Chapter 29 – Luka
I shouldn’t be jealous. Weston Douche Greene had nothing on me. Now his brother…. Fuck, John Henry was a force to be reckoned with. But the way Vivian nearly sprinted to the interior sent a wave of unease through me. I caught up with her just as she darted into the rotating door.
“Weston is your lawyer?” she panted, excitement shimmering darkly in her deep eyes.
The trickle in my chest might be something very like jealousy. Weston had nothing! He was just some suit. If he owned a gun, he didn’t come shooting in the country with his brother and me. He wasn’t the sort to be jealous over.
And yet….
“How do you know him?” I hounded after her as she skipped to the security checkpoint.
“He was a year ahead of me in law school. But our families moved in the same circles,” Vivian said with a dismissive wave of her hand.
We went through the metal turnstile.
Vivian stopped on the other side, smoothing a hand over the tee and shorts she was wearing. “Oh, shit.”
I cocked my head to the side. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t go up there,” she breathed, looking toward the bank of elevators.
Were her cheeks pink?
Something violent began to rumble in my chest. “Why not?”
“I’m dressed for a day at the lake.” She stabbed her hand at her midsection and stared at me. “It’s a workday, and there will be professionals in real clothes.”
“Oh, is that all,” I chuckled. “It’s not a big deal, Viv.”
Her hands planted on her hips, and an explosion brewed behind that beautiful face. But there was something more in her tone. Hurt, perhaps? Worry or something worse?
“It is a big deal. This is Cath, Greene, and Stone. An old and powerful firm! I respect this place, and I don’t want to appear like a slob,” she said.
I stepped into her. “Alright, baby. If you say it matters, then it does. Do you want to go shopping quick? Or run back to the house?”
My response seemed to put her at a loss for words. I meant what I said. It didn’t matter to me, because pricks in suits were boring and their work was meaningless at the end of the day. But if Vivian said it mattered, then it did.
Vivian worried her bottom lip. Those pearly white teeth brought a bloom of red just under the surface of the skin.
“Hey, none of that.” I reached out. The pad of my thumb pushed against her bite, pulling the raspberry-colored lip free.
Heat shot straight to my groin.
Saints! What did that beautiful mouth taste like? And when could I sink my teeth into her flesh? We hadn’t kissed yet, not properly. I was waiting until the moment was right and she didn’t see me as the enemy before I devoured that lush mouth.
Realizing what I’d done, I dropped my hand. “Sorry. You didn’t ask.”
“It’s okay,” she breathed.
I shook my head. “That’s not the rule. You have to touch me first.”
“I’m sure we could find a technicality,” she offered in a whisper.
My dick swelled. Fuck, I wanted her. “We could.”
Vivian watched me. An unsteady breath filled her lungs. When she set her shoulders straight and gave me a nod, my black heart fucking lurched. The strength of this woman!
“Let’s go.” She spun around, marched to the elevator bank, and stabbed the button.
“But you said—”
“If they can’t respect me for my presence, they aren’t going to change their minds based on what I’m wearing.” Vivian slipped into the elevator. “It’s not like I’m getting a job here anytime soon.”
That was it. She’d hoped to work here.
Forcing back the surge of anger, I dogged after her, crowding her into the corner. “You know, if we didn’t have this no touching rule, I would use the next thirty seconds to make you see stars.”
Vivian arched a brow. “Stars, huh?”
I nodded and took a step forward. “Yeah, baby.”
Her back hit the brass wall.
“If you were that good, you wouldn’t need to touch me.” She crossed her arms over her chest. The tap of her foot filled the space.
The door dinged and a noisy couple of low-rung workers came into the space, talking about financials. There were other businesses in this skyscraper, so it was doubtful they were going to the floors owned by Weston’s law firm.
“Tell me, what would you do?” Vivian challenged.
This girl wanted to play with fire. Okay then, I could do that. “The thing I most want to do is kiss you breathless.”
“But you’re so picky, I doubt our first kiss would be in an elevator,” she countered.
I shook my head. “Hell, no.”
“So what else would you do?” Those mocha eyes sparkled. She was enjoying this game as much as I was.
“I would taste the spot right below your ear,” I murmured. My finger brushed against the spot on my own throat. The bruised flesh flared with a delicious pulse of pain.
There was another ding, and someone entered.
I arched a brow, silently asking Vivian if I should continue.
The answering smirk was damn near sweet enough to give me diabetes.
“I would run my tongue down your pulse. When I was satisfied with the intensity of its fluttering, I would rake my teeth across your flesh.” I braced my arm above her head, leaning close to shield her from the prying eyes behind us.
“Unoriginal. You’ve done all that,” she sassed.
But the breathlessness with which she spoke told me it was mostly bravado.
“Meanwhile, my fingers would brush the sensitive skin right above the line of your shorts. But you wouldn’t be ticklish and giggle.”
“I wouldn’t?” she drawled. “I think such a ridiculous attempt would warrant plenty of giggling.”
“You mean gasping,” I purred. “But there aren’t enough floors to keep teasing. And I’m a merciful, generous lover.”
Vivian snorted. “Those are hardly synonyms for cocky and lucky.”
“Oh, I think I would only play with my smart mouthed baby then. If she’s going to be this ungrateful, she doesn’t deserve relief. But I would slide my fingers back and forth, giving her just enough of that delicious friction before we arrived.”
There was a forced coughing behind us.
“Well, if we’re touching,” Vivian whispered, “maybe I would give you a taste of your own medicine, mister.”
“Oh, baby, I would relish that.” You have no idea the power you hold, darlin.
“Will you please comport yourself with a shred of decorum,” a severe voice interjected.
I smirked at Vivian.
She shook her head, biting her lip. “You bring out the crazy in me, you know that?”
“Nah, it was already there.” I picked a stray curl off her forehead and laid it along with the rest. My fingers hovered a hair above her skin but didn’t make contact. “You were the one standing in line to fly through the air, remember?”
Vivian drew in a deep breath, humming. “Yeah, I was, wasn’t I.”
“Why’d you do it?” I cocked my head to the side. The reflection above showed that we were at the proper floor, but I let the others disembark before removing myself from shielding Vivian.
One delicate shoulder lifted and fell. “I hate heights.”
“I don’t follow?”
The doors began to close. Reluctantly, I jumped back to catch them before they could clap together.
“It’s nothing,” Vivian shook her head, leaving the elevator.
It’s not nothing, babe.
She approached the receptionist’s desk and addressed the elderly gentleman working. “We have an appointment.”
“Name?” the receptionist asked.
“You can’t be up here,” the manners police from the elevator said, storming toward us.
“We have a meeting with Mr. Van Greene.” Vivian leveled the portly man with a stare. “Do you want to tell him you prevented us from making that appointment?”
The pompous ass opened and closed his mouth.
“I thought so,” Vivian said coolly.
“You don’t belong here. We don’t cater to your sort.” The man turned up his nose.
I stepped behind Vivian.
But she had it under control.
“Careful,” she warned. “You don’t know who you’re talking about.”
For the first time in my life, I wished we were in business professional garments. I would love to evoke the power of a suit, crushing this little man under the weight of my presence. Clearly my ink-stained arms and menacing presence weren’t enough in this playing field.
And that made Vivian feel bad.
She would never admit it, but this was why she wanted to change into one of those sexy little office-siren outfits.
“Mr. Van Greene is waiting for you in conference room B,” the receptionist said, breaking the tension. “Right this way.”
“Oh, I know the way around here,” Vivian said, dismissing the offer. “After all, my grandfather’s name is on the wall—right there with Weston’s.”
No way! I studied her face for a brief second. She was beaming . This was her legacy.
My fist clenched. The one that had been stolen from her.
Her coming here was so much more than seeing Weston or what she was wearing.
Rounding on the portly man, I saw him blanch. He blinked, doing a double take. Recognition came over his features. “Miss Hayworth?”
Vivian let out a short laugh. “Excuse me, I’m running behind schedule.”
With that, she walked past the man as if he were a potted plant and not worth her time.
“Your late grandfather would be embarrassed by the way you were acting in that elevator,” the man called after us.
Vivian never showed that she heard.
I could have brushed off the snipe at my expense. I had been making a scene in the elevator. Mischief was fun. Trouble gave me a rush.
But that comment didn’t fly when talking about my girl. My wife.