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“That’s why they say curiosity killed the cat.”

“Wow, you must’ve had quite a collection of bald Barbies.”

“Shut up.”

“I should also keep all the dolls away when you’re hungry because you’ll eat all their pretty hair.”

I shake my head and walk away from him, throwing over my shoulder, “I think I’ll go on the Ferris wheel alone.”

A second later, my feet lift off the ground as Kingston picks me around the waist from behind. I laugh breathlessly ashe bites my earlobe and huskily says, “Then who are you going to make out with at the top?”

“Not you,” I tease when he puts me down. Twisting, I walk backward and wink. “I’ll just make myself come.”

“I’m going to hold you to that,” he playfully warns, looking ravishing in his leather jacket and denims.

It makes me curious about his wardrobe, specifically about his New York one.

While we stand in the queue for the ride, I ask, “Do you wear suits to work?”

There’s just something insanely hot about a man in a business suit. Especially, if they have a physique like Kingston.

I’m wet just thinking about it.

I picture him in one, drooling over how sexy he must look. All domineering and intimidating, commanding the conference room. He probably saunters down the office halls like he owns the damn place and sits like a king behind his big desk in a top-notch glass-walled office.

“Yeah, I dress formally in New York,” he drawls and stills when he notices the desire in my eyes.

I moan low in my throat when his cock hardens against the curve of my hips. Thankfully, it’s dark and I’m standing flush with my back pressed against his front, so nobody notices. His fingers dig into my skin, yanking me closer.

“Does it turn you on, little vixen?” His voice is dripping with sin.

I nod and whisper so only he can hear, “Do you happen to have one with you?”

“Guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

CHAPTER – 28

Twinkle

Cinching the long overcoat tighter around my body, I knock on the door.

The light wind blowing through the balcony ruffles my hair, sending a shiver skating down my spine.

On the other side, I hear slow and measured footsteps approaching.

The butterflies in my stomach flutter in wicked anticipation while my toes curl in my high heels. It’s the least daring item in my ensemble.

The knob twists.

My breath hitches.

The door opens wide and I teeter on my heels, the oxygen knocking out of my lungs. Kingston—or shall I say my John since I’m roleplaying as his escort—fills the doorway with his impressive frame in a formfittingsuit.

One he lied about not having earlier in the day.

Sneaky man.

He hasn’t missed a single thing to fulfill my heart’s desires. Kingston is a sight to behold in his white dress shirt, black vest, and jacket with a matching tie in a perfect knot. The buckle of his belt glints as I let my gaze roam lower, greedy for every inch of him. He looks like he’s on his way to work. Except, his hair is in disarray, with a few strands falling over his temple, making his features sinful and lazy after a day of hard work.