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“I will.”
She hangs up, and I turn, lean my head against the glass. I want to blank my mind, but the voices won’t stop. Neither does the raw hunger that’s been plaguing me since I walked away from Elyse. Dinner was a bad idea. It opened me up to…a lot. I said things…felt things I can’t take back. Like telling her about Kiawah Island. She’ll only needs a quick internet search to connect the dots and find out that where Q took her and where Quinn was born are two properties within the same estate.
Maybe I want her to make the connection? Maybe I’m tired of giving her one persona without the other. Of fucking her without showing my face.
And that kiss. Fuck, that kiss.
I groan, lift the glass of whiskey and take a sip. My cock is harder than fuck. But my mind hasn’t stopped reeling through events. Her hand on mine on the table. The sympathy in her eyes. The unexpected jolting of that charred lump in my chest. And this relief that I suddenly want? What the fuck is that about?
How can I want respite now when it’s all coming to an end anyway?
I drain the glass and toss it away, not caring where it lands. I press both hands against the glass and breathe, searching for a center I know isn’t there.
I’m grateful when the concierge’s buzzer sounds. “Your guest has arrived, sir. Shall I send her up?”
“Yes,” I croak.
She’s here. The sharp edges of my lust glisten, readying itself to cleave. I step back from the window, go to the far side of the living room where the mask is waiting on the cocktail bar. Next to it is a solitary blue pill. I swallow the pill and put on the mask. The voice distorter goes in my mouth and I adjust the lighting. The cameras are already rolling.
I open the door and wait for the elevator to arrive. This apartment is by far one of the most expensive of my New York portfolio. It’s also a Blackwood Estate apartment. Once going back to South Carolina became unviable, I chose this apartment.
The elevator arrives and I see she’s heeded my instruction. The weather is cool enough for her to get away with a light coat covering her body. But I’m more interested in what she has on underneath. Or what she hasn’t.
“Lucky.”
Her head jerks in my direction, the blindfold I asked her to wear in the elevator firmly in place.
“Hello, Q,” she responds huskily.
I step forward to stop the doors from shutting and toy with the idea of sliding my fingers through hers like I did earlier this evening. Would she recognize Quinn’s touch?
A part of me wants her to; the part of me that confessed to needing her to Fionnella. The part I haven’t been able to block out effectively since.
Another part of me wants the game to continue forever.
I catch hold of her wrist. Her perfume, the same one she wore to dinner, wraps around me as I walk her into the apartment.
The moment the door shuts, I come up behind her, slide my arms around her waist to untie the coat. I release the single button and the coat slides off her shoulders.
She’s naked, except for the lace topped stockings, the diamond necklace and her heels. I cup her shoulders and she shivers.
“Did you enjoy your naked-under-the-coat ride across town, Lucky?” I growl in her ear.
“A little bit,” she mutters.
“And when you talked to the concierge downstairs? Did you blush?”
She bites her inner lip and her nostrils flare. “Possibly.”
I turn her around, my movements a little rougher than I can control.
Her mouth. Holy fuck, her mouth. Still swollen from my rough kisses a couple of hours ago.
I pass a rough thumb over her bruised lower lip, the need to experience the kiss again making my cock throb painfully. I silently despise Quinn for taking what I can’t have.
Shit. I’m jealous of myself. That’s how fucked up I am. The fact that I’m dying to kiss her again, but can’t in case she recognizes me, makes me want to lash out and cuddle her at the same time. Jesus. I don’t know what the fuck I want.
“Come here,” I growl, walking backward. “Follow the sound of my voice.”