"No," he rumbled in my ear. "I have to fuck you. Now."
"Why? Are you marking your territory?" I'd only been half serious with the comment, but he pulled back and the look in his eyes said that was exactly what he was doing.
I wriggled out of his gr...
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Kelly owned one of the hottest boutiques in New York City. Despite never needing to work a day in her life, the middle Carter child had an eye for clothing design and she put it to good use. Her shop was by appointment only, and I’d nearly lost myself in fashionista heaven when Shawn had taken me to purchase racks of clothing almost two weeks before.
After directing Jordan to Greenwich Village where Kelly ‘s was located, Shawn pulled out his phone and called his sister. I listened half-heartedly to their short conversation. “Thanks, we’re on our way,” he said before hanging up.
“She won’t be there,” he said to me as he pocketed his phone. “She’s getting ready for the party. But Nicki will take care of you.”
I groaned inwardly at the thought of dealing with Nicki , Kelly ‘s too-short, big-assed blonde assistant. She had a thing for Shawn, had even gone out with him on at least one occasion. Needless to say, she wasn’t fond of me. The daggers she shot with her eyes were poisonous enough to kill an army.
Plus, she made me jealous. Kelly insisted that Nicki wasn’t even a blip on Shawn’s radar. But one night, when I’d cyber-stalked him, I’d seen a picture of Shawn and Nicki together. They looked good. And I bet she didn’t have a history of crazy like I did.
If I could avoid seeing Nicki , I’d be a much happier person. “If Kelly ‘s not going to be there, maybe we shouldn’t bother with the boutique. We could go back to my place and get something that we bought last time.”
“No, we need something new. I’ll want to show you off.”
I wasn’t sure if that made me happy or irritated. On the one hand, he liked the way I looked enough to feel like he could parade me. On the other hand, was that all I was? A show pony? Was this left over from our convince-everyone-we’re-together scheme?
It was likely none of the above, simply a complimentary statement from a man to his woman. My emotions were still too muddled from the last fifteen minutes-from the last twenty-four hours-and now everything had a twinge of heaviness. It didn’t seem like I could simply take anything at face value. There were layers to every gesture, every comment, every moment, and I was having a hard time getting my head around it all.
The nearly forty-five minute drive from Uptown to the Village didn’t help. I cuddled into Shawn and closed my eyes trying to nap, unsuccessfully. When Jordan finally pulled up in front of the boutique, it felt like a lifetime had passed.
Shawn didn’t wait for our driver to open the door. He climbed out and extended his hand. He continued to hold my hand as we walked to the shop, and I couldn’t help but remember the last time we’d been there, how he’d held my hand then. How it had been pretend then and this time was real. It was real, wasn’t it?
