Page 45 of Double Down

He turns, giving me his entire focus, and it’s enough to have heat building in my core. Slowly, his eyes travel from the top of my head to my feet.

While he watches, I take a deep breath and step forward, only for him to reach out grasp my fingers. Once he has me by the hand, he tugs gently until I’m standing between his spread legs.

He starts to kiss me, I can’t even process how quickly he was able to maneuver me.

“You’re perfection, kitten.” His words hit me in my whole chest. “I mean it. Thank you for caring.”

Then, just like it never happened in the first place, Atticus releases me and turns back to the bank of monitors. After a moment, I turn and walk away.

Next on my internal list is Maverick. He’s downstairs at the main pool deck, a Bluetooth headset in his ear as he paces by the crystal clear water in a suit. His hair is messy, like it was styled to lay in waves that just touch his shoulders, but he’s spent the last several hours shoving his hand through it and messing it up.

It looks good on him, but I know he doesn’t think so.

“Hey, Mav,” I say, moving to stand in front of him.

“Morning, firebird.” He grabs me by the back of my neck, pulling me towards him so he can slam a claiming kiss on me. It’s not until he lets me go that I notice the other men at the pool watching.

“You okay?” I ask.

He runs a hand through his hair, tussling the burnished waves even more. “No. Yes. Fuck, I don’t know. I’m not built for this.”

I frown and put my hands on his shoulders to stop him from pacing. “Built for what?”

“This.” He waves a hand toward the lobby ,a poker chip dancing between his fingers. “All of these contracts, profit projections, RO-fucking-I statements. All of it. It’s not me. It’s not something I can do.”

“You’re looking at it wrong, Mav.” I tell him. It doesn’t take a genius to understand how they work. “Con handles the numbers and the contracts. It’s what he’s good at. He and Atticus are the brains. You and Storm? You’re the heart,” I remind him.

He scoffs and looks away. I grab his chin and force him to look at me.

“Con’s contracts mean nothing if no one is here giving you their money. You’re the reason people want to come back. You’ve always been the one to bring the people to the party, you make sure they have fun. That’s just as vital as Atticus’s numbers, Storm’s intensity, and Conrad’s...control.”

He stares at me like he wants to believe that, but doesn’t. I can’t blame him. We’re all surrounded by truths, lies, and our understandings and misconceptions of situations. Breaking through those walls is something we have to do before we can really move forward.

I step closer, looking deeper into his eyes. “You’re creative, Mav. You are the clever one who can make people laugh and have fun. I’ve seen it my whole life. You charm people, you adapt to what they need and manipulate it to serve you and what you want. You’ll find ways to survive in any situation, and then thrive. You’ve done it forever.”

He looks down, a shadow flickering across his face as he watches the chip disappear between his fingers.

“I feel like I’m playing pretend,” he breathes.

I can’t help the breathless laugh that escapes me.

“So am I,” I whisper back. “I’m not made for any of this, but I’m following your lead and adapting, making this work for me, and you know what?”

“What?”

“We are both very good at faking it.”

He leans in, and his whisper, when it skates over me, is dark and hot. “I know a few things you are very good at. But faking it with me isn’t even in the realm of your skillset.”

If I don’t walk away now, I know there’s no chance I’m going to be able to check on the others, so I give him a quick kiss and practically flee before I throw my panties at him and ask him to fuck me in a bathroom.

Unfortunately, Storm is in a meeting with someone it looks like he’s in the process of firing. Instead of interrupting, I make eye contact with him and blow a kiss before walking away.

Instead, I set off to find Con, which shouldn’t be as hard as it is.

Like Atticus, he needs a desk and a computer to get his shit done. Unlike Atticus, Con doesn't like to work in the penthouse.

He should’ve been in his father’s office. Unfortunately, Con refuses to go into that office and doesn’t want to tell me why.