Chapter Nineteen

This was the first "real" signing, and Daphne had been so excited. Yet once she got there, it wasn't what she expected.

The problem was Chris. Oh, fine, Chris himself wasn't a problem. The opposite, actually, which was the problem. She'd come to see and hear readers, and the only person she could see and hear was Chris, standing at the podium, talking to those readers.

She could blame her vantage point. She was seated at the signing table, next to the podium, where she was facing Chris. But she could watch the audience if she turned her head. It was just so damned hard to do that when he was standing up there, bathed in light, his voice seeming to come from the speakers all around her.

Mine.

That's what her brain kept saying. Her brain and other body parts.

Mine, mine, mine.

There was no note of propriety in the words. It was the giggling chant of a gleeful inner girl, turning cartwheels with delight. He was hers.

Chris was talking about the book, and she was struggling hard to pay attention, but all she could hear was his words from earlier.

I'm going to be completely selfish right now and admit that I would never, in a million years, want to give up the chance to spend time with you, to get to know you better… to fall in love with you.

After Anthony, Daphne hadn't given up on love. She'd known there was someone out there for her, but it became that much harder to open up and take a chance. Holing up in the wilderness and taking a break from dating was a lot easier when your choices were Robbie and, well, Robbie.

Chris was worth taking that chance on, and now she could only stare at him and try not to think of a couple hours from now, when she'd have him all to herself.

For now, she'd share him with this audience, and when she could pull herself away from starry-eyed gaping, she could see just how wonderful he was with them. Articulate, charming, witty, even modest now that he'd thrown off the jerky parts of the Zane persona for good. Chris was being himself up there, and the audience loved it.

Would Daphne be able to measure up? Would readers be as captivated by her once the truth came out?

It wasn't just that she lacked that jawline, those biceps, that wavy dark blond hair. It was that she lacked the confidence to stand up there and talk about her book and presume anyone gave a damn. But she'd need to develop it, and this was how she'd do that.

She'd look out and see the barely teen girl clutching Edge in both hands. She'd see the college-aged one reading it, still on the first few chapters but too engrossed to even glance at Zane. She'd see the two women in their forties, whispering excitedly and just when she thought it was about Zane, one would crack open the book to show a part she'd bookmarked. She'd see the man standing at the back with two copies in his hand, for himself or loved ones, it didn't matter.

She could do this. She would do this.

Being in the spotlight would be hard, but this part would make up for it—getting out here and meeting readers and letting them know how much they mattered.

Following Sakura's advice, the event was structured as a very short talk followed by a longer QA period. At first, no one seemed to have questions, but once a few got up the nerve to ask—and weren't immediately incinerated for their burst of extroversion—more put their hands up and then more and more until Sakura noticed some of the audience getting restless and called for "one more question from someone who hasn't had a chance yet."

Chris answered that, and while the staff gave instructions for the signing line, he came over to sit beside Daphne.

He leaned in. "How'd I do?"

"Amazing, as always."

He grinned, his face lighting up, and he leaned closer, hand grasping her arm in a quick squeeze. "Now we see how fast I can sign?"

"I've got my timer."

Another grin and another arm squeeze, and Daphne noticed they'd caught the attention of some attendees, who whispered and pointed, and if any were disappointed to discover that Zane Remington had a girlfriend, they didn't show it.

The last person stepped up. It was a staff member. All the staff had waited until the end. Some obviously were just adding to their collection of signed books, but this one—a teenage girl—smiled shyly and pushed the book forward.

"It was great," she said. "Really."

"Ask him!" one of her colleagues shouted.

The girl rolled her eyes. "He's not going to tell me."

"She wants to know who Theo ends up with!" the colleague called.

"Ah. That is an excellent question. I believe Daphne here knows the answer." He glanced over. "Who does Theo end up with, D?"

"Whoever is the best choice for her as a person," Daphne said. "Whoever challenges her to grow and trust herself the most, and whoever supports and trusts her the most."

A few claps from the staff group.

"Well, there's your answer," Chris said. "Whoever challenges and supports Theo the most. Which means in the end, it'll be Theo and Mochi, together forever."

Laughter, and the young woman looked at Daphne. "That is a good answer, and it means it's going to be Atticus."

Daphne only smiled, and Chris reached under the table to squeeze her hand. It was a good answer. A really good answer. Also, he was totally rooting for Atticus. Did authors' boyfriends get to ask for series spoilers? He was going to find out.

The author's boyfriend. Daphne's boyfriend. He liked the sound of that. He also liked lover, partner, fiancé…

Whoa. Slow down there.

He smiled. He wouldn't rush it, but there was nothing wrong with knowing where he'd like to end up.

He signed the book and said a few words. While he'd joked about speed-signing, there was a limit to how fast he could go without making people feel like he had somewhere better to be. Which he did, but that was no insult to the readers. Right now, he couldn't imagine anything that would be fair competition to his late-evening plans.

As Sakura herded the staff away, Chris laid his hand on Daphne's thigh, hidden under the long tablecloth. Then he played with the hem of her skirt, letting his fingers slide along the inside of her thigh, keeping them low. Nothing too risqué but it still made her lips part.

"Was I fast enough?" he whispered.

"Very fast."

"And that's the last time you're going to say that tonight."

A stifled laugh. Then she leaned his way. "Is that a promise?"

"It's a guarantee. That's the only reason you haven't had a midnight knock on your door. I am an expert at self-control."

"Are you now?" She leaned closer, her own hand sliding up his thigh. "That sounds like a challenge."

"It is absolutely a—"

"Zane?" Sakura called. When he looked over, she waved. "Come for a staff photo."

He started to rise, and then sat quickly.

"Everything okay?" Daphne whispered.

He looked down.

She followed his gaze. "Ah. I see. Well, no. To properly see it, I'd need to reach over and unzip your—"

"Not helping," he said, through his teeth.

"Just hold a copy of the book over your crotch," she said.

"Distract them, please, while I recite a few formulas."

"Will you do it out loud?" she whispered. "Math is so sexy."

He shot her a glare. She reached across him and grabbed a book.

"Just a sec!" she called. "He doesn't want to forget to sign these."

There were a few books at his elbow that had been bought by people who hadn't been able to make it. Daphne pulled the small stack over.

"Actually, that's better," Sakura said. "Everyone get behind the table with Zane!"

He pulled in his chair so fast that Daphne snickered. As the staff came over, she tried to step aside but Sakura said "No, no, stay there," which Chris appreciated. Daphne should be in the photo. He gave her a book to hold, which would be even better—once the truth came out, the store would still have pictures of the actual author with the book.

"All right then," Sakura said after the photos were done. "Before we go, Zane, are you okay with signing store stock?"

Uh…

He cleared his throat. "Of course."

By now, he could stand, and he walked to the rack holding the remaining half dozen copies of Edge. In a few days, they'd be collectors' items with the original "Zane" signature. Just six books to sign and then—

Wheels squeaked. He looked up as one staff member appeared, pushing a trolley full of books, another behind her… with another trolley.

"All the regional chain stores sent their stock," Sakura said. "That's why we only hit indies this afternoon."

"I… see."

"A signed book is a sold book," Sakura chirped.

"Now how fast can you sign?" Daphne whispered.

"Call Guinness," he whispered back. "Because I'm about to set a world record."

The books were signed. All two hundred of them. Did they want to make sure he didn't have the use of his fingers tonight?

Apparently, he was going to have some time to recover, because the damned town car had left. Sakura had booked it for four hours, and when nine thirty hit, the driver calculated that he couldn't get them back to the hotel by ten and declared his shift done. That left Sakura scrambling for a replacement. Chris had protested that a taxi was fine, but they were in the suburbs, and getting a town car would be faster.

Sakura was spending the night with a local friend, and she'd tried to insist on staying behind, but Daphne had shooed her off.

A few staff members had offered to wait with them, too, but they'd said no, the store was closing and they weren't making anyone stay late.

"We'll be fine," Daphne had said. "I have Zane to protect me."

She'd been teasing. Did he still think it sounded kinda hot? Yes, he did.

Now they were tucked into a shadowy emergency exit as the staff exited, all of them looking over to say goodbye, which really put a damper on the possibilities of that shadowy spot.

Daphne took the time to massage his hand, which he had to admit felt good, her thumb rubbing his palm, her fingers massaging the base of his thumb.

Finally, there was the distant click of a door lock, and the manager waved and called a goodbye as she headed to her car.

"I do believe we're alone," Daphne whispered in his ear.

"Seems like it."

"Absolutely alone." She looked out at the now-empty lot. "Sakura's gone. The staff is gone. There are no security cameras, and the car isn't due to arrive for another twenty minutes. Whatever will we do?"

He pulled her to him in a deep kiss. She was into it for about one minute. Then she pulled back.

"Too public?" he said.

She laughed softly, her eyes glinting in the near dark. "Not at all. Is it too public for you?"

"Not at all."

"Too public if I…?" She fingered his belt buckle. "Unbuttoned this?"

He opened his mouth and had to settle for shaking his head.

"Any restrictions?" she said. "Things you'd rather I didn't do until we're in a more private spot?"

He looked around. As exposed as the spot felt, it really was hidden. No one was going to whip around the corner and get a show.

"This seems private enough to me."

"So no restrictions?"

"None."

She smiled. "Excellent. Then I think I'm going to test that expert self-control of yours."

"Go ahead."

She undid his belt and tugged it from the loops. Then she rolled it up and tucked it into her bag. As she leaned in to kiss him, her hands returned to his waistband, sliding along it before flicking open the button on his fly. Her fingers glided over his abdomen and down in a teasing exploration. A tug on his fly, slow and steady, until it was open.

He pulled her back into a kiss as she reached into his boxers. At first, she deftly avoided touching where he really wanted her to touch. Then her fingers tickled along the length of him, and he groaned, kissing her harder.

Her hand slowly closed around him, seeming to take forever before she had him tight in her grip. At the tingle of a cool breeze, he broke the kiss and looked down.

She'd pushed down his boxers. Her hand slid down him, leaving him exposed. He looked at the parking lot, and yes, it was empty, but he was still standing outside a bookstore with his cock out, rock hard, Daphne's hand sliding down to cup his balls.

"Too much?" she murmured.

He shook his head. While he could hear the roar of distant traffic, everything around them was completely silent and empty. He didn't need to worry about flashing himself to an innocent stranger, but he was still in a public place, the cool night air tickling his cock as Daphne's hand ran along it, and that was hotter than he could have imagined.

With her free hand, Daphne unbuttoned his shirt. Her tongue slid down behind each opened button, and when she made a move to bend her knee, she looked up at him. "Still okay?"

He tried to speak but could only nod. She lowered herself in front of him, and he leaned back against the wall, eyes half closing as her tongue slid along his cock.

He reached to put his hands on her head, not pushing or pulling or speeding her along, but toying with her hair as she toyed with him.

Her tongue slid along him again, and her lips teased—

Tires crunched on pavement.

Chris's eyelids flew open as a black car turned into the parking lot, and his first thought was: It's fine. They can't see us.

Except even if they were hidden, this car was here for them, the driver looking for them.

Daphne quickly stood, shielding him.

"Damn it," she muttered. "They're early. I had a timer set for five minutes before they were supposed to get here." She helped him zip up his trousers. Then she paused, a slow smile on her face. "The cars have a privacy screen, right?"

"They do."

"May I continue in the back seat?"

He grinned. "Absolutely."

Every town car they'd taken had a barrier between the driver and the back seat. And now they got the one damned town car without it.

Daphne had tried to figure out a way around that. Going down on Chris was out of the question. But maybe putting a jacket over his lap and sliding her hand under it?

That would be so much easier if they'd brought a jacket. Or a sweater. Or anything.

"Well, this is inconvenient," she muttered as she glared at the lack of a divider.

Chris chuckled against her ear. "Probably for the best."

"There's that phrase again. Define ‘best.'"

He nuzzled her ear, his fingers toying with the hem of her skirt. "I'd been about thirty seconds from proving that my expert self-control isn't all that expert. Which would not be for the best. Also, the trip back to our hotel is simultaneously too long and too short."

She arched a brow.

He continued, whispering at her ear, "Too long for me to get through it without coming, and too short for me to be ready again once we're out of this car. However…" He inched the skirt up her thighs. "While the length of the ride might be wrong, the length of this skirt is exactly right, along with the angle of the seat and the rearview mirror." He lowered his voice. "I'm a math guy. I can calculate these things."

His fingers slid to the inside of her thigh.

"May I?" he said.

She could only nod mutely.

He took his time, just as she had in the parking lot. She now wished she'd moved a little faster, for his sake, but she'd make up for it soon enough.

As his fingers crept up, her mind went back to that parking lot, to Chris against the wall, his cock rock-hard under her fingers, under her lips, under her tongue.

When his own fingers reached their destination, Chris gave a soft chuckle, finding her as ready as he'd been.

"I was just thinking about you in that parking lot," she whispered.

"You liked that?"

"I did. I just wish I could have had more time."

His fingers slid into her as his mouth came to her ear. "What would you have done if you had more time?"

"Do you kids want something to eat?" the driver asked.

Daphne's legs clamped together so fast, Chris chuckled again. His fingers slid out as he leaned forward.

"Hmm?" he said.

"The lady who called the car said you might want to eat on the way home."

"Mmm, yeah, I could eat something," Chris said. "But I'll wait until I get back."

"You want to go through a drive-thru?"

"Nah." Chris's fingers tickled the inside of her leg. "I've got everything I need right here."

Daphne bit her cheek to keep from laughing.

He leaned to her ear. "How about you? Up for a little something to eat when we get back?"

"Oh, I wouldn't call it little."

He laughed against her ear. "Good. Then we can both enjoy—"

"So where you kids from?" the driver asked.

Chris looked from Daphne to the driver. She eased back in the car, removing his fingers from her thigh.

"Soon," she whispered. "Think of it as building an appetite."

He shook his head and then answered the driver's question.

The driver eventually returned to driving, which allowed Chris to return his attention to Daphne. He also returned his fingers to her thighs, sliding them up under her skirt, slowly, as if expecting the driver to start chatting again. When the driver turned up the radio, Chris relaxed, and she did, too.

Chris's fingers reached the edge of her panties, and he leaned into her ear.

"These seem to be in my way," he said, plucking the lace of her panties.

Her breath caught, and she glanced at the driver, who was busy watching traffic as they entered the city. Also, the seat would clearly block his view even if he did glance back.

"I'm sure I can get past them if you'd rather not take them off," he whispered.

"Do it for me," she said.

His grin sparked. While she kept an eye on the driver, Chris slid her panties down, managing it far more gracefully than she would have. Then, panties balled in his fist, he tucked them into her bag.

Chris checked the driver again. The seat firmly blocked the man's view, but Daphne still inched a little Chris's way as his hand slid back under her skirt. His fingers grazed her inner thigh, but this time there was no tickling advance. They slid straight in, making her gasp.

"Better?" he said.

She could only nod. Then she realized her expression was probably not rearview mirror appropriate and quickly smoothed out her features. It wasn't easy. Chris took zero time finding the right spot, and he might have joked about being an expert at self-control, but he was an expert at this.

She pretended to look out the side window, like nothing was happening, like she wasn't in the back seat of a town car, panties off, Chris toying with her clit like a goddamn pro. And it was…

Hot.

Damn it was hot.

An exercise in self-control, indeed.

Her fingers dug into the leather seat, and she let out the smallest gasp, her breath coming fast. Then her legs snapped shut.

"Stop?" he said as he paused.

"No, just…" She swallowed. "Give me a sec." She snuck a look his way, trying to bring her temperature down a notch. "Anything I can do for you?"

"Yes, but it'd be tricky. And you might not want to."

"Tell me."

He whispered into her ear. "Take off your bra."

Heat singed through her. It started at her cheeks, but then it surged all the way down.

"Up to you," he whispered. "It's always up to you."

She was wearing a rare button-up blouse. A D-cup usually meant no button-ups, but this one fit her well enough not to strain. If she took off her bra… The blouse was teal blue, and no one could see through it but yes, it would be obvious she wasn't wearing a bra.

So what?

There wasn't a "no bra, no service" sign on the hotel door, and they'd be going straight up to her room.

She slid her hands up her back. The clasp let go with a snap of relief. Getting it off discreetly was, as Chris said, a bit tricky. But the blouse was loose, and she was determined, and soon it was in her hand and then in her bag.

"Nicely done, Houdini," Chris said.

"I was properly motivated."

He smiled. "Yeah, I bet that gets uncomfortable."

"Oh, not that." She leaned over and snuggled against him. "You told me to take it off, and I am in the mood to do as I'm told."

That grin sparked again. "Are you?"

"You know how some people like to be behind the wheel and some like to take the passenger seat? I like both. Switch it up."

"Then, as long as I'm driving…" His hands went back under her skirt. "Sit back and enjoy."

Daphne glanced forward, making absolutely sure the driver couldn't see anything. Then she relaxed.

Chris's fingers found their place, and he leaned toward her ear. "Do you know how hot you look right now?"

She closed her eyes and struggled to keep her expression neutral as he worked his magic. Her rock-hard nipples pressed against the fabric, and with his free hand, he pulled her blouse tight, as if getting a better look.

"You sure you want to go back to the hotel room?" he whispered. "I could take you out dancing. Show you off."

She groaned and parted her legs a little more.

"You like that?" he said with a low chuckle. "Take you dancing like this? No panties, no bra, looking so damned hot? I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off you. Get you into a dark corner, pull up your skirt and…"

He whispered the rest. She bit back a hard gasp as the first wave hit. He didn't stop. Not with his fingers and not with his words, spinning the most deliciously dirty fantasy as waves of orgasm rocked her. When they slowed, she snuggled into him and slid her hand down to his crotch, where he was so damned hard—

"Here we are!" the driver chirped.

Daphne flew back away from Chris, who only chuckled and reached past her for the curbside door. He helped her out and remembered her bag. He even carried it, which was so thoughtful and not at all because he needed it to hide the erection tenting his trousers.

Two seconds later, they were in an empty elevator.

"Cameras?" Chris said.

She looked around the ancient elevator. "I don't see any."

"Good."

He swung around and pinned her against the wall, shoving her skirt up as he wrapped her legs around—

The bell dinged, and he spun around, just as the doors opened. A guy got on and hit the button for the next floor. He looked over at Daphne, his gaze settling on her chest, where it was—yep—really obvious she wasn't wearing a bra.

Chris moved to block the guy's view. The elevator stopped again, and the guy got out. The moment the doors closed, Chris had her against the wall, hiking her skirt as he pressed into her.

She double-checked. Definitely no cameras? All right then. She pulled her skirt up around her bare hips so she could lock her legs around him better, and pressed into him. As he kissed her, his fingers went to her shirt buttons. A brief pause, making sure she was okay with it, and when she didn't react, he unbuttoned them and reached in to cup her breasts—

The elevator dinged, and she jumped.

"Our floor," Chris said.

He set her down, shielding her as the doors opened until he seemed confident no one was around. Then he squeezed her bare ass before letting her skirt fall and putting his hand around her waist.

"Coast is clear," he said as he leaned out of the elevator. "Up to you whether you want to button up. I'll just be unbuttoning it again the moment we're in our room."

She read the challenge there. The sexiest kind of challenge, where he was suggesting something just a little bit dirty, and giving her every opportunity to say no.

She left the shirt unbuttoned after he made sure the hall was indeed clear. Then he led her to his room, pressed her up against the wall, and kissed her again. Another challenge? All right then. She hiked her skirt and got her legs around him, the air-conditioning from the hall cool against her bare ass. He spread her shirt wide as his hands cupped her breasts. His fingers teased her nipples, making her gasp. A quick look up and down the hall, and she slid her hand between them, flicking open his button and then unzipping his fly and reaching in.

His one hand left her breast and he pulled back, wordlessly lifting the key card.

"Probably wise," she whispered against his ear. "Unless you want me riding you in the hallway."

His breath caught, and she grinned. She pulled his cock out of his boxers, her hand wrapped tight around him while she listened for anyone in the hall. Then she arched up and rubbed the tip of him against her, letting herself close around that tip. He gasped and fumbled to open the hotel room door so fast she had to laugh.

He swung them inside, and the door was still closing when he had her against the wall, skirt up. She reached and wrapped her hand around him.

"Do that again," he rasped.

"Yes sir." She pulled him into her, just a little and he let out a deep groan.

"Or maybe not," he said. "Or you'll see how bad my self-control is."

"Good." She leaned toward his ear. "Show me how little self-control you can have, Chris Stanton. That's what I really want to see."

He chuckled. "Good thing I brought a full box of protection."

"Only one box? Then it's a good thing I brought my own."

She put her arms around his neck and pulled her to him.