30. “Earned It” - The Weeknd
“Earned It” - The Weeknd
Placing my future in Henry’s hands set off a flurry of activity in the penthouse. Daphne was brought to the flat to pack my bags, PPOs bustle around receiving instructions from Henry, and somewhere, a plane is being prepped for us.
In the midst of this carefully orchestrated chaos, Maisie walks in, a look of bewilderment on her face.
I’m in the great room, doing my best to stay out of everyone’s way, when I spot her.
We haven’t spoken since Henry had her arrested.
I motion her inside while my heart somersaults through my chest. This could very well be the thing that ends our friendship, and if it is, I can’t blame her.
“How are you?” I say when she’s close enough to hear me over the hubbub.
She nods and throws her arms around my neck. “It was awful. So bloody awful.”
“I am so sorry,” I say, returning her embrace.
She pulls back and sniffs. “Those cells really need some Lysol. I could still smell the previous occupant, and they told me no one had used it for over two months.”
“I hope you know I never—”
She cuts me off with a wave of her hand. “I know. Things have been crazy. No hard feelings.” Relief crashes through me. She looks around at the bags being hauled to the door. “Where are we going?”
Henry has allowed me one last visit with Tundra before we leave the country. He’s still sedated, but just feeling his heartbeat under all that fur was the reassurance I needed to know that I’m doing the right thing.
Henry and I are flying in a private jet. We haven’t been alone since I told him I was ready, and I don’t think he picked up on my double meaning. Yes, I’m ready to leave Wesbourne for wherever he wants to take me, but I’m also ready to trust him with my heart.
He was right about William, he was right about the memorial service, and he’s put his own life on the line to protect me more than once. If I can’t trust him, I can’t trust anyone. And in my position, that’s not a place I can afford to be.
In spite of everything he’s done, I still love him. I will always love him. Unhealthy as it may be, you can’t choose who you fall for. And like it or not, my wagon is hitched to that incredibly distracting man now sitting just a few feet away from me.
I watch him from the opposite side of the plane, immersed in papers, sexy nerd glasses on.
He’s completely oblivious to me. I hope that doesn’t mean we’ve lost our chance forever.
For all I know, he’s moved on in the time it took for me to get my bearings.
But if he really loved me for as long as he said he did, I’m under no illusion that he can turn it off that quickly. I’ll simply have to remind him.
Maisie is sitting in the seat across from me, prattling on about her new project: researching laws and regulations concerning Wesbourne’s jails and prisons.
I tuned her out about five minutes ago, not because it isn’t important, but because I have a million other things on my mind, not the least of which is the man across the aisle from us.
I haven’t even bothered to ask where we’re going. It doesn’t really matter. I know that Henry will make sure we arrive safely and that nothing happens to me there. I should’ve listened to the advice to trust him sooner. It really is quite freeing.
As though he can feel my gaze on him, he flicks his eyes toward me, but when he finds me already looking at him, he relaxes and gives me a secret smile before turning back to the report in his hand.
The heat in that look tears through me and sets my heart racing.
I feel like I’m back in school and just made eye contact with my crush.
Henry shifts in his seat, then reaches up and loosens his tie.
His long, slender fingers unbutton the top button of his shirt, then slip inside the collar to loosen it as well.
If not for his slow, controlled movements, I would think nothing of it.
But the motions are too deliberate, too calculated, to be anything other than a tease.
If that’s the way he wants to play it . . .
I slowly bend over and slip off both my heels, leaving my stockinged feet free to stretch and curl.
I keep my eyes on Maisie, who is still going on about prisoners deserving clean cells, but I can feel Henry’s dark eyes burning in my direction.
I cross one leg over the other, knowing it will encourage my dress to slide up a few more inches.
Then I luxuriously stretch my arms overhead and arch my back.
From my peripheral vision, I see him dig his fingers into his hair.
I have to bite back a smile. Two can play this game.
I shrug the cardigan sweater I’m wearing off my shoulders and rub a hand over my bare shoulder.
I don’t dare look at him, but I imagine sweat breaking out on his skin.
Sliding a hand up my neck, I pretend to work out a particularly difficult knot—
“Are you even listening to me?” Maisie’s voice jolts me back to reality, reminding me that Henry and I are not alone on this jet.
I quickly drop my hand back to my lap. “Of course,” I say. “You want to launch an initiative to clean up the prisons.”
She frowns but continues without even catching her breath. I chance a glance at Henry. He has returned to his paperwork, but a devilish grin has taken over his face.
It’s still dark when we land, and it takes me several minutes to identify the private flight sector of Heathrow. I shouldn’t be too surprised that this is what Henry chose. Outside of Wesbourne, he has the most connections in London.
We disembark, and soon I’m settled into a black town car. After a brief drive, we pull up to a curb, and even in the dark, I recognize the Lanesborough hotel. My heart isn’t sure what to do with this information. Some of the best memories of my life happened here, but so did some of the worst.
Henry hasn’t told me his plans, and he left in one of the earlier cars, probably to get security set up before I arrive.
According to Maisie, some celebrity from the US has booked the royal suite, so at least I won’t have to sleep in the same bed where Henry made love to me, then proceeded to break my heart.
The suite I end up in is decorated in soothing blues and greens, with an exquisite Christmas tree in the corner of the living room. I don’t realize how tired I am until I catch sight of the massive four-poster bed in the master bedroom.
After unpacking my bags, Maisie and Daphne each retire to their own rooms, and I can finally get ready for sleep. I’m slipping out of my cardigan when a low voice behind me says, “I’ve been waiting for you to do that since the plane.”
A dash of heat climbs my spine, and I turn to see Henry leaning against the door frame, sexy smile in place. The longer he looks at me, the more jellified my muscles become. I want him, more than I’ve ever wanted anything.
He must read the desire on my face, because he moves into the room, but slowly, like he’s testing the risk of me bolting. My heart pounds louder with every step he takes, a bloody snare drum announcing to the entire world what this man does to me.
When he’s a few feet away, he stops and pulls his tie from around his neck. “You were a little vixen on the plane.” His voice is like sandpaper on my sensitive skin. He tosses the tie onto the floor.
“What does that make you?” I ask. “Magic Mike?”
A grin stretches across his face. He hums in amusement, but it’s more of a rumble. “It’s been nineteen days since I’ve given you an orgasm.”
I swallow loudly. “You’re counting?”
Instead of answering, he closes the distance between us and grabs me. I gasp from the sheer pleasure of having his hands on me again. He leads me backward and pins me against the wall, then kisses me hungrily, like I’m his last meal.
The movement of his tongue isn’t slow and romantic, but urgent and desperate. The same overpowering need is consuming us both. He tastes of spearmint and Henry and desire. As he presses against me, I can feel how badly he wants this, how badly he wants me.
He breaks off to kiss his way down my jawline and neck. “You want this, right? It’s not just me?”
I suck air into my lungs as he nibbles my ear. “I love you. I’ve always loved you.”
“Except for when you planned to marry fucking Harrison,” he mutters.
I roll my eyes, then gasp as he bites my neck. “Don’t start.”
“And this isn’t just a ruse to get information out of me?” He cocks a brow as he looks down at me.
I manage what I hope is a coy look. “Would it work?”
He growls and leans down to my neck again. “Probably.”
“I don’t need to know anything you don’t want to tell me.”
It’s not until the words are leaving my mouth that I realize just how true they are. I’m content to wait until he’s ready to tell me about his father and all of the other things he’s keeping from me. It’s all for my safety anyway.
I drag him back so that he’s looking at me and place a hand over his heart. “I trust you.”
His face melts into a welcoming sweetness before he returns his mouth to mine. His groan fills the room, and he presses into me even further. I curl my fingers into his hair, tugging on it and causing him to moan each time.
“Baby, I’ve been waiting so long,” he says into my ear. “I can’t wait to see how wet you are for me.”
I gasp as a shiver runs down my spine. “Pretty sure my panties were already soaked on the plane.”
“Fuck,” he moans against my mouth. In a flurry of movement, he pulls up my dress. He stabilizes me with one hand while the other pushes aside the crotch of my damp underwear. “God,” he whispers. “You weren’t kidding.” He slips in two fingers, both satisfying and increasing the ache inside me.
Pressing me against the wall for leverage, he hoists one of my legs up, giving him better access and a deeper angle.
I hold back a cry as he strokes my core and uses his thumb to rub circles over my clit.
I open my eyes to find his heavy, sensual gaze on me as he watches me come undone by his hands.