“Come here.” I hold my hand out to Anjelica.
This time she comes slowly, her hips twitching and teasing me. First comes off her shirt, then she shimmies out of her skirt. I can see her years of dance training in her every movement, the way she controls each limb so precisely. She’s doing it to drive me out of mind and it’s working.
Finally, when she’s down to only her bra and panties—her shoes and stockings were gone two steps ago—she puts her hand in mine.
The connection is electric. I tighten my grip, pull her close. Her breasts bob and her thighs quiver as she does, pure gorgeousness in motion.
I drop her hand and reach for her bra, but she slips away.
“No.” There’s heat and playfulness in her tone. “You have to get undressed. Now.”
A smile twitches at the corner of my mouth. “You’re giving orders?”
“You like it.”
I reach for the hem of my T-shirt. “I do.” I pull it off. “But I’m still going to make you pay for it.”
She’s not listening to what I’m saying; she’s wide-eyed as she stares at my chest. One hand lifts, like she wants to touch but can’t quite let herself yet.
So I shuck off my pants and boxers.
This time she doesn’t hold back. Her hands run over all of me, her breath coming in heavy pants. Even more than her touch, the way she’s looking at me is inflaming. Like she’s waited as long and as hard as I have for this moment.
I anchor my hand at the back of her head and tilt her face up, kissing her with an urgency I can’t control. All my life I’ve held back, held my emotions in check, but she’s smashed all those walls. And with only the slightest flick of her hand.
Her graceful, glorious hands, which are pressed into my chest, her fingers teasing my nipples. I groan into her mouth, my cock painfully hard.
She slips out of my grip, then drops to her knees. The look she gives me from under her lashes almost pushes me over the edge.
“Wait,” I grit out. “Your bra, panties.” I help her up, then quickly finish undressing her. Her phoenix bursts out from between her breasts, its fiery heart calling for my touch.
I cup her breasts, my thumbs finding her nipples. She lifts her chest into my touch, and the phoenix looks as if it’s about to fly. I bend my head to taste her, her warm skin, tight nipples. She winds her fingers in my hair, holding me hard to her.
I slip an arm around her waist and take her weight, suckling her nipple deep. I can feel her thighs brushing my hip, her lower half bucking against me.
With my free hand, I reach between her legs. “Goddamn,” I hiss. “You’re so wet and hot. And your clit…” I trace the swollen bud of it and she moans, tipping her pussy up and toward my touch.
She’s so close. I work at her folds, rubbing her clit, catching the wild rhythm of her hips. Her juices coat my fingers, my palm, and even touch my wrist. My God, but she’s amazing.
“Wait.” She shakes her head, pushes against my shoulders. “You’re distracting me.”
Although it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done, I pull my hand from between her thighs. Moisture gleams on my skin and hers. “What’s wrong?” I’m clenching my jaw so hard I can barely get that out. My cock is even harder than my jaw.
“I’m going to suck your cock.” She’s staring at me so intently it’s a wonder I don’t come right there and then. “And you can’t stop me.”
Jesus, as if I’d ever even try after she said that. I raise my hands and lean back ever so slightly. “I surrender.”
“That’s right.” She goes to her knees with studied deliberation, and the way she holds my gaze the entire time is mind-blowing.
By the time she wraps her hand around the base of my cock, my thighs are shaking. Her grip is confident, and when she looks up at me, she licks her lips.
Holy. Fuck.
I’m still in shock when her mouth closes around my cock. And then I’m in heaven.
She sucks lightly at first, then harder, her tongue working against the underside of my cock. The head nudges the back of her throat and I have to close my eyes, clench my teeth. I force myself to pull back, just a bit.
Anjelica decides differently though. She grabs my ass and pulls me deeper into her mouth.
I start to thrust, slowly at first, then deeper, faster. She’s making these sort of humming moans, like my dick is the best thing she’s ever had in her mouth and she can’t get enough.
I can’t get enough. It’s the most amazing sensation, her hot mouth wrapped around my cock, her tongue stroking me, her nails digging into my ass. I try to hold back, to hold on to this moment and the pleasure as long as I can, but it’s too much. My climax is boiling through me, pulling my balls tight and shooting through my cock like a lightning storm.
While she’s still on her knees, Anjelica wipes her mouth like she’s never been so satisfied. But I know she could be even better satisfied.
I grab her and sling her over my shoulder in a fireman’s lift. She squeals and I take the time to admire the tattoos on the sweet swells of her ass. There’s a naughty pinup girl with her breasts bare who’s winking at me on one cheek and a four-leaf clover on the other. Fun, happy images—cheeky, you might say.
I deposit her on the bed, and before she can get any ideas, I grab her ankles and pull her so that her ass is on the edge of the mattress. I spread her knees wide and have to take a minute. She’s beautiful all over of course, but the pink folds of her, flushed and swollen and wet, are flooring me. I think this view is always going to stun me each and every time I see it.
Then I lower my head, settling my face between her thighs. I inhale deeply, because there’s nothing like the scent of Anjelica’s arousal. Musky, sharp, and as gorgeous as the rest of her.
She squirms as I kiss my way up her thigh, taking my time with both the right and the left. The scent of her arousal sharpens until it’s all I can breathe in.
When I taste those sweet folds, she makes a noise I can’t describe. Like she’s been waiting for this her entire life but she also can’t take it another moment. So I lick again, lovingly tracing each and every fold, circling her clit until her thighs clamp down hard.
I can hear the rustle of the sheets as she thrashes on the bed. I increase my pace, flicking at her clit, shoving my tongue deep, teasing the most sensitive parts of her.
Her hips lift, grinding her pussy against my mouth. She comes with a rush I can taste, her pleasure spreading over my tongue, my lips, my jaw.
She’s not even fully released from her climax when she scrabbles at my shoulders, trying urgently to pull me up her body.
“Now please.” She’s almost sobbing.
I kiss her, lightly, gently, even though I feel the same urgency. I don’t want to hurt her. “I’m here. We need—”
“Condoms.” She sweeps a hand toward a side table. “Top drawer. Put them in this morning.”
“You’re a genius.” I keep it together long enough to get the condom on, but when I see her spread out on the bed, breasts high, hair tangled, her pussy gleaming from her release, my control snaps.
I climb up her, trailing my mouth over her hot skin. When I reach her mouth, I claim it. Her legs come around my waist, her hips tilt up to welcome me… and I plunge deep. Come home.
Her pussy clenches around me and my cock pulses in reply. I came not more than five minutes ago, but already another, bigger orgasm is building.
I force myself to slow down. She has to come first, which means I need to get control of the climax building in me. But it’s so fucking hard because she feels so good. Better than any dream I ever had of her, and there were a lot.
I reach down to find her clit. As soon as I touch it, she’s clenching rhythmically around me, little broken sounds coming from her throat.
She’s already coming again, and now so am I.
Once my limbs are back from Orgasm Land, I take care of the condom, then slip back into bed.
Somehow we roll together
as I slide in, the sheets twisted around us, sweat cooling on our skin. Anjelica shivers as I pull her into my arms.
“Cold?” I try to tug up the blanket, but it’s pinned somehow.
She shakes her head. “No, not at all. It was… I don’t know what that was. I’ve never felt anything like that.”
“Me either.” I settle her so she’s covering more of my chest. The blanket comes loose then, so I tuck both of us in.
“Thank you,” she says. “For being there for me today.”
Something spiked wriggles free and goes careening through my chest. “I didn’t do anything.” My protest is mostly out of habit.
“You did, and I appreciate it. I know that wasn’t easy for you.”
“It wasn’t easy for you either.”
“No, it wasn’t.” Sleep is thickening her tone. “But see how much better it was when we did it together?”
I can’t argue with that, not even if I wanted to.
Chapter 21
As happy as I was to be invited into Dev’s apartment, I’m glad we’re spending the night at my place.
I step out of my own shower, grab my special microfiber hair towel, dry off and use my own face cream, and study myself in the mirror. I’ve got all my tools here, and I can do my face and hair the way I like. Achieving my look doesn’t happen in a man’s bathroom.
I pull on my bathrobe and get to work. I start by blow-drying my hair. Setting my hair requires a dry, blank canvas. Ideally, I’d wait a day between washing to set, but I can work with this.
Once that’s done, I head into the bedroom and sit down at my vanity. I’ve always dreamed about having a space like this, with the perfect lighting, outside the bathroom, with a place for all my hair products and makeup. Out of everything in my house, this space feels the most luxurious to me.
Dev sits up in the bed. He’s bare chested, and the sight of those lean muscles and dark, wiry hair makes my mouth go dry. I got to sleep with that last night.
I want to sleep with that every night.
I’ve always wanted to sleep with him, but now that I have, the wanting is a craving. Deeper than a need.
Maybe it’s time to reassess my reaction to him. Dev really is making strides toward becoming what I know he can be. He’s made the first moves with Finn—only four more Bastards to go. Maybe once he’s done there, we can work on expanding his circle even further.
And I can keep helping him. He needs me, he really does. And I need him.
I shiver, a bone-deep shudder, and I remember that I’m only in a bathrobe. First I’ll fix my makeup and hair. Then I can continue fixing Dev.
I take my hair out of the towel and start to section it. I won’t do anything too elaborate today, just a simple set.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“I’m setting my hair.” I grab the setting lotion and spray the section of hair I’ve got isolated. With quick motions, I roll the hair up and pin the roller in place. “I curl it, then brush out the curls into the style I want.”
“Can I watch? I had no idea how your hair worked.”
I smile to myself in the vanity mirror. “Most people don’t. Setting curls is kind of a lost art.”
He watches intently as I work through the rest of my hair. I know he’s never going to need to set his hair, so I find his interest sweetly touching. He’s watching because it’s important to me.
When I’m done, I look at him in the mirror. “That’s it.”
He’s impressed. “Wow. And now what?”
“I sit under the bonnet dryer for a while, and then I brush it out. That’s in the other room though.”
“I see.” He stretches, and his skin ripples over his muscles. “I should get a shower while you’re doing that.”
I can only nod, because this all feels so domestic. Like we’ve always been a couple and this is what we do. We’ve fallen into this so easily it almost scares me.
Almost, because it mostly feels amazing.
I’ve set up the bonnet dryer in the dining room so that I have space to work while my hair dries. I tuck everything under the white cap, turn the dryer on, and open my laptop.
But I can’t focus on work. I keep thinking about the USB key and Fuchs’s office and where the hell he might be hiding.
I keep thinking we need to go back to the beginning. That what we want to find isn’t here at all.
I grab my bag from the chair next to me and rummage through it until I find the list of addresses I made of all the Corvus properties. Running through it again, I linger on all the ones we marked as being especially interesting. Some here in the Bay Area—and there’s Hanult’s house there—some overseas. And that one in Poland, that’s the property with the pear tree.
Out of pure curiosity, I call up Google Maps on my phone and pull up the address. The street view shows what was there when we went—the end of the street and the pear tree with the fence around it. The pear tree is in bloom in the picture.
This time I look behind the tree. There’s a high hedge blocking everything from sight. Like whatever is behind the tree is being purposefully shielded from the street.
I zoom out on the map, going to the satellite view. Behind the hedge is a house. There’s nothing special about it, but it seems the hedge goes all the way around, blocking it from every line of sight.
An itch begins to build in my brain. I recognize this need for privacy, this obsession with not being seen.
I zoom in on the satellite view, looking for details of the house. There’s a car in the driveway, black and sleek. I can’t quite tell from here, but it looks expensive. I scroll through the grounds of the house. There’re poles every few yards with something atop all of them.
I squint at them. Are those security cameras? I can’t really tell. The itch in my brain builds.
“Dev.” I don’t call very loudly, but I hear him moving in the bedroom immediately.
“What is it?” He comes over quickly, the concern in his voice sharp. He smells like my shampoo. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” I point to the phone screen. “This is the property Fuchs owns in Poland. There’s the pear tree, but the address is actually all this.”
Dev takes the phone from me. “He owns this?”
“According to the records, yes. Who do you think lives there?”
“Maybe no one. Maybe he keeps it empty.”
“But there’s a car. An expensive one.”
Dev looks up and our gazes lock. “We were right there.”
I swallow hard. “Right. And he might have been too.”
“Son of a bitch,” Dev says softly. “Son of a fucking bitch.”
“If he was there the whole time…” I sit back in the chair. “After all this…”
Dev sets the phone down. “If he was, you’re a genius. You knew where he was all along.”
“But I didn’t. This is just a guess.”
“So far your guesses have been pretty damn good.” He looks around. “Where’s my phone? We need to get the jet ready. And you’ll need to pack.”
“We’re going right now?”
“Why wait?”
I suppose he’s right—he’s got a jet, so why not use it?
Just a few hours later, we’re in the air. Dev’s made some calls, and a car will be waiting for us at the airport. And we’ve just had the most amazing snack on the plane, a charcuterie board and champagne that was the exact right amount of food.
“Should I prepare the bedroom?” the flight attendant asks.
As many times as I’ve been on the jet, I’ve never used the bedroom before. I catch Dev’s eye, suddenly feeling very, very wicked. I’ve also never joined the mile-high club.
He nods to the attendant. “We could use some sleep.”
The way he looks at me though says that sleep is the last thing on his mind.
The bedroom is amazing, with a king-sized bed fitted with sage-green sheets. It looks like you could have the best sleep of your life i
n this bed.
“We won’t need anything until we’re over Europe,” Dev says to the attendant. Meaning don’t bother us for several hours.
“Of course.” The attendant shuts the door behind him when he leaves.
I’m in Dev’s arms the moment after. We kiss with urgency but also exhilaration.
“Have you ever done this before?” I ask.
“Sex on the jet? No.”
“You’ve never even been tempted?”
He goes still. “Anjelica… since I met you, there’s been no one. And I mean no one.”
I take that in. “You mean not even like for a night?”
He tilts his head as if he doesn’t understand. “When I met you, that was it. Forever.”
“This entire time you…” I can hardly believe it. Dev is so handsome, so sexy—surely somewhere, sometime, a woman had taken advantage of that. Lord knows I wanted to.
“Yes.” He brings my palm to his mouth, kisses the center. “The entire time.”
I don’t know what to say. It’s like finding out you’ve been the heroine in a fairy tale without even knowing it. The prince has loved you and only you the entire time.
“Dev.” I can only whisper his name because this is so enormous. “I had no idea.”
Or maybe… maybe I did. Maybe I hoped. I never tried to set him up with anyone, and each time he came to some event alone, a small corner of my heart rejoiced. When he never mentioned a girlfriend or even any dates, I let that small corner hold on to its hope.
“It wasn’t something I could bring up in a partners’ meeting,” he says dryly. He tugs up my skirt. “We’ll have to be quiet, you know.”
His fingers skim the curls between my thighs, and I start to pant. Already my pussy is hot and achy, and he hasn’t even done anything.
He shakes his head as if I’ve disappointed him. “We have to be discreet.” His thumb brushes my clit and I moan. “Clothes on, no noise.”
My head falls back as he fingers me harder, my pussy clenching. “I don’t think I can,” I get out.
“Mmm.” He slips a finger inside me, crooking it against the most wonderful spot. “I think I know how to keep you quiet.”
Private Disclosures Page 15