Chapter 11

ELEVEN

The blonde from last night was sitting in Wilson’s suite looking awfully comfortable, freshly showered with her hair still wet and wearing a hotel robe.

What the hell?

Why would Wilson bring me here after he’d…

“Catarina,” Wilson grunted. “What are you doing here?”

The woman arched a perfectly manicured eyebrow.

Now that she was out of her pretty, sparkly dress and wasn’t made up she looked even younger than she had last night.

Jack popped a fry in his mouth and smiled as he chewed.

“Morning, Atlee,” he greeted.

“Um… morning.”

“Are you going to introduce us?” Catarina asked. “Or are you going to let your girlfriend stand there thinking we’re having an affair?”

I felt Wilson’s hands on my hips flex.

“Atlee, this is Catarina,” he said but offered no more.

Interestingly enough he didn’t correct the girlfriend comment.

“I’m just a friend.”

Wilson’s fingers dug in.

“Nice to meet you, friend.” Catarina smiled. “And call me Cat.”

Jack rolled his eyes.

“Cat’s working a job with us.” He picked up his burger. “If I knew you were coming back I would’ve gotten your order.”

Wilson grunted and pushed me farther into the living room.

“Have a seat, princess. I’ll make some coffee.”

He let me go and I watched his long, powerful strides take him into the full kitchen. The suite was well appointed, but my hotel’s suites were better.

Jack pointed to the chair next to him.

“I don’t bite,” he reminded me.

“Is that your best pick-up line?” I asked.

My legs felt wooden as I made my way to the chair.

I still had no idea why Wilson had brought me here. He was silent on the drive over. Actually he looked like he was brooding.

“If he values his life, he’ll stop talking about biting you,” Wilson clipped.

Jack winked and attacked his burger.

I loved In-N-Out as much as the next person but not at sunrise.

“So, you’re the host at the Boulevard,” Cat observed.

“I am.”

“Bet you didn’t think your first VIP after your promotion would be such a slimy asshole.”

What the hell?

“How do you—”

“Stop freaking out Atlee,” Jack interjected. “Cat here is a Deputy Marshal. She’s part of a task force known as the SOIB. Sex offender investigative branch. Before that, she worked for Homeland. Before that, she was human intel in the Army.”

I glanced back at the pretty woman, unable to see her in any of the roles.

“I’m here to take down your VIP.”

Cat calling Martin my anything made me want to gag.

“Take him down?”

Wilson appeared next to me, two mugs of the elixir of the gods in his hands. He offered me one. I looked at the steaming liquid the perfect blonde color. He remembered how I took my coffee. I didn’t know what to do with that beyond take the mug.

“Thanks,” I muttered.

He sat across from me on the couch next to Cat. Very unwelcomed jealousy reared its ugly head. He was not mine, and even if he was, him sitting next to a pretty woman in a robe shouldn’t have bothered me. Yet it did. And I was having a hard time reminding myself of all the reasons why I needed to avoid him and the feelings he evoked.

“What do you know about Martin Jackson?” Wilson asked.

It was then it became clear. He’d pulled me out of bed at an ungodly hour to interrogate me about Martin.

The hotel had strict rules about sharing any information about the VIPs I worked with. An ironclad NDA that if I violated they’d own my assets from now until the day I died. Not to mention I’d be banned from ever working in another hotel.

“I don’t know anything about him.”

“Wilson,” Cat sighed. “You’re not very good at this. She’ll need something before she breaks the nondisclosure.”

Wilson’s tired blue eyes narrowed.

If he hadn’t woken me up and dragged me down the strip I would’ve felt sorry for him. He looked exhausted and weary.

“The women,” Jack started. “They’re Martin’s personal stable of hookers. Eden Dunhill is a madam. She handles the women. From recruitment to renting them.”

“Eden Dunhill is Martin’s assistant.”

“She is, in the sense she assists planning his sick fuck fests,” Wilson bit out.

That couldn’t be right.

Well, the fuck fest party was an accurate description but the rest was farfetched.

“I think you’re wrong. Hundreds of billionaires come through this city each year, flashing their money. They order call girls, throw parties, and spend exorbitant amounts of money. Martin Jackson is just like the rest of them. An asshole with too much money and a sick fetish.”

“He’s a sex trafficker,” Cat rejoined. “The last two parties he’s thrown are nothing more than a taste. It’s part of the vetting process for the main event.”

“What’s the main event?”

“The auction,” Wilson told me.

“The auction?” I repeated.

For a moment all Wilson did was stare at me with a frown. His eyes roamed my face, becoming unhappier as the seconds ticked by.

“This afternoon you need to call your boss and call in sick,” he commanded.

That wasn’t going to happen for a variety of reasons ranging from this was a new job and I couldn’t risk looking unreliable to I had bills to pay and my salary alone wouldn’t cover my mortgage. The majority of my income depended on tips and Martin wasn’t my only client.

“That’s not happening,” I voiced.

“It is, Atlee,” Wilson contradicted. “Martin Jackson is in town to auction women. That’s happening soon. The SOIB has been tracking him for over a year. He only travels for the auctions. If this was just another one of his sex parties, he’d send Eden in alone. She rents. He sells. I told you this last night. I thought you understood.”

I felt my stomach tighten.

He had explained but part of me hadn’t believed.

Or maybe it was denial. I wasn’t so naïve I didn’t know this kind of stuff happened. I was a single woman in Vegas, I was very aware I needed to be careful. I knew bad stuff happened all the time. But like most people I never thought I’d ever come face-to-face with the real thing. Sex trafficking was abstract. It was something that sadly happened but never to me.

“I can’t call in sick.”

“Atlee—”

“I can’t, Wilson. My promotion is new. The best I can do is stay away from Martin and Eden the best I can. But when they call, I have to answer.”

The man looked displeased.

“This works to our advantage,” Cat offered.

Wilson’s scowl deepened.

“Cat’s right,” Jack put in. “With Cat working Martin, you working Eden, Atlee has insider information of his movements.”

Wilson was working Eden?

What did that mean?

I pushed aside the nauseous feeling.

“I was being honest, I don’t know anything about Martin.” An idea hit. “He gives me the creeps so I’ve been steering clear. But I could—”

“No,” Wilson grunted.

“No? You didn’t even let me finish.”

“Princess, the man sells women. If you think I’m letting you get any closer than you already are you’ve bumped that pretty head of yours.”

I heard Jack chuckle.

“My job is to make the man comfortable. Be at his beck and call. Eden’s, too. The casino’s been pushing me to get him to a table. Every time I’ve mentioned it to Martin he tells me he’ll play when I sit with him as his good luck charm. I could—”

Wilson’s hand came up and he pointed to Cat.

“She’s his good luck charm.”

Oh, right.

“Well, then I can make the arrangements and tell you what room he’ll be playing.”

Jack tossed his burger wrapper in the bag and straightened.

“That’s actually a good idea. If we know what room, we can get Shep to hack the surveillance and have eyes and ears in the room. It’s unlikely he’ll say much but it’s something.”

Wilson looked like he wanted to argue.

“That’s as far as your involvement goes.”

“It’s cute how you think you’re the boss of me,” I sassed.

“Oh, shit.” Cat laughed. “I think that’s my cue to exit stage left. I need to go get ready for my date with the king of the douchebags. We’re going to the speedway. If everything goes according to plan—and it will—he won’t be at the party tonight. That will give Atlee the night off and you an opportunity to work Eden.”

Before I could dwell on what it meant for Wilson to work Eden, Jack announced, “They’re already digging into Wilson Barker. So far they’re focused on the financials.”

“Shep’s sure the cover will hold?”

Wilson’s question was met with Jack’s smirk.

“I’m not questioning Shepherd. If you want to call him and ask, be my guest. But the dude gets cranky when someone questions his skills.”

I had no idea who this Shepherd person was beyond Jack feeling confident he could hack the hotel’s top-notch cybersecurity.

“I would call him, but Mia’s the only one with his phone number and she’s refused to give it to me,” Wilson replied.

“Mia has a hacker’s phone number?” I inquired.

“Mia has a whole network of hackers and men on speed dial to whisk away victims of DA and trafficking to safehouses around the world.” Wilson paused. “Or she did before she married Cole and became Takeback’s receptionist.”

Jack shook his head.

“I’d like to see you call her that to her face. She prefers to be called the goddess of the office and if not that the sorceress of testosterone.”

I could totally see Mia wanting to be called the goddess of the office.

Cat stood and gathered the trash off the table.

“I’m going to go change and get to my room. I’ll check in tonight if I get a chance.”

Jack scowled at the petite woman. She was even shorter without her heels on.

“Check-in is before midnight. You miss it, I’ll come looking for you.”

She flashed him a megawatt smile and pressed her hands over her heart.

“Careful, Donovan, I might start to think you like me.”

Jack grunted.

“You’re growing on me. Good work last night.”

Cat’s smile faded.

“The asshole is textbook. All he sees is what he wants to see. A helpless, innocent woman. Men like that are easy to manipulate. It’s the ones who don’t think with their dicks who are harder to play.”

“It was nice meeting you, Atlee.”

That knot I felt in my chest last night seeing her with Martin, loosened.

“You, too.”

“Time for bed,” Wilson announced.

“I’ll call an Uber.”

Jack weirdly chuckled.

Wilson said not a word when he set his mug on the table, came around to the chair I was occupying, took my mostly full coffee out of my hand, then proceeded to pluck me out of my seat. Jack was still laughing when Wilson ushered me into his bedroom and closed the door behind us.

“I’ll be out in a minute.”

Wilson was nearing the bathroom when I found my voice.

“Why am I here?”

He didn’t answer my question. Instead he issued a demand.

“Get in bed, princess.”

I glanced at the king bed in a bedroom that was three times the size of mine.

The shower went on.

Screw it.

He was tired, so was I, and nothing was going to happen.

I slipped off my shoes, pulled my hoodie over my head, adjusted the tank top I had on underneath and was happy I’d put on a bra before my jaunt across town.

The shower went off as I was closing the shades. Wilson sauntered out gloriously naked.

My brain went haywire. Other parts of me went liquid.

“Bed, princess.”

Not trusting my voice, I nodded.

He had the white bedclothes pulled back and was climbing in— nude. From experience I knew this was how Wilson slept. At least it was how he’d slept the two nights we’d shared a bed. But those times, I’d been naked as well, too exhausted from multiple orgasms to care about clothing. That was not the norm for me.

I started for the bed when Wilson rumbled, “Lose the sweats.”

“Wilson—”

“Baby, I’m tired as fuck. I just want to feel you.”

That was worse than him wanting sex.

I stupidly dragged my pants off.

The moment I entered the bed, Wilson claimed me. I closed my eyes in my best attempt to block out how good he felt wrapped around me. Wilson made it worse when his hand found mine and he laced our fingers together.

“Sleep, princess.”

There was no way I was getting back to sleep with Wilson’s chest pressed against my back and thoughts of sex traffickers filling my head.

It didn’t take very long for Wilson’s breathing to even out and his big body to relax into mine.

I didn’t dare move. Not a single muscle, as I silently lay there willing my heart to stay detached. As soon as Wilson was done with Martin and Eden, he’d be gone.

I couldn’t forget that.

That was my last thought before I drifted into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

A ringing phonewoke me up. It took me a moment to realize it was mine. And it was coming from the pocket of my sweatpants lying on Wilson’s bedroom floor.

Damn.

I rolled to the edge of the bed, reached to the floor, fumbled until I pulled my phone free, and glanced at the screen.

Shit.

It was almost noon.

Double shit. It was my father.

I silenced the call but it was too late. Wilson was awake and pulling me back into him.

“I have to take this.”

“Jackson?” he rumbled.

No, worse.

“My father.”

He let me.

Now I had a conundrum. Unlike Wilson, I didn’t particularly like prancing around semi dressed. The blackout shades weren’t fully closed, giving the room enough light I couldn’t stand without him getting an eyeful of my ass. Not that he hadn’t seen it before, but this seemed different. We hadn’t had sex. We’d…cuddled.

Stupid, stupid me.

I nearly dropped my phone when it started ringing again.

With no other option than speaking to my father in front of Wilson I quickly got out of bed and tugged my pants on, but not before I gave him an up-close glimpse of my ass, and rushed out of the room. I was in the living space when I answered.

“Hey, Dad, how’s… Punta Cana?”

Last week he’d traveled to the Dominican Republic to spread his altruist genius.

I’m seriously going to hell.

“Busy. Leptospirosis outbreak. There’s been heavy rainfall and flooding which means dengue is on the rise. Dr. Shultz is with me. She’s been a big help.”

Dr. Tina Shultz had the hots for my dad. I’d met her a few times when she was lecturing in New York. My father, like everything else, was completely oblivious of the attraction.

“Well, that’s good,” I told him, staring at the calm fountain pond.

“Dengue fever is never good, Atlee.”

Sometimes I wondered if he purposefully misunderstood me or if it was the disconnect that hindered our communication.

“I meant Dr. Shultz being with you.”

“Yes, she is very competent and bright.”

And beautiful but I doubted if he even noticed—unless she was ill lying on his table, then he’d be observant and possibly take note. That was the only way my father the Good Doctor paid attention to anything.

I heard the Keurig sputter.

Damn.

“Listen, Dad, I’m sorry to cut this short but I’m running late and I need to get to the hotel.”

“You need better time management,” he scolded.

I closed my eyes and settled in for his reprimand.

“Less coffee, more water. A good alkaline water, not public water. We’ve discussed the chemicals in city water. And since you don’t eat a proper diet, vitamins are essential. You need to find a good B12 and D. It’s bad enough you live in a disease-infested city with all the pollution but you don’t sleep enough. Your lifestyle is the perfect breeding ground for illness. I really wish you’d take your health seriously and find a career that wasn’t going to kill you.”

Right.

Because being a doctor around nothing but sick people all day was perfectly safe.

“I like my job, Dad,” I snapped, losing patience. “And I do get plenty of sleep.”

I didn’t bother commenting on the coffee remark because me giving up coffee would be akin to cutting off a limb. And I wasn’t paying six dollars for a bottle of any kind of water, I didn’t care what it claimed to do. I wouldn’t be surprised if somewhere down the line he read a research article that said bathing in alkaline water would add years to your life and he’d start pushing that on me.

“Sometimes in life it’s not about doing what you like, it’s about doing what’s smart.”

Jeez. Condescending much?

“You like what you do. Actually, you love it more than anything.”

I didn’t bother hiding my disdain.

He either missed it or ignored it.

“I’m a doctor, Atlee Marie. It’s my life’s calling. I heal the sick.”

But he never bothered to heal my sickness. He allowed me to drown in the sorrow of losing my mother. He’d rather fulfill his ‘life’s calling’ than be a father.

“Good to know.”

“I sense sarcasm in your tone. I’ll assume that’s from a late night gallivanting around the city being nothing more than a glorified gofer running yourself ragged for no reason.”

Ouch.

It was useless arguing with Dr. Levine. Once he had something in his mind, there was no reasoning with him.

Which was why I gave in.

I always gave in and gave up when it came to my father.

“You’re right, Dad. I had a late night and an early morning and now I’m behind schedule so I must go now so I can check in with the hotel and start my gofer duties. I hope you have a wonderful day.”

“You, too. Until next time.”

Until next time.

If I never heard those three words again it would be too soon. But I’d hear them again in seven days and they’d piss me off just like always.

I shoved my phone in my pocket but kept my gaze riveted on the Bellagio pond.

Wilson appeared next to me with a glorious offering. I didn’t bother looking to make sure it had enough creamer in it before I took a fortifying sip. Wilson wouldn’t get something as simple as coffee wrong. Now my father, he didn’t know a damn thing about me. Not my favorite color, not my pain, not my dreams, not who broke my heart in ninth grade, not what foods I liked or disliked, not even how I took my coffee.

“That sounded…” Wilson trailed off and cleared his throat. “Unpleasant.”

“My weekly call with my father.”

I said no more. To me that said it all.

“I take it you’re not close,” he hedged.

“He’s difficult.”

Ha. That was an understatement.

“Difficult?”

I turned to look at Wilson.

Shirtless with a pair of navy-blue sleep pants that hung low on his hips. I’d never seen him in something so casual.

A suit or naked—never in anything else.

“Yes. Difficult.”

“Difficult how?” he pushed.

I looked back out the window. There was only so much sexy Wilson I could take.

“It’s a long, boring story,” I started. “Nothing that will interest you.”

I didn’t see him raise his hand, but I sure did feel his fingers wrap around the back of my neck and squeeze.

What was it about his hand on my neck that set my body on fire?

“Everything about you interests me.”

God. If only that was true.

“Well, this won’t. My father’s a doctor. A traveling doctor. He works mostly in third world countries servicing disadvantaged populations. It’s good work. Noble. He’s good at it. An excellent doctor but a shit father. Or at least he became that after my mother died. Before that I remember him being loving and engaged.”

That was why my father’s deflection hurt so badly. Once upon a time I had a good dad. Now I had a man who only found time once a week to connect with me and when he did it was to berate me and tell me I was a disappointment.

Using his hand on the back of my neck Wilson turned me to face him.

“You lost your mom?” he murmured softly.

Danger. Danger. Danger.

Wilson’s normal take-charge, in control persona was perilous enough, I didn’t need him to add a side helping of sweet for him to be hazardous to my wellbeing.

“When I was thirteen. Complications from a heart condition she’d had since birth. I think that’s what pushed my father into his work. He couldn’t save her. That and it was his expert opinion that pushed her into getting a pacemaker. Her cardiologist said it was unnecessary at that stage but it would be necessary in the future. My father found who he said was the best cardiologist in New York to perform the surgery. She died the day after the pacemaker was put in.”

Saying it out loud, knowing my father held a tremendous amount of guilt for my mother’s death, made me feel like a total twat for not having more empathy for a husband who adored his wife.

“Gram was devastated, so was my grandfather. They were beside themselves with grief, but they never blamed my father. They did everything they could to console him even though they were in pain. But nothing worked. The dad who loved me and doted on me was gone.”

“I didn’t know Mrs. S lost a daughter.”

He looked perplexed. The all-knowing Wilson McCray didn’t know something about a woman who he’d adopted into his inner circle.

“No? I know she spoke to Letty’s parents after their daughter was murdered.”

Typical of my grandmother, she’d spent a lot of time with the Welshes guiding them through their grief even though I knew it was hard for my gram to talk about my mother’s death.

Wilson frowned and brought the conversation back to my father.

“Gone?”

“Yep. Totally checked out. My grandmother says it’s because he loved my mother so much he was lost without her. He threw himself into his work. It was like I wasn’t even there.”

His frown deepened into a scowl and if I was misreading the emotion rolling off of him, disgust.

“You lost your mother,” he seethed.

The venom in his tone took me by surprise.

“Yes,” I whispered.

“And he let you swing while he wallowed.”

No one other than my grandparents ever understood my issues with my father. To the medical community he was a saint. His friends and colleagues sang his praises. Not a single one of them saw me—the daughter he’d abandoned to pursue his career. Growing up, my friends thought it was great my dad often left me alone. To them it was a dream come true, no parental supervision. I could essentially do whatever I wanted. None of them understood how lucky they were to have parents who set boundaries and gave a shit about them.

“Fuck, Atlee.” Those strong fingers flexed. “I’m so sorry.”

“It is what it is.”

“No, princess, it’s not. It’s fucked.”

He wasn’t wrong about that.

“You’re right. But it doesn’t change anything. He is who he is. And I only have to deal with him one day a week for about ten minutes then he rings off and I go about my day.”

“But not before he gives you shit,” he surmised.

I shrugged.

“He wanted me to be a doctor like him. Anything less is a disappointment.”

Wilson’s blue eyes blazed.

Thankfully Jack came into the living room. He was dressed like Wilson, only his sleep pants were an army green.

“Afternoon,” Jack rumbled. “Cat texted she’s on her way to the track with Martin, and Rhode called, said he texted you but hasn’t heard back.”

“You think maybe you can put some clothes on,” Wilson grunted.

Jack’s black eyes lifted from the bowl of cereal he’d poured, darted from Wilson to me, and he smiled.

He was completely unfazed by Wilson’s tone or obvious demand.

Brave.

Though Jack looked like he could handle himself in a tussle. Whereas Wilson was bulky muscle with some definition in his abs, Jack was lean and cut. I glanced at Jack’s shoulders and biceps then to Wilson beside me. Wilson was broader, more muscular through his shoulders. They seemed to be matched perfectly in the arms.

“Enjoying yourself, princess?”

“Um…”

Apparently, Wilson didn’t find me amusing.

“We’ll be out in a minute. Use that time to get a shirt.”

I found myself being directed to the bedroom.

Normally, a man directing me anywhere—but especially with his hand cupped around the back of my neck—would earn him at the very least a punch to the gut. But not Wilson. I found his display of over-the-top behavior a turn-on.

It would seem a weekend of really great sex had turned me to the dark side. Though, I wasn’t sure another man could pull off the neck grab and authority the way Wilson did.

Wilson’s hand dropped to shut the door. I was divested of my coffee. Both of our mugs hit the dresser. Then I was backing up as Wilson stalked forward.

“There’s nowhere to run, princess.”

Eek.

Why did that sound so sexy?

I hadn’t made it more than a few feet before Wilson’s hand was gliding over my cheek.

“So fucking beautiful.”

His mouth slammed down, my lips parted, and he kissed me. Long, drugging stokes of his tongue. He tasted of coffee and toothpaste. A combination that shouldn’t’ve been appealing yet on Wilson it was intoxicating.

I pressed closer, needing more.

With a growl that sent me spiraling, his hand shoved down the front of my sweats. And like the master he was, the pad of his finger hit my clit with precision. The slow circles his finger made contrasted the deep wild kiss. The conflicting sensations confused my senses. My hips rocked, wanting more pressure. The rest of me melted into his kiss. My breasts felt heavy and ached to be touched.

By the time he broke the kiss I was nothing more than a needy ball of desire.

“What do you need, sweet Atlee?”

“You.”

His fingers slid through my wet.

“Is this what you need?” he asked as he shoved two fingers inside of me.

Yes!

His fingers pumped. My hips rocked faster.

So close but I needed more.

Wantedmore.

“Say it,” he growled.

“More.”

“Tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you.”

Bastard.

He knew what I wanted.

“I want you,” I moaned.

“You have me.”

If only that was the truth.

The man knew my body. Knew exactly what to do to keep me reaching for my climax. His fingers kept me where he wanted—right on the edge.

“I want your dick.”

In a flurry of motion he ripped my sweats and panties down my legs. I kicked them off with a desperation I wasn’t proud of. Wilson shoved his pants down just far enough for his dick to spring free. Then I was up and planted on his erection. A moan tore from my throat as my inner muscles contracted around the violent intrusion.

“Fuck, I missed you.”

I didn’t have the wherewithal to contemplate the reverence I heard. Suddenly I was on my back and my world narrowed to Wilson and his dick driving deep, his strong hands under me lifting my ass off the bed, his weight pressing me onto the mattress. I was completely mindless with pleasure. No longer reaching for my orgasm but drowning in it. Over and over I pulsed around him. The tremors made it impossible for me to do more than lay there and take his punishing thrusts.

“Christ. Nothing feels as good as you.”

Wilson sank his teeth into my shoulder blade and stilled.

My eyes closed as I absorbed the power of his orgasm. His dick twitched and jerked as he exploded with a muffled groan.

I’d never felt anything like it.

Long moments later when he pulled out and came up on his elbows, I understood why.

He was leaking out of me.

“Didn’t use a condom, baby.”

No, he didn’t.

Shit.

“I’m on the birth control shot but I always use protection. Nothing’s a hundred percent.”

“You have nothing to worry about from me.”

That was great and all, but…

“Are you always safe?” I pushed.

“Well, not always.” He gave me a wry smile. “But I haven’t had sex without a condom in over a decade. My physical was a few months ago and I’m clear.”

Phew.

“Okay.”

“What about you?”

“I’ve never had sex without a condom.” I paused to return his smile. “Except of course with you. I go every three months for my shot and during the last visit I had a very unnecessary STD test since I hadn’t had sex since my last test. And there hasn’t been anyone but you since that test.”

God, why was talking about health tests and sexual partners so freaking embarrassing? It shouldn’t be, yet it was.

And it was made worse when Wilson tipped his head to the side and studied me.

“What?” I snapped.

“Just trying to puzzle out how a woman as beautiful as you who goes wild at the slightest touch could go without sex for as long as you did.”

“Easy. Sex was boring. And I don’t go wild.”

“Princess, all it takes is me kissing you and you light up.”

He wasn’t wrong.

Smug bastard.

“Yeah, well, what can I say? You’re good with your mouth.”

“My poor Atlee,” he tsked.

“Your poor Atlee is leaking all over the bed. I need the bathroom.”

Wilson didn’t move. Or he didn’t move to roll off of me, but he did move his hand between my legs. His fingers slid through our combined release.

“Fuck, that’s hot.”

His fingers slid back inside and my hips jerked at the contact.

“Oh, yeah, I missed this greedy little pussy of yours.”

That snapped me back to reality.

He didn’t miss me, he missed fucking me.

My eyes narrowed.

“I’m not greedy.”

Wilson lowered his mouth to my jaw and scraped his teeth up to my ear.

“That sweet mouth of yours can lie, but this…” he shoved his fingers deep and I clenched around them, “tells the truth.”

I had a feeling he was right.

However, before I could embarrass myself and beg him to fuck me again there was a loud knock on the door.

Wilson’s head turned toward the noise.

“Do not open that door,” he barked.

“Don’t need the warning. You weren’t exactly quiet. Rhode called again, he said it was urgent.”

I felt my face flame and my body turned to stone.

How humiliating.

“Be out in a minute.”

“Is that a minute like—”

“Finish that and die,” Wilson growled.

Jack’s laughter could be heard through the door.

Yep. Humiliating.

Wilson rolled, taking me with him until we were both on our feet.

“Clean up, princess. I need to call Rhode back.”

I stood and watched Wilson walk into the bathroom.

I did this with his come rolling down my thigh.

Welp.

My plan failed.

Epically.