Chapter One
ENCRYPTING LANE
The St. Barts sun had kissed Lane’s honeyed-hued skin in a way that had her glowing.
The salinity in the air couldn’t be missed as smoke from the blunt KC rolled and passed around, floating through the villa.
Lane stood at the railing watching the water turn from turquoise to ink as her silk caftan slipped off one shoulder while the people she loved most laughed and enjoyed a much-needed vacation.
Nova and Tariq were doing their usual flirt-to-fight choreography, and Cadence sat rubbing her barely-there bump while KC poured her sparkling water like it was champagne because she’d lied and told him her stomach was bothering her.
Lane tried to focus on something, anything other than the hyper-awareness of the heat at her back from the way Lennox had been staring at her all afternoon. His eyes told the story that she was the last thing he wanted to see before he slept and the first thing he wanted to touch when he woke up.
"You keep standing out here by yourself, and people gon’ think you don’t like us,” his voice close enough to make the hairs on her neck stand up.
She didn't turn. "Maybe I don't like your arrogant ass."
"Liar,” He said, stepping beside her.
He was close but not touching her. At bare minimum, he understood social cues and was respecting that invisible boundary she'd drawn since they landed.
"You picked this villa. Helped KC plan this whole trip knowing I’d be here. If you didn't like me, you would've stayed your ass at home."
Lane laughed before finally looking at him. The sunset caught the sharpness of his jaw and the glint of the gold chain around his neck. What she didn’t expect was the way his eyes softened when they met hers despite the cocky smirk he wore like armor.
"I like the view, but your company is... debatable," she quipped.
Lennox laughed, and Lane hated that it made her feel giddy inside, but she’d never tell his worrisome ass that. Maybe it was because when he laughed, he showed the gold canines on his top and bottom teeth.
"Cold. I knew you were cold, Lane Sanders, but I might need a North Face fucking with you."
"You don't know anything about me,” she rebutted.
"Let me learn then,” he said smoothly.
It didn’t seem like a question, but more of a dare that Lane wouldn’t back down from.
As the evening began to wind down, Nova and Tariq headed to his villa.
They all knew the pair had something going on, but the private couple would never quite confess it.
Cadence and KC headed to their master suite as KC fussed about her going to the doctor when they got back to make sure her stomach issues weren’t anything serious.
Lane knew she should’ve left when everyone else did but found herself alone with Lennox on the terrace—the night had cooled to something bearable as the ocean crashed against the cliffs below, providing the soundtrack.
"You want another drink?" he asked, already pouring rum into two glasses. He was heavy on the ice, exactly how she'd been drinking them all day.
Lane arched a brow. "You’ve been taking notes, Jackson?"
"On everything,” he answered with a wink as he handed her the glass, letting his fingers brush against hers, lingering a second too long, "The way you take your coffee or the face you make when Tariq tells those corny ass jokes.”
She laughed, rolling her eyes.
“I know the spot on your neck that jumps when you're pretending you don't feel something when I’m near you,” he flirted.
Lane took the drink but didn't sip; she couldn’t. Her pulse was doing that traitorous thing again—hammering beneath her collarbone where her caftan gaped. "And what am I pretending not to feel right now?"
Lennox set his glass down before getting close enough to take hers and set it down too as he stepped into her space.
He was close enough that she had to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact.
Close enough that she could smell the rum on his breath and the cedar-amber scent that had been haunting her since she walked into the villa.
"That you want me to touch you," he said. The roughness in his voice had been stripped of its usual smoothness. “That you’ve been thinking about it since Miami, but you're scared because you know if I get you, I won’t come off you."
Lane should've had a quip ready; instead, her mouth was dry, void of some sharp-edged deflection that would put him in his place and restore the power balance. Now here she stood with her body betraying her, leaning toward him like he was magnetic north.
"Then touch me," she whispered, "Or stop talking."
His mouth crashed into hers with a hunger that made her knees buckle.
Lennox caught her waist and began walking her backward until her spine hit the cool stone of the villa wall.
The heat of his touch mixed with the chill of the stone as night air danced on her exposed skin was the perfect contrast to make her gasp.
He swallowed the sound as he kissed her deep and messy, like he'd been starving and she was his first meal in weeks.
"Let’s go," he growled against her throat as he sucked and bit, hoping to leave marks that she'd have to cover with concealer tomorrow, "Unless you want someone to see you begging me for your release against this railing."
He left Lane breathless and dizzy with lust. "Since when do you care about being seen?"
"Since I realized I won’t share you," He answered, pulling back, staring into her eyes in a way that made her stomach flip.
She didn't know what to say or if she could even speak, considering the lump that had formed in her throat—so she grabbed his hand and led him to the villa she was sharing with Nova.
The moment the door clicked shut, she found Lennox all over her again, this time slower and reverent.
He untied the caftan, letting it pool at her feet as his gaze raked over her like he was memorizing every dip and curve.
Lane stood in nothing but a lace thong, feeling seen and undressed in a way that had nothing to do with clothes.
"Beautiful," he murmured, the word sounding like a prayer falling from his lips.
"Stop being gentle," she ordered, reaching for his shirt buttons, "I don't need gentle."
Lennox caught her wrists with a firm gentleness. "Yeah, you do. You need somebody to be soft with you, but you don't know how to ask for it," he declared, guiding her backward until the back of her knees hit the edge of the bed and her back met the mattress.
He placed Lane’s legs on his shoulders, kissing her left ankle then the right, before moving to her calf then the inside of her knee as he continued working his way up with agonizing patience while Lane's fingers twisted in the sheets and her hips rolled restlessly.
"Impatient," he observed while smiling against her thigh.
"You're teasing me,” she whined.
"I'm savoring my feast," He spoke before nipping the sensitive skin where her leg met her hip.
She gasped as her body arched off the bed.
"Something tells me nobody's ever taken their time with you. Always rushing to get to the main event, yeah?" He asked rhetorically.
Her reactions to his touch told him everything he needed to know. Lane didn't answer because he was right and she hated that he could read her so easily. Lennox hooked his fingers in her thong bikini bottom and dragged it down her legs before tossing it aside.
What he did next made her brain short-circuit—he licked the seat of her thong and moaned like it was a Michelin star meal.
Thinking he couldn’t snatch her soul any more, he lifted her foot and pressed a kiss to her arch before he took her big toe into his mouth.
sucking gently while swirling his tongue around it like it was the most incredible thing he'd ever tasted.
"Oh, fuck," Lane breathed.
Her whole body flushing hot. She'd had men do a lot of things to her, but never with the filthy reverence Lennox was doing it.
"You like that?" he asked as he switched to the next toe, then the next while keeping his eyes locked on hers to watch her unravel.
"Yes. God, yes."
"Good," He kissed his way up her shin, then her knee while spreading her thighs wider to settle between them, “Because I plan on making you feel everything tonight."
When he finally put his mouth on her, Lane saw stars.
Not metaphorically either—but actual bursts of light behind her eyelids as his tongue dragged through her folds with a flat, firm stroke that had her crying out.
He didn't rush; instead, he ate her like he had all night, like her pleasure was the only thing on his agenda for the night.
She tried to watch him lick and suck every part of her pussy, but when he started circling her clit with a precision that made her thighs tremble around his ears—her eyes snapped shut as her head fell back against the bed.
"Right there," she panted, letting her hands find their way to his waves, gripping tight, "Right fucking there, Lennox."
He hummed against her, causing vibrations to ease up her spine before he dragged his tongue lower, pushing it in her pretty pussy as she writhed against his face, making her back arch off the bed.
When he’d had his fill, he moved lower still, teasing the tight ring of muscle that no one had ever touched with their mouth before.
"Lennox—"
"You want me to stop?" he asked as the words were muffled against her skin with his breath hot and wet.
"Don't you dare."
He chuckled, knowing what her answer would be, before giving her asshole the same thorough attention he'd given her pussy.
He was using his fingers to fill the void his tongue left moments prior—pumping into her while his tongue worked her backdoor open.
Lane was making sounds she'd never heard from her own throat—desperate sounds filled with need that she couldn't control if she wanted to.
"Please," she begged, hating herself for it but simultaneously loving it, "Please, I need—"