Page 20 of Never Dance with the Devils (Never Say Never #6)

RIGGS

W hen the doorbell rings, Maddox and I jump up from our spots on the two couches in the living room where we’ve been eyeing the front door for the last thirty minutes of impatient waiting. “She’s here,” he says.

I try not to laugh. He looks like a kid who just saw Santa Claus. “No shit.”

I’m putting up a good front of ‘couldn’t care less’, but I’m rushing for the door the same way he is, volleying for position with elbows out to get there first. Maybe we’re both trying to be first. In the end, he beats me, flashing a quick grin of victory before opening the door.

“Hello. Welcome. Howdy. How do you do?” he says, holding out an arm to invite her inside.

Has he lost the one brain cell he possesses? It’s possible. Is he nervous? That’s more likely. But that only makes me more tense. If Mr. Perpetually Optimistic thinks this has the potential to implode, chances are good to certain that it’s going to blow up in our faces.

I watch as her eyes look over Maddox and then me. “ Hey,” I say by way of greeting, much cooler than Maddox’s too-eager verbal attack. Her gaze drifts past me to the house beyond.

“Is this your house? Or one of yours?” She looks confused about whom she’s asking.

“It’s both of ours,” Maddox offers.

“It’s not as weird as it sounds,” I add. “It just made financial sense.” Maddox glares at me, his lips pressed into a thin line, and I shrug, mouthing, “What?”

We definitely discussed the financial benefits of buying a home together before doing it, though we both know there’s more to it than that. But I’m trying to keep from scaring Kayla off.

Maddox seems to be taking another approach.

Knowing him, it’s something like charm and bullshittery because he leans in close as he tells Kayla, “We have our own suites on opposite sides of the house. I’d be happy to give you a tour…

if you’d like to come inside, said the spider to the fly.

” Because yeah, she’s still standing in the doorway like she’s undecided about this.

Her answering smile is easy, unlike the woman before us.

But I think her unapproachable, unattainable, arm’s length difficultness is what I like about her.

I never would’ve thought I’d want a challenge and enjoy the chase.

I’m more a ‘what you see is what you get’ sort, but with Kayla, I just want her. However she comes.

As she walks in the door, Maddox and I each take a moment to look her up and down while she gets her bearings. “You look beautiful,” Maddox praises.

She does. Her blonde hair is softly curled, her lips are glossy pink, and her skin glows with some sort of magic.

She’s wearing a pale blue, form-fitted dress that ends a few inches shy of her knees, a pair of nude stiletto heels, gold jewelry at her ears and throat, and she’s holding a brown clutch.

She looks like old money royalty, not only because of her outfit, but in the way she carries herself as she examines the foyer, setting her purse down on the table there.

She’s several ranks out of our league. Hell, I don’t think she’s even in the same game as us, but here she is.

“Thank you.”

For all her manners and refined elegance, Maddox and I might as well be stray dogs sniffing around her and getting more and more riled up as the smell of her floral perfume wafts into our noses.

Fuck, I’ve missed this and the few minutes in her office wasn’t nearly enough.

I’m under no disillusionment that tonight will satisfy this urge toward her that’s riding me hard, but it’s a start.

If we don’t blow it.

“Come on, we’ll show you around,” I grunt. I’m trying my best here, and that’s my attempt toward politeness. I pair the effort with a respectful grasp of her hand, leading her into the living room.

Behind us, I hear Maddox mumbling under his breath. “Settle down. Charm her, don’t attack her.” Surprisingly, it sounds like he’s talking to himself, not giving me a much-needed reminder.

At least I know I’m not the only one feeling desperate to get back inside Kayla. But if he’s the charmer and struggling that much, we might be fucked. God knows, I’m not the one to act right. I’ll probably have her hair-flipping out of here before we open the wine.

But I try, leaning toward Kayla to stage-whisper, “ He’s trying to be gentlemanly, and of the two of us, he’s definitely better at it.”

“You seem to be doing well,” she tells me, looking from my face to our entwined hands where I’m gently running my thumb along her knuckles.

Using that connection, I quickly tug her in close, her chest slamming into mine.

My voice low and rough between us, I say, “If it were up to me, we’d bend you over the couch, push that pretty dress up, and fuck you before dinner to remind you how good we can be if you’d quit fighting us.

” She gasps, the light in her eyes sparkling.

I lower my lips to her ear. “But the chef we hired is supposed to be really good, so we should probably eat dinner first because if I get between your legs again, I’m not coming up for air, and you’ll need some fuel for what we’re gonna do to you.

” I let my other hand slide down her side to take a handful of her tight ass, squeezing her firmly.

Kayla’s mouth drops open in shock. I don’t think people talk to her like that, which is exactly why I’m doing it. I like that look of surprise in her eyes, and I really enjoy seeing her mouth falling wide open. It gives me ideas about what to fill it with.

I lift her chin with the touch of my finger, closing her mouth for her. “We can wait… unless you need it now,” I offer.

Maddox steps up behind her, sandwiching her between us, and threads his hand into the hair at the nape of her neck. Pulling her head back slightly, he teases his nose along her temple and then rumbles in her ear, “What do you want, Kayla? Say it. We’ll give it to you.”

Her body goes soft for the tiniest of seconds and I think I know her answer. My dick certainly thinks he knows and is rock hard in my slacks, pressed against her belly, and I’d bet she can feel Maddox’s against her back.

She straightens suddenly, standing on her own and not leaning on either of us.

“Dinner smells delicious, and far be it from me to disrespect the chef by delaying our meal.” She steps away, putting a foot of distance between her and us and giving us a smile that is pure devilment.

She’s enjoying this, tormenting and teasing us.

And though my dick complains, I’m enjoying it too.

“Then what happened?” Maddox asks Kayla, refilling her red wine.

Our dinner was as delicious as promised, the chef has long gone, and now we’re sitting around the dining table, talking. It feels comfortable, like the magic from before was real and has carried over, something I was afraid I’d made up or that wouldn’t feel the same without the semi-anonymity.

She lifts her glass in appreciation, then goes on with her story, still laughing.

“They went through with it! Can you believe that? Fake dating arrangement and all, he and Luna showed up to the Cartwright estate with a stupid, albeit cute, dog in tow. And like it always does for golden-boy Carter, it worked out.” She shakes her head in disbelief.

“He privately manages Elena Cartwright’s investments now and Luna takes care of her art collection. ”

Maddox chuckles. “I’d say it more than worked out.”

“So, it’s only you and Cameron at Blue Lake?” I ask, making mental notes about her family like I’m studying tapes of an upcoming playoff opponent on the way to the Cup.

So far, I’ve gathered that Carter and Luna fell in love through a fake dating scenario, Cameron and Kayla both work at Blue Lake, staying out of each other’s way while trying to best their father’s legacy, Cole is Kayla’s twin and is apparently a bit terrifying (which is laughable considering she’s also scary as hell), Chance is some sort of do-gooder, buttoned-down, Boy Scout type, and Kyle is renovating his house, adding a dog wash station and a water bubbler to further spoil his already-spoiled dog.

Kayla has been regaling us with stories about her family, who seem to be the most important people in her life, given they’re all she’s talked about.

No work, no friends, no favorite sports team, just various stories of her family.

They’re her whole circle, her reason for being, her everything.

In some ways, I get it. Maddox and I have to be super careful about who we let into our inner circle too, especially since history has proven that to some people, we’re not much more than a ticket to a life they want.

I’m sure that’s even more so the case when your last name is Harrington, like Kayla’s.

There’s no ‘meeting someone random at Starbuck’s and becoming besties’ when you’re the walking, talking embodiment of rich and powerful.

Even so, she’s been very open with us, almost as though her deepest, most important need is a connection outside of her tightknit group. Or maybe just a different type of connection.

Of course, it was awkward at first, but Maddox did the heavy lifting of getting Kayla and me out of our shells and keeping the conversation going about something other than sex, which was difficult when Kayla kept moaning at how good everything tasted, especially the chocolate mousse dessert Maddox slipped her a taste of…

from his tongue. I had said—completely seriously—that I knew something that tasted better and I’d been craving it for months.

Kayla had blushed at first, but she came back strong, telling me to be a good boy and maybe I’d get a treat.

It'd nearly done both Maddox and me in. So, carrying on a normal conversation is a serious win in my book.