Page 46 of Sugar (Gilded #1)

Billable Hours

EASTON

I wasn’t going to make it until we got home.

I wasn’t even sure if I was going to make it out of the building. My dick ached, and the way Maddie continued to wiggle on my lap didn’t help.

She knew what she was doing, too.

Unlike when we’d visited Gilded two weeks prior, she wasn’t sitting on the cushion at my feet. We’d started the night with her there, but I was a pathetic fuck who needed her closer.

Especially when I was being forced to share her.

Not physically. I would have to represent myself on murder charges if someone touched what was mine.

Seeing her share her smiles and laughter with Cohen and Atlas was pushing it for me.

She’d bonded with the former over a love of raunchy comedies from the seventies, but she was happy, so I dealt with it.

I just did so by discreetly touching her as often as possible so she remembered who she belonged to.

I gave the gold cuffs around her wrists a little tug in warning, but Maddie didn’t heed it. She rolled her hips as she repositioned herself again.

Atlas must’ve noticed because he nudged his brother. “We should leave them to enjoy their night.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Cohen shook his head and shared a conspiratorial look with Maddie. “He never lets me torture people. Even if it’s just by forcing them into unending conversation while their man is touching them.”

Maddie’s eyes widened when she realized that he was not only aware of what was happening beneath the table, but that he was actively working to extend her torture.

He’s a good friend .

“But he’s right,” Cohen said as he stood. “I need to make a lap and share these good looks with the room. Speaking of… Reservation?”

“Seven,” I said.

“You’ll get a text when it’s ready.”

Atlas gestured down to Maddie’s empty glass on the table but addressed me. “She having another one?”

“Yes.” I glanced down at her. “And a glass of champagne.”

Her breath caught, and she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.

A lip I now knew was even more fuckable than in my fantasies.

The other men walked away before she seemed to find her words. “What’s at seven?”

“Not what. Where . Room seven is where I’m about to fuck you because there’s no way in hell I’m making it home.”

Her lips parted and her pretty blue eyes went huge, but she didn’t object. If anything, she looked ready to drag me down the hall herself.

My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I thought it was about the room.

Thank Christ.

But when the vibration continued to signify it was a call rather than a text, I pulled it free to hit decline. If it was an emergency, I would have to step outside anyway. Otherwise, the only person I was interested in talking to was already in my arms.

But I was wrong.

Tripp’s name ran across the screen.

I hit accept, and the sound of laughter and screaming and thumping music was so loud, I wasn’t sure he would be able to hear me. “Hello?”

“I’m having a party,” a deep voice slurred.

“So I hear.”

“I figured you were with your girlfriend, so I didn’t invite you.”

“You’d be correct, so that’s fine.”

“I’m having a party,” he repeated.

“I think it’s also time you had some coffee, buddy. Is Alex there to make you some?”

Alex was his newest personal assistant. I was pretty sure he’d met that one at the gym. Or maybe a party? I wasn’t sure and didn’t care enough to learn.

They never lasted long.

“He’s getting laid somewhere around here,” Tripp said. “I want him to leave.”

“Tell him that.”

“I want everyone to leave.” His voice grew louder. “Hey. Get the hell out of my house.”

There was a ripple of laughter, but the music and conversation continued.

I held the phone between my ear and shoulder as I unlatched the cuffs from around Maddie’s wrist. “I’m on my way to clear them out for you, okay?”

“I’m not going to ruin your Saturday night.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. I hear the music. You’re at Gilded, aren’t you? You don’t need to rescue me from a party that I didn’t even invite you to.”

“It’s fine,” I repeated as we stood and headed for the exit. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Just hang out. Let me be the bad guy.”

“This is pathetic. I’m pathetic. Poor little rich guy needs his lawyer to rescue him from a good time. Argggg.” Tripp inhaled sharply. “Forget I called. Seriously. Go enjoy your woman.”

There was a splash and then a few loud beeps to let me know the call failed.

“Is he okay?” Maddie asked as we started up the spiral staircase.

“He’s drunk. Probably high. And annoyed.”

“That’s not a good combination.”

“No, it’s not.”

Especially if he takes that irritation out on his guests, and they film it.

Once we were in the car, I rested my hand on Maddie’s thigh. I didn’t miss her tremble. “Sorry our night got messed up, guppy.”

“Don’t apologize,” she said with a soft, worried smile. “There will be other nights.”

A whole lifetime of them if I get my way.

As I drove, she swapped between checking my phone for more messages and scrolling the social media feeds for any hint that things had taken a viral turn. “Nothing yet.”

“Good. We’re almost there.” I turned into the partially obstructed entrance and followed the winding road up to his house in the hills.

He needs to be smarter about who he shares his address with.

That thought became a hundred times more pertinent when we reached the end of the driveway.

“This place looks like a glass display case made a wish to be a mansion,” Maddie said with a grimace.

She wasn’t wrong.

On a good day, the boxy mansion would probably earn a spread in some architectural magazine. The entirety of it was an abundance of windows, functionless details, and meticulous landscaping.

Usually.

But it wasn’t a good day.

It was a fucking disaster.

Cars were parked all over the place—including one in the tall hedgerow that lined the property. There were deep divots in the grass from tires tearing through. Garbage, empty cups, and alcohol bottles were littered across the path and porch.

“It’s a miracle these gleaming windows are still standing,” I noted.

Right then, the front door shattered to leave only the frame still standing.

“Promise me you’ll use that power for good and not evil,” Maddie said.

“No promises.” I looked at her. I was tempted to tell her to lock herself in the car, but I didn’t want her out of my sight. Especially if some drunk asshole decided that my car looked like a good one to jack. “Stick with me. Once we find Tripp, work your magic to get some coffee into him.”

“My magic?”

“The way you wrap everyone around your little finger.”

“You included?”

“Particularly me. I have the control, but you have all the power, mine. You know that.”

She didn’t seem to know that, but she faked haughtiness anyway. “It’s still good to hear. Let’s go bust up a party.”

Climbing out, I rounded the car and kept a tight hold on her as we walked up the driveway. I made eye contact with the drunk who’d busted the door. “Unless you want to be arrested for that property damage, get the fuck out.”

His bleary eyes blinked at me. “Who the fuck are you to tell me what to do?”

“DEA agent. Here with a warrant to search the property for drugs.”

He didn’t question it.

He was too busy running.

Thankfully, he did it through the house as he shouted, “Cops. DEA. Drugs !”

He could’ve lit the damn place on fire, and it wouldn’t have been as effective at clearing it out. The people inside, at least.

The backyard was still packed with party crashers. Someone played DJ with a MacBook connected to the built-in speakers under the stone gazebo. People danced along the edge of the pool and in the grass.

I glanced sideways before doing a double take at the three bodies intertwined. The lone male wasn’t Tripp, but he was the next best thing. “Alex.”

He separated from the tangle of limbs. “Easton? Er, I mean, Mr. Wells. What’re you doing here?”

“Where’s Tripp?”

He shrugged. “He was inside playing strip foosball earlier.”

Of course he was.

“Isn’t it your job to keep watch of him, not drink his expensive tequila and fuck on his patio furniture?” I bit out, ignoring the slashing motion he made across his throat.

He kept his tone low and his words vague. “My job is to keep him happy.” He gestured around. “That’s what I did.”

“Wait.” The blonder of the two blondes shot a suspicious glare at him. “Why would that be your job? You said you had some pull at a studio.”

“I do,” he blustered.

“Does that mean you can’t get us auditions?” the other pouted.

I cut in, not because I cared about them, but because Alex’s incompetence shouldn’t be rewarded. “The only pull he has is to get you extra dressing on your salad. He’s a personal assistant.”

With a drink dumped over his head and some creative insults, his companions stomped off into the night. Since I had more important things to deal with, I grabbed Maddie’s hand and moved toward the gazebo to get a better vantage point.

She waited until we were closer to the DJ before she loudly asked, “So you’re a DEA agent? What’s that even mean?”

The song cut off abruptly and the sound of sirens blared from the speakers as the man yelled, “Po-po!”

The sirens only lasted another second before he and his MacBook took off around the house.

“I’m old, and even I know people don’t say that anymore,” I grumbled, scanning the fleeing masses.

“Maybe he locked himself upstairs…” Maddie started before tugging my sleeve. “Or maybe not.”

I followed her line of sight to see that Tripp was on an oversized float in the pool—clothes and all. None of the party attendees stopped to say goodbye or help or even acknowledge their host as they abandoned him.

“Evening, Officer,” he greeted with a flick-of-the-wrist wave.

One that toppled the inflatable and him.

Shit.

I wasn’t sure how fucked up he was, so Maddie and I pushed through the crush of people escaping the imaginary cops. When we neared the pool, Tripp was holding on to the ledge.

And I got the feeling that was both literal and figurative.

I crouched in front of him. “Hey, man. Little late for a swim, don’t you think?”

“Ice baths in the morning, drunken swims at midnight. The things we stars do to slow the aging process.” He took my outstretched hand but didn’t let me pull him out.

The water might’ve temporarily sobered him, but guilt and sadness mixed with whatever he’d taken, leaving him a fucked-up mess. “I didn’t want to see you.”

“That’s okay,” I tried to reassure him. If he was pissed at me, we would figure it out. Or, more likely, he would sober up and get over it.

He didn’t agree. “I knew you would bring Maddie, and you both would be happy. In love and happy. I didn’t want that in my face. I’m fucking lonely, man. All these people, and I’m fucking lonely.”

Christ.

I didn’t bother to point out that he wouldn’t be lonely if he stopped picking up sycophants, hangers-on, and gold-diggers. That was a conversation for when he was in a better mindset.

“That’s okay,” I repeated. “But Maddie is going to take you inside for some coffee while I clear everyone else out.”

“I’m sorry.” He finally let me pull him from the water, and he looked behind me. “Sorry, Maddie.”

She waved off his apology with nothing but concern softening her pretty face. “It’s okay. And call me Mads,” she tacked on.

“What the fuck?” I scowled at her. “You’ve never said I could call you Mads.”

“You’re a tyrant.”

“Yeah,” Tripp said as he shook the water from his hair. “You are a tyrant.”

I transferred my forced glare to him. “These just became billable hours.”