Page 42 of The Contract

“Who’s Noah?” I ask.

“All you need to know is that in an emergency—and actual fucking emergency—he will help you.”

“He’ll help me … with you.”

I expect him to get angry, to threaten me with something. Instead, I watch some struggle play out in his eyes. Then he says quietly, “Yes.”

FOURTEEN

Dante

Tristan stalls when he sees it’s me driving the Jag instead of Kenzie. There’s no awareness in his face of how gorgeous he is, standing outside Lush in his black pants and black waistcoat over a white shirt. A splash of pink light catches his cheekbone, then it’s gone because he’s moving toward me.

I can already tell he’s still wearing the thong. It’s in his walk. When he opens the passenger door and gets in, it’s in the way he sits.

He might not be aware of how gorgeous he is, but in that thong, he’s very aware of himself as a sexual being. I think it’s new for him, understanding that, and today I forced him to maintain that awareness all day instead of letting it emerge only while I’m fucking him.

“Are you angry?” I ask as I pull away from the curb.

“I don’t know.”

I can tell it’s an honest answer, so I don’t press him on it. Traffic is light at this time of night, so I’m able to watch him from the corner of my eye as I drive. The signs of his arousal are subtle. I think he’s trying to hide it. But I notice his quickened breathing, the tension in his jaw and his body. By the time I park in the garage, he’s looking out the window, away from me.

I pretend not to notice. I leave him alone completely until we’re in the elevator. Then I step behind him. My arms go around him, one hand on his chest, the other on his semi-hard cock. He sucks in a breath at the contact. Then he makes a needful little sound when he feels the press of my erection against his ass.

I still don’t say anything. I just stroke him through his pants. His cock stiffens against my hand. When the elevator doors open, I let him go. He still doesn’t look at me, not even when we enter my penthouse.

I had Kenzie pick up Thai takeout earlier, but food will have to wait tonight. We have other things to deal with first.

I stop him in the entryway. I stand in front of him and start unbuttoning his waistcoat. He doesn’t fight me, but he doesn’t help either.

“Are you upset that I made you wear it all night, or are you upset that you liked it?”

His confused eyes jump to mine. “I don’t know how to feel.”

I push his waistcoat off his shoulders. “How many times did you get aroused tonight?”

He pulls his arms free. His eyes drop away. “A lot.”

“Look at me.” When his eyes come up again, I ask, “And what were you thinking about when it happened?”

“You.”

“Doing what?”

“Fucking me.”

“In the thong?”

He swallows hard. “Yes.”

“And why does that bother you?”

“I told you I don’t know!” His chest starts heaving. His fists clench.

“I think you do know.”

“Oh fuck off!” He spins away from me and storms into the kitchen.

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