Page 151 of Mr. Wicked

I smiled.

He’d used my own words against me.

As he looked at me, I mocked him and said, “What do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean.”

We were at a red light, about to get on the highway, and he was holding the back of my head, leading me toward his mouth.

“Like I said, you make me wiggly.”

“And sucking my cock like that took care of it?”

“Until we get home and I can ride you.”

“Jovana”—he sighed, shaking his head—“you’re something else.”

I winked. “I know.”

“But more importantly, you’re mine.”

Before I could respond, he was kissing me, owning my mouth in a way that backed up everything he’d just said.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Grayson

Easton: Dude, have you seen the membership numbers this morning?

Me: No, why?

Holden: Of course he hasn’t. His head has been between Jovana’s legs all morning ...

Me: Not a bad guess, asshole. But she’s been wedding dress shopping and I’ve been assigned the task of picking out the band for the reception. I’ve been listening to goddamn demos for the last two hours.

Easton: Pause the music and look at our numbers.

Me: Holy shit, we jumped THAT much in just a couple of days?

Easton: The ads are working, my man. They love seeing your face all over their feed.

Holden: No, they love seeing Jovana’s face all over their feed, let’s be honest.

Me: You’re absolutely right about that, motherfucker. It’s all her, not me.

Easton: You know this means that the marriage arm is now 28% over our objective. We’ve not only made up for all the lost revenue and memberships, but we’ve exceeded our original goal.

Me: What’s this we shit? I’ve made up the lost revenue while you two sat on your asses and ordered me around.

Holden: And you’ve loved every second of it.

Me: Oh yeah, getting bombarded on social media with endless notifications and comments is my fucking jam. I love nothing more in life than reading everyone’s opinion about me.

Easton: But look where it got you.

Holden: And look who it got you.

Easton: And look who it’s turned you into.

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