Wheeler (Seattle Sharks 8) - Page 30

“You’ve had two weeks, Langley. Why can’t you make this go away? Isn’t that what I pay you for?” I snapped.

“Because I’m not a damned magician, Lukas! I told you this was going to come out whether or not you wanted it to. I told you to break it to her weeks ago, remember? My advice was to go public and get ahead of this.”

I swallowed the tension threatening to close off my throat.

“She can’t take the scandal,” I said softly, turning to look at Faith’s house. “She barely trusts me as it is. This will kill her. It will kill us.” I’d worked so hard for so long, and everything was poised to disintegrate.

“I think she’s stronger than you give her credit for.” Langley’s tone softened.

“That’s the problem. She thinks she has to be strong because she’s always waiting for the other shoe to drop when it comes to me. This is the other shoe. She’ll walk before I can even have a chance to explain.”

“I can’t keep this from coming out. I’m doing everything I can, Lukas, but they’re threatening to run the story, and I’m not sure I can give them anything in trade.”

I cursed. “Just do what you can to give my PI a little more time.”

“What about Eric?”

“We’re telling him tonight at dinner.” My heart leaped when Faith’s door opened and she leaned against the frame, tilting her head with a smile. “Speaking of which, Faith is waiting, so I’d better go.”

“Okay. I’ll do what I can. Same number applies?”

“As the last two tabloids we paid off? Yes. I don’t care what it costs, just make it go away. I’m not losing everything I worked for over a fucking lie.”

She sighed. “Tell her.”

“Gotta go.” I hung up on Langley with a touch of a button and killed the engine. The air was heavy with impending rain, the afternoon sun hidden behind ominous clouds as I walked up the sidewalk to Faith’s door.

“Hi there, handsome.” She rose on her toes, her feet bare, and kissed me.

“Hey,” I replied, following her inside.

She shut the door and looked up at me with a wrinkled brow. “What’s wrong?”

I took in her black dress and unbound curls and smiled. “Now that I’m here? Nothing.”

She grinned, clasped my hand in hers, and led me to her small kitchen. “I wasn’t expecting you for another hour. In fact, I was trying on dresses for dinner.”

“Well, I really like that one,” I told her as she grabbed two bottles of water from her fridge. “Especially when you bend over like that.”

She laughed, and the sound was almost bright enough to banish the demons of my day. “It’s probably the tenth dress I’ve tried,” she admitted, handing me a bottle.

I unscrewed the top and chugged half of it. “Nervous?”

“A little, but not too much.” She jumped, hoisting herself onto the counter. “I’m guessing you are, since you’re ridiculously early.”

I looked back toward the doorway.

“Don’t worry. No one’s home. Harper is out doing research on something to do with a grant for impact protection foam or something, and Sawyer is still practicing with my brother.” Her feet swung, making her look even younger than her twenty-one years.

“So it’s just us?” I asked.

“Just you, me, and the hour we have before we need to leave for the restaurant.” She crooked her finger at me, and I went. “You look incredible,” she said, running her hands down the lapels of my suit. “This doesn’t look like Adrenaline.”

“It’s Armani,” I admitted. “I wasn’t fucking around tonight.”

“It’s going to be okay,” she promised, tugging me closers as she spread her thighs. I stepped between them, bringing our bodies flush.

This was where everything made sense—when I was wrapped around Faith.

“So you keep saying.” I ran my hands up her back until my fingers tangled in her curls. “God, you look delicious.”

She smiled but shrugged. “I’m nothing compared to the girls you’re usually seen in public with.”

“I’m only seen in public with you.”

“Ah, yes.” She leaned her head back, putting her nose into the air. “And here we have the known playboy, Lukas Vestergaard, looking dashing as always in his designer clothes. He’s accompanied by his assistant.” She put on her best impression of a snotty reporter.

“After tonight, the whole world will know your name.”

That was why we’d chosen to have dinner out. Telling Eric would accomplish three things. First, he’d finally know. Second, since we’d be in public, so hopefully he wouldn’t punch me in the face. Third, Faith and I would go public in every way. No more hiding. No more sneaking around. No more secrets.

Except that one.

“You really think the world will care?” she asked, twining her arms around my neck.

“I think the world will take one look at you and forget all about me. You are enchanting, Faith.” I set one of my hands on her bare knee, and then hooked under it, tugging her to the edge of the counter and aligning our hips. “God, this dress.”

She grinned. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I’ll like it better on the floor. As soon as we’re done with dinner, I’m taking you back to my place.” My hand slid up her thigh, and I groaned at the silky feel of her skin under the fabric of her dress.

“You are?” She acted shocked. “Why, Mr. Vestergaard, whatever do you have planned?”

“Ravishing you,” I answered honestly. “Once this dress hits the floor, I’m going to keep you naked until the sun comes up.”

She sucked in a breath as my thumb grazed the lace covering her center.

“So. I guess. I don’t. Need to pack. An overnight. Bag.” Her words became choppy as I ran my thumb up and down her slit, using the lace to add to the friction.

“Nope. I just need you bare.”

Her lips parted, her breath hitting mine in short pants.

“Should I leave you wanting through dinner?” I asked, pressing my thumb against her clit.

She moaned, and when she arched for a kiss, I pulled my head back, denying us.

“Don’t you think pleasure is better for the anticipation?” I let my breath tease her ear, but didn’t touch her.

“No, I don’t.” She shook her head. “I think orgasms are good. All orgasms. Especially the ones you give right before a dinner date.”

I chuckled and slipped my thumb under her panties. “This reminds me of a certain night where I slid my hands up your dress.”

“Unh,” she groaned as I teased her opening. “Lukas. Please.” Her hands fisted the lapels of my suit and yanked me closer. “Please,” she repeated.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” I whispered, running my thumb between the area just above her opening and below her clit.

She whimpered.

“I love keeping you on the edge, watching you burn for me.”

She tried to arch her hips, but I moved with her, denying her what she needed.

“Lukas, if you don’t make me come right now, I’m going to take care of it myself. In my bedroom. After I lock you out. You won’t even get to see.” Her eyes narrowed, the threat real.

“We can’t have that, now, can we?” I asked before taking her mouth in a full assault.

This, right here with Faith in my arms, was my definition of heaven. Everything faded until it was just us, our connection, our need for each other.

I changed my angle and slipped a finger inside her, then sent a second to join it, curling them inward to stroke her G-spot.

“Ah!” she cried out.

I kissed her deep as my fingers fucked her. “Shh,” I urged her as the heel of my palm pressed against her clit. “We wouldn’t want the neighbors to hear.”

“Fuck the neighbors,” she growled.

“Haven’t you heard?” I ground against her, making small circles with my hand as my fingers moved in and out of her slowly. “I’m on

ly fucking you these days.”

Her thighs locked and her breath stuttered. She was close.

She moaned, and I kissed her deep, swallowing the sounds. Then my tongue fucked her mouth with the same sure strokes as my fingers below. When all of her muscles tensed, I pressed against her clit, and she flew, breaking apart as her orgasm ripped through her.

“Whoa.”

I heard the first voice a millisecond before the second.

“What the fuck?”

Oh. Shit.

I caught Faith as she fell forward, shielding her from their gazes as she sucked in lungfuls of air, recovering from her orgasm.

“Lukas?” Gentry questioned.

“Yep,” I answered, unwilling to turn around and expose Faith.

If my erection could die, that would be fucking great.

“Is that...Is that Faith?” he shouted.

One of her hands rose above my shoulders. “Hi, Eric,” she grumbled.

“Were you...are you...did you just...Where the fuck are your hands?” His voice pitched to levels I’d never heard.

With agonizing slowness, I slipped my fingers free from Faith. Then I kissed her on the forehead, backed up a step and closed her knees.

Her eyes were wide with mortification, tears shimmering.

“It’s going to be okay,” I promised her. Funny how fast the roles changed.

“The fuck it is,” Gentry growled.

I turned to face my best friend. He was a shade of red I’d never seen, and never cared to see again.

“Hi, Eric. I think we should talk.”

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