Nope. Go slow. Go. Slow.

I let out a frustrated groan, as my fingers slide along her torso, not stopping until I reach the curvature of her hip. My heart thunders at the mental image of my handprint on her ass. She stirs against me, and the angle puts space between my cock and her. Disappointment thrums through my body, but it does give room for my hand.

Reaching down, I pull myself free from my boxer briefs and begin to stroke myself, my head still resting against Cher. I close my eyes, imagining the way I’d fuck her right now, pressing my dick into her warm, tight space. I’d give her passion and heat—and then make her beg me to let her come.

I swallow at the memory of her sweet pussy clenching around my fingers. My cock explodes in my hand, and I catch my cum, stifling the groan in my chest. One of these days, I’ll shove this cock in her. But I also know the moment that happens, I’ll have to answer to Henry. I already know that reckoning is coming anyway, and she’s worth all the hell I’ll pay.

Cher tips her head back against me, her eyes fluttering open and meeting mine. “What’re you doing?” Her voice is groggy with sleep...and full of suspicion.

I blink twice, ignoring the heat rushing to my cheeks. “Nothing.” I clear my throat, readjust myself, and wipe my hand behind us. Mental note: wash the sheets today. “What are you doing in my bed?”

She shrugs, rolling over to face me. “This is my apartment. I can sleep wherever I want, Jude.”

I raise a brow. “So why not go bother your brother then?”

Her nose wrinkles. “Gross.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” I roll onto my back and place my arms behind my head.

“Right,” she snickers from beside me. “Speaking of, I should probably leave...I don’t know what he’d do if—”

The sound of the doorknob jarring causes her to eyes to widen. I jump up from the bed, and head for it, thankful I locked it.

“Jude, why do you keep locking the fucking door?” Henry’s irritation is palpable, and I turn back to Cher, who’s already rushing for the closet. She motions at me to open the door, and I run my hand over my face.

This is fucking ridiculous.

“Sorry,” I mutter as I swing the door open. “What’s up?”

“You jerking off in here or something?” Henry chuckles as he steps inside.

Yeah, right over your sister’s ass.

“Just sleeping,” I say stupidly. “I need to finish the profile for Banks. I was working on that last night when I got back and didn’t want to risk anyone walking in on it.”

“Like my sister?” Henry snorts. “I don’t think she’s got any interest in what we do. She hates my career.”

“Yeah, I don’t know.” I rub the back of my neck, smelling a hint of her perfume on my skin. “Anyway, I’ll finish that up. What’re you gonna do today?”

“Wait on you, I guess,” Henry mumbles, dropping down on the edge of the bed. “We’ve been here for two weeks now. I’m ready to get this over with and start the actual vacation. I’m tired of trailing him. We should’ve taken care of him at the party.”

“Yeah...” I wake up the computer, and quickly exit out of the windows—which may or may not have been related to figuring out who the hell was flirting with Cher last night. I pull up the tag I put on Jaxton Banks, and then let out a sigh. “This city is so chaotic you can hit him any time.” I think.

“Yeah, last night would’ve been fucking great, considering some guy overdosed and died. It could’ve been linked together as a bad batch.”

Guess that’s why there were EMTs.

“So, find him at the next party and take care of it,” I reason, just as my phone buzzes. I glance down to see a notification that Cher’s tracker has been disabled.

That’s weird...

I glance over to the closet. I didn’t see her take her phone—and the only way to disable it is for it to be replaced. Is it a fluke or is someone else trailing her?

“He seems to like costume parties.”

“What?” I rip my eyes away from the screen.

Henry frowns. “Jaxton. He likes costume parties.”