Incentive (Infidelity Universe)

“Damn.” He rubs his clean-shaved jaw, his mouth tipping in a panty-melting smile. “You’re unbelievably—”

“Hey there, gorgeous.” Alley leans against the wall beside me. “Got a name?”

“Yep.” His eyes hold mine, gleaming with mischief and other things. Things meant just for me.

I pin my lips between my teeth.

“We were wondering,” Alley says, “if you’d be kind enough to take off your shirt.”

He steps into my space, his gaze still fastened to mine, and slides his hands along my jaw, framing my face. “I’ve been checking in on you. They hogged you in that dressing room for two hours. I didn’t like it.”

I sway in my heels, transfixed by the lips I want to kiss more than anything and the hooded gaze that falls away to stare at my mouth.

“Are you—?” Alley’s voice invades my Decker-drunk fog. “Are you two together?”

His deep brown eyes flash right before he slants his mouth across mine, devouring my sigh. Alley steps away but doesn’t go far. I tune out her whispering, close my eyes, and lose myself in his kiss.

With his body flush against mine, he plunders my mouth with an expert tongue, chasing, conquering, and staking his claim. His hand slips beneath my hair to support my neck as the other drops to the back of my thigh, his fingers stretching beneath the skirt to trace the crease between my leg and butt.

The kiss isn’t pornographic, but it thrums with raw sex and urgent need. For whatever reason, he wants me, and he’s letting me know with every sinful lick and caress. My hands find his hair as I meet every rub and swirl of his tongue, match each playful bite, and struggle to stay upright.

He tastes the way he smells. Clean, earthy, and elemental, like the atmosphere after a thunderstorm. But he kisses like a hurricane, full of force and fury and devastating power. I want him to sweep me away, damn the consequences.

Too soon, he comes up for air, leaving me wrecked, ravaged, and winded.

He suckles my bottom lip. “Laynee.”

“Decker.”

“I’m fucking crazy about you.”

“You’re definitely crazy.” I grin.

“I’m going to fuck you in this dress.”

A chorus of gasps sounds nearby.

I chuckle against his mouth. “I thought you prefer me bare-faced and wearing yoga pants?”

“Oh, I do, baby. But I’m not gonna lie. Your goddamn legs…” He groans and presses his erection against my hip. “You’ve given me a huge fucking hard-on.”

I’m seconds from blowing off the photo shoot to take care of him when the tread of sneakers hurries toward us.

“No, no, no! Not the lipstick!” The wild-eyed makeup artist shoves him to the side. “What have you done?”

He gives her a withering glare and braces his arms on the wall beside me, keeping his back to the room, presumably to hide his erection. I fight my grin, holding still as the woman repaints my lips.

“No more smudging.” She points the lip brush at him, glances at his ass for a beat too long, and marches away.

He moves back in, putting a possessive hand on my hip and a forearm on the wall above my head. The hungry look he gives me makes the room spin. I feel light-headed and reckless and eternally grateful.

With shaky fingers, I wipe the smear of frosted pink gloss from his swollen lips. “Thank you.”

“For?”

For not flirting with other women. “For respecting me.”

Vertical lines form between his eyebrows. “Is this about the Barbie bookends?”

“The Barbie…?” Oh. “Bookends come in pairs.” I spot the trio standing a few feet behind him. All slender limbs and glossy hair, they shoot envious venom in my direction. “There’s three of them.”

“I didn’t notice.” He touches his forehead to mine. “I’m wearing blinders, Laynee. You’re all I see.”

Oh, Decker. You know exactly what to say.

I smile wistfully. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Finish your photo shoot, and I’ll show you.”

CHAPTER 18

LAYNEE

For the next two hours, the cameras click, the bulbs flash, and my smile strains to the point of pain. When the photography session finally ends, I slip off the heels and carry them toward the dressing room, exhausted to the bone.

Flanked by two of my bodyguards, I reach the hall that leads to the back rooms and find Reese perched on a chair against the wall.

“Hey.” He reaches up and squeezes my hand. “You looked stunning out there. I felt sorry for the other girls who had to stand in your shadow.”

“You’re not biased or anything.” I laugh. “But thanks.” I peek down the busy hallway. “Where’s Decker?”

“I thought he was in the studio. He watched the whole thing.”

A wave of warmth floods my chest.

“Maybe he’s in the restroom,” he says. “Want me to check?”

“That’s okay. I’m going to change and wash my face. Then I’ll be ready to go.”

“The plane’s ready when you are.”

I reached the door of the dressing room, where one of my security guys stands guard. Call me paranoid, but it’s nice to see him here, preventing creepy letters or unwanted visitors from making their way inside.