Page 75 of Illicit Games

Smoothing my skirt, I answer, “Just stay here.”

Running inside, I find our phones. When I pick them up, Kian’s screen lights up. I almost drop it when my face stares back at me. It’s the picture I sent him from Rosalie’s gala. A giddy and warm feeling bubbles up inside me that he has made it his lock screen.

For a man who has never been in a relationship, he’s giving every man a run for his money.

Thanking my lucky stars, I go back out, but pause at the threshold.

I take in Kian’s profile as he gazes at the view. There’s an ease around him that used to be missing in the past. Amidst the wide-open sky, the mountain peaks, and the tall trees reflecting off the lake, he steals the show.

I imprint the wholesome picture he makes in my mind.

“Get here, Rainbow,” he says without turning around. “I can feel you watching.”

Blushing at being caught, I close the distance. Lifting the flowy skirt of my dress, I straddle his thighs. His arms go around my waist, resting proprietarily on my ass. I become highly aware of my nakedness underneath the silky material.

Ignoring it, I pass him his phone, and ask, “Would you unlock it please?”

“It’s your birthday,” he shares, stroking me.

I gape. “You know my birthday?”

“Saw it on your job contract.”

“And you remembered?”

“I love knowing everything about you.”

Biting back a smile, I unlock his phone, secretly loving that he doesn’t mind me going through it. I peruse it curiously and I’m unsurprised when I don’t see any social media apps. I know he doesn’t have an Instagram or Facebook account, but Iassumed he had an account with a fake name since he is super private.

“It seems I need to teach you a few things too,” I tease.

His eyes light up with amusement. “Yeah, what’s that?”

“For someone who has a tech and security business, you aren’t that savvy in some aspects.”

“Is that right?”

“Yep.” I smirk. “You aren’t anywhere on social media.”

“I’ve never felt the fascination.”

“Even Nova and Dash have an account,” I point out. “And they’re busy billionaires like you.”

“Their wives must’ve made them.”

“Come on, it’s fun,” I entice him. “How am I supposed to tag you on posts and stories? You should have one. You don’t even have to manage it, I’ll do it.”

“Fine. I’ll only follow you. Don’t care about anyone else.”

“Okay,” I rasp, before teasing, “and don’t worry, I’ll maintain your mysterious aura.”

“You think I’m mysterious?” he quips playfully.

“Not to me anymore. But to the rest of the world? Absolutely.”

He shakes his head in amusement.

Paying attention to his phone, I open his gallery. Except for the two pictures I sent him yesterday, there’s not a single one of him or anything else. It saddens me a little.