Reveal Me, Sir (Doms of Decadence 9)

It didn’t help that this relationship was temporary. Maybe if she knew he wanted to be with her enough to make something more of this, she could open up more. Although she didn’t know how she would ever be able to tell him who she was. She didn’t want to think about his reaction to that. But that didn’t matter, because as soon as they found this asshole, he’d be going back to Dallas. And she’d be eating a lot of chocolate and ice cream.

She paused and sighed. She didn’t want to go back to the hotel. So what if anyone knew she was wearing a butt plug because she waddled? No one was going to be rude enough to mention it. And she’d demanded to be allowed at this meeting, she could hardly walk away now.

She turned back around with a grumble. “I’m coming.”

Connor grinned but didn’t say anything.

Smart move.

She placed her hand through the crook of his elbow. He held his laptop bag in his other hand. He knocked on the door and Ajax answered. He looked tired. Worn out.

“Oh, Ajax, are you okay?”

He smiled at her then waved them in. “I’m fine, little one. Come in. Can I get you two a drink?”

“Beer, thanks,” Connor told him.

“Make that two,” Ria added.

“The others are in the main living room. Ria knows the way. I’ll join you soon. I’m glad you’re here, Ria. Sophie’s been really stressed. She could use a friend.”

She hoped Sophie was okay. She’d talked to her friend a few times, but she’d always said she was fine. Ria should have insisted on seeing her in person.

She walked into the living area that had floor-to-ceiling windows with views out to the woodland beyond. Ajax’s house was beautifully decorated. But right now, she didn’t notice any of that. All she could see were the two big men dominating the large space. And intimidating the hell out of Sophie. Not that they probably meant to.

Or maybe they did.

A dark-haired, well-dressed man sat on a high-backed armchair, a glass of scotch in his hand. He was looking at something on his phone.

A large-built man stood behind him. He was leaning against the fireplace. He had a glass of scotch in one hand, but his gaze was set on Sophie, who looked small and defenseless as she sat in the corner of the large sectional.

“Here you go. Doesn’t she look gorgeous?” The dark-haired man held up his phone to the other guy who came over and took it.

“She looks like an overgrown rat.”

“Oh, God,” Connor muttered beside her.

“Why has she got that pink bow on her head? She has no hair.”

“She doesn’t have to have hair to wear a bow,” the dark-haired man insisted.

“Look better if she did,” the big man observed.

“Hunter,” Connor snapped.

“What?” The big man glanced up with a grimace. “Oh, you’re here, Sticky. You’ve got to come and see these photos of Roarke’s. We need a second opinion. Cute or overgrown rat?”

“Hunter, you can’t insult his daughter like that.” Connor sounded horrified but resigned.

They were talking about a child?

Hunter’s eyes widened. “I’m not talking about his kid. Jesus, I’m not that much of an ass. I start insulting his kid and Roarke will want my balls on a platter.”

“I certainly will.” Roarke said smoothly.

“Luckily, the kid takes after Ava rather than this butt-ugly bastard,” Hunter commented. “Do you know whose kid she is?”

“Jesus, help me,” Connor muttered.