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He slows down as he gets close and comes to a stop right in front of me.

“Hi,” I squeak in the direction of his crotch, which I’m sure has started pointing at me.

“Eyes are up here, Pixie,” comes his sardonic drawl. I pout for a second, sending a telepathic message to his dick that I’ll be seeing him properly soon before I drag my eyes up over his torso, clad in a zip up hoodie, chest hair poking above the top of the zip. I finally meet his eyes and bite my lip at the look I see there. There’s sarcasm in his expression mixed with so much heat I can’t quite understand why we’re not both engulfed in flames right now.

“Hey,” I greet his face this time.

“Come on, menace.” He wraps a beefy arm around my shoulder, drawing me close into a half hug before leading us both back up the path to the hotel entrance.

“You keep calling me menace. You know my name is Pixie.” The side eye he gives me causes flutters low in my belly.

“They both suit you.” His voice is pitched low, and I swear my pussy weeps at his accent. This man and his voice are going to be the end of me. He changes the subject. “Have you eaten?”

“Yeah. I had a meal from the kitchen about half seven. Tom’s obsession with feeding people is similar to yours.” I do nothing to hold back the eye roll.

“Excuse me for checking you weren’t going to faint on me again, like some kind of Victorian maiden.”

“I hardly fainted. I just got a little dizzy, is all.”

“Well, it’s not happening again on my watch. Who’s Tom?” He shoots the question, his gaze focused on my face.

“My boss.”

“And he feels the need to check you’re well-fed?” We’ve reached the entrance now, and it’s even fancier than I remember, with a red carpet rolled down over the steps. Despitethe late hour, there’s a doorman dressed in a suit with brass buttons.

“Mr Macleod.” He nods at Cam as he opens the door for us. He doesn’t look at me at all.

“Thanks, Harry,” Cam says as we enter the lobby. More marble floors and chandeliers. Cam is clearly some kind of snob about where he stays. This place is just as fancy as the place I met him and Saff in Glasgow. I still can’t work out if he actually lived there or if it was a hotel room. And I’ve thought about that a lot over the last few months.

“You really like fancy places, huh?”

“I appreciate good architecture. It comes with the job.” He gives a shrug.

“Is this what The Juniper will look like when you guys are done with it?” I ask, unable to hold back my curiosity.

“Not the whole building. It’s going to be something of a mix. The foundations will all be based on the period it was built in. But there’s going to be various functions and the decor will depend on the purpose.”

I could listen to him talk all night. His voice equally soothing and arousing at the same time; kind of like being the little spoon and being fucked to sleep.

“You want to stop at the bar for a drink, Pixie?” he asks in a husky tone.

I shake my head. “I want a tour of your room.”

The smile that lifts each corner of his mouth is filthy.

Chapter nine

Cam

“Come on then,” I steer her towards the bank of lifts, pressing the call button while I keep her tucked under my arm. I don’t want to let her go. I’m glad she didn’t want to stop at the bar for a drink, but there’s also a hint of nerves. Last time we did this, Saff was there too. I know very little about this tiny woman, held tight to my side, but I do know she doesn’t do monogamy. She’d been pretty clear about that over our Italian dinner in Glasgow. I distinctly remember her saying she didn’t see the point in it.

And I’m okay with that. I’ve been looking for fun myself and don’t feel the need for a steady relationship any time soon.

But I also can’t hold back the excitement of knowing she’s here with just me tonight, and I get her all to myself, even if it is only for a couple of hours.

The lift signals its arrival with a ding, and I guide her inside. It’s just us in there, surrounded by mirrors on three sides of the box, giving me all kinds of dirty ideas of what I can do to herbefore we get to the floor I’m staying on. But at the last minute, I hear a “hold the lift,” and a hand reaches to stop the doors from sliding closed. It’s another couple. A guy dressed in a tux, the bowtie loose and hanging around his neck. A woman poured into a silver sequined dress with a slit going all the way up her thigh. They are laughing, and the woman puts her mouth close to his ear but does nothing to lower her tone when she says, “Why the rush? Would have been more fun to have the place to ourselves.” He reaches down and grips a handful of her arse and whispers something back that I can’t hear.

Warmth prickles at my cheek as Pixie stares at me in the mirror. There’s a hint of a smile on her face as she leans towards the couple and in a staged whisper, says, “Don’t mind us. We like watching.”