A Million Guilty Pleasures (Million Dollar Duet 2)

“Sure thing, sweetie,” he answered.

Daniel gave Noah and me a knowing grin and then took his leave. Lexi, Dez, and Polly followed close behind, but as Noah and I turned toward the door, my father stopped us.

“Lanie, a word please?” he asked, and then looked at Noah. “In private?”

I gave Noah an apologetic yet nervous smile. As much as I hated to watch him walk away, I couldn’t deny my father the audience he requested. Besides, Noah was here to stay for as long as I wanted him, per his own words. I hoped he realized how long a lifetime really did last.

As if reading my mind, Noah cupped my cheek and kissed me gently on the forehead. “I’ll be waiting for you at the elevator,” he said before following our friends out.

I took a deep breath to still my nerves and then turned to face my dad, a smile plastered on my face. “What’s up?”

“What took you so long to come see your mother?”

“What do you mean? I came as soon as Dez told me.”

Mack picked up the newspaper he’d been reading earlier and held it out to me. There, on the front page of the entertainment section of that day’s Chicago Times, was a picture of me and Noah on the red carpet at the Scarlet Lotus Ball. The caption read: “Chicago’s most eligible bachelor, off the market?”

“Dad, I can explain—” I started.

Mack threw his hands up and stopped me. “No need to, Lanie. All I know is that you were in town, and even if I hadn’t seen that article, I was already questioning how the hell you managed to make it here so quickly from New York. I’ve been so preoccupied with worrying about your mother that I didn’t even notice how suspicious it was that you just happened to get a full scholarship at the last moment and whisked yourself away to New York at the drop of a hat. Then a couple million dollars shows up in our bank account with no clue as to where it came from, and your mother’s doctor is taken off the case in favor of a prestigious cardiologist, who just so happens to be the father of your quote-unquote roommate, who just so happens to be the cousin of”—he motioned toward the newspaper again with a flick of his hand—“Chicago’s most eligible bachelor. The man’s got more money than he knows what to do with, and my daughter, a kid who was so shy she didn’t even go to her own prom, is dating him and has her picture plastered all over the newspaper?”

Mack sighed and shook his head. “It doesn’t make any sense, but right now I don’t care. We’ve been given a miracle, and I suspect all these coincidences,” he said, using air quotes around the word, “have everything to do with it, but I won’t question that miracle because it means I get to hold on to my wife a while longer. Just don’t make me regret it.”

A smile so huge it hurt my cheeks spread across my face. “I won’t, Daddy.” I hadn’t called my father that since I was seven. I went over and gave him a big, fat hug because he deserved it and because we both needed it. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Get out of here and go get something to eat. You’re too skinny,” he said, waving me off. “And when all of this is over with and your mother’s back home, I want the two of you to come over for dinner and a proper introduction.”

Translation: he wanted to introduce Noah to his Smith and Wesson.

Despite the fact he was letting me off the hook, I gave him my best please-don’t-pull-out-the-shotgun-and-embarrass-me look. Noah was important to me, and the last thing I needed was for Mack to pull the protective-father routine. I was twenty-four years old and more than capable of taking care of myself. Mack might argue that point if he knew the lengths to which I’d gone to help my family, but I saw what I’d done as a show of strength, not weakness. Regardless, I knew once they got to know Noah, he’d sweep them off their feet the same way he did me.

“It’s a date,” I told Mack. “I’ll be back in a bit to check on Mom.”

Once I’d left the room, I blew out a huge puff of air and sighed in relief before I made my way toward the elevators. I hadn’t gone far when a pair of hands shot out from an opened doorway and grabbed me, dragging me inside. There was no squeak of protest, no fighting off my would-be attacker, because I smelled him even before I saw him.

“Noah, what are you doing?” I laughed as he put my back against the wall and pinned me in place with his body.

He started devouring my neck with kisses. “I told you I was hungry.”

“No, you didn’t. I said I was hungry,” I corrected him with a giggle.

He shrugged, securing my hands above my head with just one of his. “Po-tay-to, po-tah-to.”

My body relaxed under his touch. “You’re insatiable, Mr. Crawford.”

“Ah, so finally you’re catching on, Miss Talbot,” he said as his free hand cupped my right breast and began to massage it.

“So what are we doing here then?”

“I think you’re in need of some … what did you call it? Stress management?” His hand moved down my side until he slipped it underneath my skirt and down the front of my panties. I moaned the second his fingers came into contact with the soft flesh there and began to manipulate my clit. The Cooch shivered in delight.

“Mmm, yeah. You needed this, didn’t you?” His tongue wrapped around my earlobe and he sucked it into his mouth.

The Cooch bobbed her head emphatically and wept from his touch.

I tried to pull my hands down so I could immerse them in his thick hair, but he held me firmly in place. “Uh-uh, Lanie. No touching. Only feeling.”

He accentuated the last word by dipping a long, broad finger inside me, languidly pushing it in before pulling it back out again just as slowly. The heel of his palm pressed against my clit, massaging it with his movements until I felt like my knees would buckle and I’d fall to the floor. But there was no danger of that because Noah was very capable of holding me up.

I felt a second finger push inside and then he stroked the walls of my pussy until I rolled my pelvis against his hand. Back and forth he flicked his fingers, maddeningly slow and then fast before slowing down again. It was enough yet too much, all at the same time, and I felt my body coiling with sensation, ready to spring with just the right stroke.

“Not yet,” he whispered against my lips, then claimed my mouth in a searing kiss. Noah removed his fingers, leaving me wanting. When I groaned in protest, he broke the kiss and looked down on me with that evil little smirk that always made my girly bits break into a chorus of hallelujahs.