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Barons of Torment

Page 122

by Angel Lawson

“God, you’re so good at this,” she exhales. “But I want to feel you inside.”

I stand and shove my jeans down just enough, and push into her in one smooth thrust. She’s tight and so fucking wet. I stay still for a second, forehead pressed to hers, breathing her in.

“You okay?” I ask.

She nods, eyes dark. “Don’t be gentle the whole time.”

I smile against her mouth. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

I start moving–deep, steady strokes that build into something harder. One hand braces on the desk beside her hip; the other wraps lightly around her throat, not squeezing, just holding. She likes the pressure. The reminder. But I keep control. I watch her face. I listen to every sound she makes. When she digs her nails into my shoulders, I give her more–harder, faster–but never past the line I used to cross without thinking.

“I love you,” I tell her. “So goddamn much.”

I don’t know if it’s the confession, but she tumbles over, coming with a cry, clenching around me, and the feel of it drags me over the edge with her. I bury myself deep and groan into her neck as I finish, pulsing inside her while the song continues.

“I love you, too,” she says, words muffled against my chest. I press soft kisses along her jaw, her cheek, the corner of her mouth.

Outside the station windows, the sky is starting to lighten with the first hints of morning.

Spring is coming.

I know deep down that we’re ready for whatever it brings.

34

Arianette

“You’ll be back to pick me up at three?”

“Yes,” Damon assures me, his voice steady. “You’ll be at the fine arts building in plenty of time. I can stay if you want me to.”

I shake my head. Everyone has been so busy lately. I know he needs time to get some work done. “I’m fine with Slade sticking around.” From my position on the front porch of the old bungalow that houses the Gilded Rose, I see the Shadow sitting in the Jeep by the curb, posture alert even as he pretends to scroll on his phone.

There’s a no-weapons policy at the Gilded Rose, but now that we know Amber is behind everything, I’m less worried about guns and knives than I am about sheer manipulation. She doesn’t play by anyone’s rules. That knowledge makes me feel vulnerable no matter how many eyes are watching me.

“Call us, and we’ll be right here,” he adds, like he’s reading my mind.

“Thank you.”

Damon takes my chin between his fingertips, tilting my face up to his. “Love you.”

Warm heat spreads through my chest, chasing away some of the cold that has lived under my ribs since we learned the truth about Amber. “Love you too.”

The front door opens, and Adeline’s head peeks out, her smile bright and professional. A double string of pearls hangs from her neck, and her nails are painted hot pink. “You ready, Baroness? We’ve got a lot of work to do before your performance tonight.”

Damon kisses me one more time–soft and lingering–and I follow Adeline into the house. The interior smells of lavender. Soft music plays in the background. Everything about the space is designed to soothe.

“Now,” Adeline says as she leads me down a short hallway, “after your consultation with Michelle, we created a full day experience for you. She’s still setting up, but if you want to step into the waiting room and grab a cup of tea or water, she’ll be right out.”

I nod and step into the waiting room, expecting it to be empty.

It isn’t.

Whitaker Ashby stands by the window, knees bent, bouncing gently up and down with baby JJ in his arms. The infant is nestled against his chest, one tiny fist curled into the fabric of his button-down shirt. When he notices me in the doorway, he pauses for half a second, then adjusts his hold, wrapping both arms more securely around the baby.

“Baroness,” he says, voice low so he doesn’t startle JJ. There’s an edge to his voice, one that I don’t blame him for having. There’s a chance JJ is at risk from Amber. A long shot, but she’s erratic and unpredictable.

“Oh.” I look back over my shoulder, but Adeline is already gone. “I didn’t know you were here. I can come back–”