Page 81 of The Auction
I’m not even pretending to finish the pancakes. My arms feel heavy, my chest still rising and falling too fast.
He finally pulls his hand free, turning me around and I watch in dazed disbelief as he slips his fingers into his mouth, eyes locked on mine. He moans like I’m the best thing he’s ever tasted. “So sweet,” he murmurs. “Just like I knew you’d be.”
He leans down like he’s about to kiss me. My pulse jumps so hard I swear he can hear it.
I tilt my head without thinking, eyes heavy-lidded from the orgasm still humming through me. My mouth parts, my breath catches. God, I want him to.
But he pauses there—close enough that I can feel the heat of him, smell the faint mix of coffee and soap andhim. His eyes flick down to my mouth, linger there, and then… he pulls back. Slowly. Smirking like the devil.
“Thanks for breakfast,” he teases, reaching past me to grab a plate. He piles on pancakes, drizzling syrup like I wasn’t just moaning out his name seconds ago.
I grab a hand towel and snap it against his arm. “Wash your hands first.”
“Not a fucking chance,” he says, eyes glinting with wicked amusement. “I’m going to smell your sweet pussy on my fingers all day, Cricket. Because you were delicious.”
My jaw drops, my whole body lighting up all over again.
He just winks and strolls toward his office, leaving me standing there—burning just like the forgotten pancake still smoking on the stove.
She’s been buried in that studio I put together for her since the day she opened the door. I’d like to say I’m annoyed she spends so much time in there, but the truth is—I love that she loves it.
Whatever’s on that massive canvas, it’s got her whole attention. She won’t let me see it, won’t even give me a hint. Says she never shows anyone her paintings which makes me want to walk in there even more.
A knock comes to the door, and my building concierge carries in a package. “For Miss Hayes,” he says.
Shanae told her about it earlier this morning and she said she’s pick it up in a few days. I sent someone from the building to get it for her.
When I carry it into the living room, she looks at it, then at me. “That seems like a waste,” she says, taking the box.
“Do you know how much I pay to live here?” I arch a brow. “They would literally help me commit murder if I asked with aWill there be anything else, Mr. Kane?when we were done.
She shakes her head, smiling faintly, but when she looks down and sees some fancy crest on the side of the box, her expression changes. Tightens.
It’s from her brother.
Her stomach visibly sinks, and that puts me on alert immediately. I watch as she opens it, pulling out neatly folded shirts, a necklace, all marked with the same crest.
“Is this Jon’s new business partner or something?” I ask, already feeling the itch of curiosity.
Her answer is short. “Or something.”
I study her. “Why do you two got beef all of a sudden?”
Her gaze flicks up to mine, and there’s a hardness there that wasn’t before. “This isn’t new. He’s always been an asshole to me.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask the question carefully knowing I’m pushing into territory she’d like to keep me out of.
Without answering, she dumps everything back into the box, carries it to the kitchen, and drops it straight into the trash.
“I’m going into the studio,” she says, already walking away.
I let her go for now. But I’m not done.
I send off a text to Jon to see if he can talk, then I drive fifteen minutes to the gym where Lucian is already on a bag like it owes him money.
Lucian is owner of The Black Ledger, king of his own empire, and one of the only people I’ll get in the ring with for fun.
Eve’s here too, sitting in a chair and rubbing both breasts.
