving a pillow lengthwise between us, creating a makeshift wall of cotton and stubbornness. “There. Touch that barrier and you’re dead.”
Worth’s low chuckle rumbles across the dark room. He doesn’t seem fazed. Instead, he just slips into the bed, settling on his side with his back to me.
“Goodnight, Kitten,” he murmurs.
Worth
I wake up in a haze, the room still dark, the city lights a faint glow against the curtains. Heat rolls through me, clinging to my skin, making me sweat. For a second, I think it’s the sheets or the liquor in my veins.
Then I realize it’s Mya.
Her back is pressed flush against my chest, the barrier pillow lost somewhere at our feet.
A laugh slips out, quietly. She went through all the trouble to build a fort, and here she is glued to me anyway.
When I shift slightly, Mya stirs. Her breath deepens, hitching softly as she wiggles in her sleep, her ass pressing back against my cock. It hardens instantly.
I should roll away and put space between us. But instead, my hand finds its way to her waist, fingers skimming up her torso until they reach her breast. Her hand moves, covering mine. She moans, still asleep, murmuring something when I squeeze gently.
I tug at the neckline of her pajama top, dragging it down just far enough to bare her breasts. Her nipples pebble instantly, and I pinch one between my fingers, watching the way her body twitches in response.
My cock throbs against her, my control fraying thread by thread.
I press my nose to the curve of her neck and inhale, dragging my fingers slowly back down her body, over her stomach.
A soft sound slips from Mya’s lips. “Worth…”
For a second, I think she’s awake, but her lashes simply flutter. Is my kitten dreaming about me?
I let my fingers drift lower, between her thighs, until I find her heat under her shorts.
A guttural noise slips past my throat. She’s not wearing panties and she’s wet, already open to me, even in her sleep.
I brush her entrance before sliding a finger inside.
She twitches, a whimper caught in her throat.
I stroke her slowly, in and out, feeling her growing slicker, her breathing growing uneven as her body yields to me without conscious thought.
This should feel wrong. But pressed against her like this, her softness giving way to my touch, it feels inevitable. If she were awake, she’d probably remind me that we shouldn’t be doing this, but her body betrays her every time.
I ease a second finger inside, stretching her. Mya lets out a broken mewl that shoots straight to my cock, already hard against her ass.
“That’s my good kitten,” I murmur, curling my fingers.
Her body goes rigid as she starts to wake. “Worth… what are you doing?”
“Making you come.”
Mya whispers a protest, but her pelvis presses into my hand.
I quicken my pace.
“Worth…” she moans.
Harder.
“Please…”
“Please what, Kitten?” My thumb finds her clit, circling slowly. “Do you want me to stop?”
She mumbles something incoherent, then lets out another low moan.
“Please… Make me come.”
A growl rumbles from my chest as I lean in, teeth grazing her earlobe. “Your wish is my command, pretty girl.”
I work her until she’s trembling, breath splintering, moans rising. When I feel her cresting, I curl my fingers upward and beckon, my palm grinding against her clit.
Mya gasps, arching hard, her thighs locking around my wrist. “Yes. Fuck, I’m coming.”
It’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.
Then, as if nothing happened, her body slackens, her breathing evening out as she slips back into sleep.
I bring my fingers to my face, inhaling her scent. One I never want to forget.