Chapter 30

CHAPTER

THIRTY

HARPER

A couple more weeks later…

“Are you seriously not going to tell me anything? Not even where we’re going?” I press.

Eddie doesn’t make a sound as he continues to drive down the winding, tree-lined road. The only acknowledgment I receive is a firm squeeze from the hand wrapped around my thigh.

We finally pull to a slow crawl as we turn toward a large iron gate. It bears a similarity to the one from the mansion I met him at, but I don’t think it’s the same one. As he creeps closer to it, it begins to open. As soon as there’s enough room for his car to fit through the opening, he stomps on the accelerator and catapults us down a long, curved drive. The mansion we race toward is definitely not the one I’ve been to before.

“Is this…your place?” I’m so caught off-guard that I barely ask my question. We’ve been seeing each other for a little over a month now, but not once have I been here. We spend nearly every night at my place, in my bed.

Nights spent elsewhere have always been a hotel in some city he flew me to for the night or the weekend. When he told me to pack a small bag for tonight, I just assumed that was going to be the case tonight. Especially since he’s been talking incessantly about a little Cuban restaurant in Miami that he wants to take me to.

But not once has he mentioned me coming to his home. Coming here was so taboo that had he not been sleeping at my place for the past few weeks, I probably would’ve started to think that he was hiding a wife and kids.

“Yes.” He gives my thigh a gentle, playful slap before sliding his hand from me.

Rounding the car, he opens my door and takes my hand to help me from it. As I climb out, a well-dressed older man descends the front steps of the house and walks toward us. Eddie hands him the keys to the car and instructs, “There’s a bag in the trunk; please ensure it makes its way to my room. And send all the staff home for the weekend.”

All the staff?

“Yes, sir.” He quickly nods in acknowledgment before making his way to the trunk.

“Are you going to hold me hostage here all weekend?” I tease as we make our way up the steps and through the front door. Taking a look around, I lift my hand to my face to ensure my jaw isn’t actually on the floor. His home is picturesque—straight out of some luxury home magazine. Natural light floods the space, only accentuating the soaring vaulted ceilings. His décor is modern yet minimalist. Everything is rich brown leather and dark wood, but it feels so cozy and welcoming.

It feels…like Eddie.

Dark and rough.

Like home.

“And what if I do plan to keep you here? As my little beck-and-call pain slut?” he jests.

“I mean,” I overtly roll my eyes, “I guess I can make do.”

“You’re a little extra feisty today.” He grips my chin and places a kiss against my lips. “That’s good because you’re going to need it for what I have in store for you.”

Fuck .

I gulp at his words as he grabs my hand and pulls me through the foyer and main living area of the house, “This way, little rose.”

The kitchen. So not the room I was expecting. Slipping his fingers from my hand, Eddie removes his suit jacket and carefully hangs it over the back of one of the island barstools. Dropping his cufflinks on the countertop, he meticulously rolls up each of his shirt sleeves, exposing his deliciously defined forearms.

Without saying a word, he opens the refrigerator and pulls several items out before walking around me to place them all on the counter beside the sink.

He fucking cooks?

Pushing past me again, he reaches into a cabinet, pulls out several pans, and sets each of them on the burners of the stove. He turns to face me, and I immediately realize that I am in his way again.

“I’ll just go sit over there.” I gesture at the stools on the far side of the island where he hung his coat.

“The fuck you will.” He grips my waist and hoists me onto the counter. His hands roam over my hips and teasingly down my thighs. Reaching my knees, he grips them firmly and forcefully parts them. An uncontainable gasp escapes me, causing the corner of his mouth to tick up in a smile. His eyes never leave mine as he kneels before me and nips at my inner thigh just above my knee.

“Not yet, little rose.” Eddie smirks before he rises to his feet with a cutting board in his hands. Laying it on the counter between me and the sink, he washes his hands, the scallops, and the produce he set out moments ago. He chops and dices the garlic, herbs, and tomatoes with finesse and precision. So skilled with a knife, one would think he’s a professional chef, not a real estate tycoon.

After washing his hands and cleaning what little mess he’s made, he leaves me for a moment. When he returns, he has a bottle of wine and two glasses in his hands. He pours a glass and extends it toward me. Stopping before I can take it from him, he raises a brow and questions, “Did you drink your water?”

“All sixty-four ounces of it,” I smugly reply.

“Good girl.” The deep tone of his praise travels straight to my pussy as he hands me the glass. “Because you’re going to need it.”

Oh fuck…