Page 82 of House of Lies

I freeze, less so for his casual comment than for him.

Hair dried to his satisfaction—although still damp and gleaming—Ethan smooths a hand down the front of his button-down shirt. He’s wearing a pair of charcoal suit pants with a subtle pinstripe design. His dark gray dress shirt with its black buttons matches it perfectly and turns his eyes into the color of a violent thunderstorm.

He looks… breathtaking.

Which is probably why I’m struggling to get air into my lungs.

“Yeah, uh…just…” I swallow hard, wave a hand around. “The open house. This dress.” I tug on the hem of the cocktail dress. “Don’t want to mess anything up.”

“That’s such a good color on you,” he says, raking his eyes over my body as he steps close enough to adjust my necklace. I couldn’t bear leaving it off today, and it seems to go with the outfit, so I left it nestled in my cleavage. “You look absolutely gorgeous.”

With that bomb dropped, he turns and heads for the cellar. “I’m going to whip up some mimosas.”

My body tightens almost reflexively at the word whip, and I hate myself for that.

Just a few more hours, Cassidy.

You can do this.

People arrive to view Ethan’s mansion driving all kinds of luxury vehicles… and a handful of surprisingly modest cars. I keep my game face on—smiling warmly at everyone who walks in before offering them canapés and champagne.

It’s downright surreal seeing Glenmont Manor so full of life. It used to creep me out before, all the empty rooms like open mouths behind my back as I walked down the halls. Now I hear animated voices and laughter, hushed and awed whispers, glasses clinking.

No wonder Ethan wants to sell. I can’t imagine how lonely he would be if he tried to live here by himself.

Why did he buy such a big house, then? Or was it handed down by his father, just like Ethan’s career?

I haven’t seen Ethan since we parted ways earlier, but I’m not that surprised—I’m sure the realtor wouldn’t want the owner of the house skulking around and glaring at the prospective buyers either. Especially not a hulk like Ethan Remington.

I’m leaning over the railing at the top of the stairs, admiring the marble floor in the entrance hall below. Most of the buyers have wandered off to explore the rest of the mansion, and I thought I’d help myself to a mimosa and a five-minute break standing guard over the snack platters in the kitchen.

Damn, those mini burgers were nice.

A hand slides around my waist. I get such a fright, I almost drop the champagne glass I’m holding. I try to turn around, but a large body pins me against the balustrade.

“Think anyone will miss us if we’re gone for a few minutes?” Ethan murmurs in my ear. I gasp when he shoves a hand under my skirt and gives my tender ass a brutal squeeze.

“What are you doing? Someone might—” His growl cuts me off.

I’ve never heard a man make a sound like that before. Something so primal, so urgent.

That’s when I hear voices. One of them sounds like Donald. I nearly wet myself when he recognized me earlier, but thankfully he was so busy staring at my boobs I don’t think he really got a good look at my face.

“Ethan, stop, they’ll—” is all I can manage before he squeezes my ass again and returns my whimper of pain with a warning rumble.

Keeping my body pinned with his, he slides the fingers of his other hand between my legs. When he realizes that I’m not wearing underwear, he groans softly against the side of my neck.

“Do you have any idea how badly I want to fuck you?”

“Yes.” His cock is digging into the top of my ass. How could I not know? “But, Ethan, we?—”

My head spins when he nips at my earlobe. “Open.”

I don’t know why I obey. Maybe it’s because I can barely think straight. I mean, for heaven’s sake, I’m standing out in the open, nothing to shield me from anyone who walks past except Ethan’s body.

But my thighs part, and Ethan claims my pussy with his fingers in a rush that sends a jolt of rapture straight into my core. My mouth gapes, and he draws my lips into a teasing kiss as he plunges his fingers deep inside me.

“Why?” he groans. “Why can’t I control myself around you?”

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