Wicked Good (The Billionaire's Fake Finace 3)

“I’m sorry that the media found out about your past.”

His eyes darkened and for one terrifying moment, I thought the old Madden had come back. Doubt slammed into my head. But then his eyes cleared and he shrugged. “They wanted to find dirt and they did, so now there are no more secrets. And it made me see what was really important.”

I set the glass down and moved to sit next to him. He pulled me against his chest and wrapped one arm around my shoulders. His lips brushed across my temple. I wanted to stay right there forever.

“Are there any...repercussions from everything that came out? I didn’t read anything…”

“Aside from the as**sociation with a known mob boss, no. They have no connection aside from Paulie creating a false name and paying for my college education. It’s enough to turn the public against me, but even if they strip away my degrees, I have my company. It’s not important though. From the minute the story broke, all I thought about was you and how I screwed it all up. My past, my company, none of it meant anything because you were gone. I was empty. I finally realized that I had to take the chance and find you. With nothing left to lose, I came here to lay it all on the line.”

I kissed his jaw. “None of it matters except you. You were the only thing that I wanted. That I still want.” I ran my hand up his leg and felt the muscles there tense.

“As do I,” he said hoarsely, “but I have plans for us tonight. The way it should have been from the start.”

I groaned and curled my finger to keep from caressing him again.

He took my hand and kissed each finger as he pulled them open. “I promise that later tonight, you will have everything you want.”

How could he say that and not expect me to burst into flames? “Madden.”

“I love hearing my name on your lips.”

I pushed up until my lips were right against his ear. “Madden, Madden, Madden,” I whispered.

“Skylar,” he groaned. “I’m trying to do this the right way this time.”

“You already did. But now…” I pulled the dress up enough that I could lift one leg and straddle his hi**ps. “Now, it’s time for a proper celebration. With my future husband.”

His fingers dug into my thighs and he pulled me tighter against him, enough so that I felt how much he wanted me. “Say that again,” he demanded.

I grinned. “My future husband.”

He shifted his hi**ps and I groaned.

“You win. I can deny you nothing. Driver, take us to the Fontainebleau immediately.”

I started to shift off his lap but his dark laughter stopped me.

“Oh no, you get to stay right here until we arrive.” Madden moved me slowly back and forth and sparks of pleasure shot out from between my legs. By the time we arrived at the hotel, I wasn’t sure my legs would hold me up.

Madden had played me like a master musician the entire ride but held back any time I got close.

“You’re the devil,” I whispered in his ear when the car slowed to a stop.

His only reply was to swipe his thumb over the silky wet material between my legs as he helped me back onto the seat.

“Devil,” I groaned as cool air washed over me from the open door. Madden’s deep chuckle followed me out the door.

The lobby of the hotel was massive with marbled floors and huge columns separating the front desk from a lounge area. With his hand on my lower back, we walked toward the bank of elevators as salsa music played in the background.

I expected that as soon as the elevator doors closed, he’d be all over me again. My pulse sped up and my skin tingled waiting, but he just stood staring straight ahead with his hand on my back. I squirmed and glanced up at him. The corner of his mouth lifted up.

The bastard knew what he was doing to me.

The best part was that I never wanted him to stop.

Minutes later, we arrived at the room.

Madden slid his key card into a penthouse suite, then opened the door a crack.

He turned to me with a grin, and then before I knew what was happening, he swooped me up into his arms and pushed through the door. I started to argue when I saw the room.

The room flickered with the light from a hundred candles. Roses filled the space and petals were scattered across the floor. A bottle sat chilling in a crystal bucket and several silver covered dishes were on the table. Soft music played in the background. The curtains had been left open and the glittering lights of the city spread out as far as I could see.

“You did all this?” I asked, unable to look away from the view. We had to be twenty stories high.

“Well, I personally didn’t pluck the rose petals, but I did orchestrate everything. And supervised. I wanted it to be perfect.”