Ruthless Rival

"But it didn't show anything," she says.

"So you were looking?" he asks.

She blushes.

Danielle laughs. Shoots Adam her own coy look. One loaded with history.

"They won't stop," I say.

"We really won't," Briar agrees.

"Can I get you a drink?" I offer Vanessa my hand.

"Thanks." She takes it.

"We'll grab the seats," Danielle says. "Catch up when you're ready."

Liam raises a brow interesting. Shoots me a make me proud, kid look and turns to the rest of the party.

He looks between Danielle and Opal, deciding who to torture.

Settles on Danielle.

I leave them to it. Lead Vanessa to the bar.

It's only fifteen feet away, but it's in the corner, behind a half-wall. Secluded, but not especially so.

It was one of Adam's favorites before the accident. He's always appreciated privacy. But he didn't need it.

After the accident, he spent months locked in the house. He didn't leave his cage until he found Danielle.

It's a fucked-up story, but it's what Bash would want.

And Adam is getting better.

He's here, in public. He's attending the opera. He's staying in the city all weekend.

He stays most weekends.

That's progress.

That's everything.

My family is okay. Vanessa is here.

What else matters?

"Whiskey?" Vanessa runs her fingers over the bar.

She's staring at me like she wants to devour me. Why am I thinking ugly things?

"What else?" I turn all my attention to her.

Fuck, she's gorgeous. More every day.

The tight curls, the dark eyes, the long champagne dress.

A goddess.

A queen.

"Do you have a cigar this time?" she teases.

"Are you inviting me to the balcony?"

Her eyes flit to the back of the restaurant. The wide windows. "I don't see a balcony."

"If you did?"

"I would," she says.

"There isn't."

"Too bad."

Would she really sneak away for sex?

It's tempting.

Sure, this restaurant is without a balcony. But there's plenty of space in the single-stall bathroom. The hallway. The hotel across the street.

I need to touch her.

I need to watch her come.

But I need to savor it.

I can't rush it.

Her fingers brush my watch. My shirt. The cufflinks. My silk tie.

"Do you have plans for it?" I ask.

"If I did?"

Whatever they are, yes.

"If I wanted to tie you to the headboard?"

"Who says I have a headboard?"

Her laugh breaks the sexual tension. "It was in your picture." Her chest heaves with her inhale. "The four-poster bed."

"It was."

"Have you ever used it for that?"

"No," I say.

"Never?"

"Never." If a woman wants to be restrained, I'm happy to oblige. I am, above all, goal-oriented, but it's not an interest.

And I've certainly never considered allowing someone to tie me up.

If it was what Vanessa wanted—

Anything she wants, as long as I watch her come.

Is there anything better?

"Would you?" She runs her fingers over her tie. "Let me?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Are you offering?" I ask.

"One day." Her eyes flare with surprise. She didn't expect to say that.

But I don't underline it.

I let the words fall.

Sometime.

She thinks about the future.

About fucking me in the future.

"As long as I can watch," she says.

"My thoughts exactly."

"Voyeur."

"Exhibitionist."

Her chest heaves with her inhale. She turns to the bar. Hails the bartender.

He arrives quickly. Shoots her a flirtatious smile. "What can I get you, doll?"

"An Aviation," she says.

"Haven’t heard that in a while," he says.

"I know what I like," she says.

He looks to me is this guy with her. "And you, sir?"

"My friend will have a whiskey," she says. "Neat."

He looks at me that kinda guy. "Anything in particular?"

I name the brand.

"I'll have those in a minute." He shoots her that same sweet smile and turns to the shelves of liquor.

I lean close enough to whisper. "He likes you."

"He's just being friendly," she says.

"He's staring at your chest."

"You're projecting."

I do want to savor the sight of her all fucking night, but that isn't it. "He was."

"Are you jealous?" Curiosity drops into her voice. And something else. Something I can't place.

"No," I say.

"Why not?"

"You're mine tonight."

"And you're mine," she says.

I pull her closer. "Come over after the show."

"All night?"

I want her to stay the night, fall asleep in my bed, wake up in my arms. It's strange. Thrilling. "All night."

"Maybe. My guest offered their blessing. I think they want the place to themselves."

"Their blessing?"

"They don't want to be a cock-block."

"They said that?"

"They did."

They. Not she. Not he.

Some people use the pronoun now. But that's not it.

Vanessa doesn't want me to know who she has at home.

She's not inviting me into that part of her life.

That's our arrangement.

Sex.

No strings.

No feelings.

But that's not the case anymore. For either of us.

"We don't have to go to the opera," she says.

"Would you really leave?" I lean into her touch. "Go to my place? The hotel across the street? The bathroom?"

"Would you really ask?"

Not usually. Not with anyone else. With her? "Yes."

"Then ask."

"What are you wearing under that?"

"Nothing."

Fuck me.

She pulls back right as the bartender drops off our drinks.

"Thank you." She smiles politely. Wraps her fingers around her glass. Brings it to her lips. Lets out a soft groan. "Perfect."