Page 121 of The Auction
I’m going to tell him about me and Cass—but not like this. I need to talk to her first. Make sure she’s okay with it. So I play it off.
“I’m sure she’s just in her studio.”
“She needs to get out of there and do something useful.”
That makes my jaw flex. But I’m not starting shit with him right now—not before I’ve cleared it with her.
“What did you need, man? I’ve got something going on here.”
Right on cue, Cassidy notices me watching. Her lips curl into a slow smile as she starts lathering up her body, soap suds sliding over every perfect inch. My dick nearly springs out of my pants.
“Can you tell Cass I’m on my way back early? Tomorrow morning,” Jonathan says.
Inside the shower, one of her hands slides between her legs while the other pinches her breast. God, she’s a fucking siren.
“Earth to Jax,” Jonathan says, irritation creeping in.
“Yeah… sorry.”
“So, you’ll tell her?”
“Yeah, I can pass that message along.”
She turns and bends at the waist, giving me a perfect view of her ass. I nearly have to bite my knuckles to keep from groaning.
“Yeah, I’ll tell her—but I’ve gotta go.”
I hang up before he can answer, tossing my phone and the gift box onto the bed. Then I head straight for the shower.
If my little siren wants to play, I’ll be more than happy to give her a hand.
After I’ve made Cassidy fall apart twice in the shower—once with my hands, once with my mouth—I hand her a towel and tell her, “Get dressed. We’re going out. I’ve got a surprise for you.”
Suspicion flickers in her eyes, but she wraps up and heads for the bedroom. The black gift box is waiting on the bed.
She lifts the lid, pulls out the contents, and stares. “Leather pants?”
“A very special pair of pants,” I say, walking over to her. I turn them in her hands so she sees the zipper that runs a lot longer than normal. All the way to the back so they’ll open up and let me see her sweet cunt and perfect ass.
Her jaw drops. “You’re not serious.”
“Dead serious.” I lean in, brushing my mouth against her ear. “We’re making one of my fantasies come true tonight. So get dressed. We’re going for a ride.”
Thirty minutes later, we’re on my bike, the city rolling by in a blur. She’s pressed tight against me, arms locked around my waist, helmet tucked against my back. I can feel her curiosity in the way she keeps shifting, probably dying to ask where we’re going.
When I finally make the turn and pull up to the taco truck—the same one from the night before the auction—she grabs my sides and I feel her wiggling back and forth like she’s doing a little happy dance back there. I laugh under my breath, cutting the engine.
She practically bounces off the bike the second I lower the kickstand, tugging off her helmet with a look that says she’swaytoo happy to see a food truck.
We order and sit at one of the rickety little tables off to the side, this time next to each other instead of across.
We can’t stop touching.
We hold hands. I rub her thigh. She wraps her arm around my elbow and rests her head on my bicep. When our food gets here, she rests her leg over mine.
I love it.
Fuck. I loveher.
