Unexpected Love

Where the fuck was Layne? She was supposed to be watching over Penelope and reporting back to me. The sound of my phone vibrating broke through the haze of anger and reminded me that I’d been ignoring it. Shit. I stalked over to the table and snatched my phone. Yup. Layne had been trying to call, and I had about twenty missed texts from her.

“I…”

I stopped staring at my phone and looked up when I heard the timid note in her voice. She bit her lip, her blue eyes shifting nervously.

“I know it’s a huge imposition, but would you mind if I hung out here? Just until Mallory comes home?” I should’ve said no. I should have pawned her off on one of my married friends or had Layne remove the fucker from Mallory’s place and stay with Penelope until morning. Or I could have simply let her wait in the den until Mallory returned.

Instead, I shook my head and closed the space between us. “You’re not going back there tonight.” Holding out one hand, palm up, I waited for her to place hers in mine. Without hesitation—which made me extremely happy—she accepted my assistance and got to her feet. The sparks that emanated from where our skin touched induced tingling in my balls and cock. Before she could take one step, I bent over until we were eye level and held her gaze intently as I spoke. “You’re never a bother, angel. Never an imposition. Do you understand?” Penelope’s cheeks dusted with pink, and she nodded. “Good. Now, I don’t want you traipsing around this time of night, especially when you’re wearing that.” I glowered as I gestured up and down her delicious body.

She frowned as she looked down at her clothing. “What? I’m completely covered up.”

I growled and tugged her close. Calling myself seventeen types of idiot, I ignored my brain and slid a hand over her hip and around to cup one firm, round butt cheek. “These things leave nothing to the imagination, angel.” I flexed my hand and smirked when she gasped. “I can tell you aren’t wearing underwear,” I grated out through clenched teeth. The flat of my palm slipped under her shirt and traveled up the smooth, hot skin of her back until it was resting just below her shoulder blades. “I don’t ever want to see you in public without a bra or panties, ever again. Or you’ll be sitting on a red ass the next day. Do I make myself clear?”

Penelope’s eyes were so wide, they took up practically her whole face. Her mouth gaped, her skin flushed, and she stood frozen. However, I didn’t miss the flash of lust in her deep blue pools or the shiver that raced down her spine. I couldn’t fucking wait to get my angel dirty. For now, though, I needed to get her settled in the guest room on the fifth floor. As far from my bedroom as possible.

“You can sleep in one of the guest rooms, and I’ll make sure that fucker is gone for good by the time you wake,” I told her as I guided her toward the elevator at the back of the house. I rarely used it since I lived mainly on the first three floors and basement, so it wasn’t a surprise to me that Penelope didn’t seem to be aware that it was there.

The door opened silently, and we stepped inside. I pushed the button for the fifth floor, then, without thinking, I quickly punched the number two. “I just want to look in on Tucker first,” I explained. I wasn’t sure if that excuse was more for her or myself. Particularly since the monitor app was open on my phone and in my pocket.

The second floor was split into two halves, with one-half being divided again into three bedrooms. The rest of the space made up the master suite. Tucker’s room was directly next to mine, and the others were set up for guests. I went straight to my son’s room and stealthily opened the door, poking my head in to see he was still fast asleep. Then I turned around and came to a halt just before I trampled Penelope, who was standing only inches behind me. I sidestepped and went around her, intending to go back to the elevator. My feet had other ideas, and they took me to the bedroom situated right next to Tucker’s.

What the fuck is wrong with you, Carrington?

I had no response to the question my mind was shouting at me, other than being an obvious glutton for punishment.

“In here,” I said gruffly. The polite thing to do would have been to take a few steps back and allow her to enter the room. But the masochist inside me was no gentleman, and I stayed in the doorway so she had to turn and slide past me. Her ass brushed over my cock, and I balled my hands into fists to keep from grabbing her hips and dry humping between those firm globes. “Good night, angel,” I croaked. For the first time that night, I listened to my brain and shut her door before beating a hasty retreat.