Page 37 of The Rebel King

“How were you when we were together ten years ago?”

She shrugs one shoulder. “Sure. I knew the first night in Amsterdam I would sleep with you. This from a twenty-one-year-old virgin.” She glances up, speculation in the look she gives me. “How were you?”

I cast my mind back to the darkened streets of Amsterdam and the first blush of what we had. “I was shocked that we’d found each other again, and I was determined to make the most of it.”

“You mean by having sex?” she asks, her grin wry.

“No. I mean, yeah. Of course that was part of it. But mostly, I knew we would be going our separate ways after a week, and I wanted as much of you as I could possibly get before then.” I hesitate before going on. “And I was conflicted because you didn’t know about my family—my last name, who I really was.”

“You’re wrong. I was wrong. I knew exactly who you were. I know it caused problems, but now I’m glad I met you before I knew you were a Cade. You’re not your last name. You’re not your father. You’re someone wholly unique. I don’t know that I would have been able to see that if I’d known you were a Cade right off the bat.”

I resolve to tell her about the geotracker.

“Now I know you’re a Cade,” she says, tipping up to kiss my lips, “and I still want you.”

“Is that a fact?” I ask, smiling lazily.

She walks to the bedroom, the swing of her hips mesmerizing.

“I believe you said something about me deep throating your cock?” She raises her eyebrows, all innocent.

I’m on her in seconds, scooping her up. The geotracker can wait until tomorrow. This erection has waited long enough.

CHAPTER 13

LENNIX

Run.

The word pounds through my head like footsteps as soon as I wake. My arms and legs practically tingle with the need to move. A glance at my bedside clock tells me it’s only five in the morning. There’s a gym in my building where I often work out before dressing and then eating breakfast at Royal, where Maxim ambushed me and declared his intentions, as they were.

In my bed, he holds me from behind, his grip as tight and possessive in sleep as when he’s awake. We’ve only been back three days, but having him here has me imagining how our lives could be, our dreams intertwining, our goals intersecting.

Our bodies interlocking.

Good Lord, this man can fuck.

As promised, his cock was as far as it could possibly go down my throat after my friends left, but he repaid the favor. The girl who chases stars finds them every time we make love. I didn’t know any better when he lied in that alleyway and told me you sometimes find the connection we have with others.

You don’t.

I never have, and I have no desire to keep searching.

“Nix,” he sleepily mumbles into the curve of my neck, his arms tightening around me. One hand wanders to my breast, and evenhalf-asleep, he squeezes. My body responds instantly, my nipples pebbling, and I’m wet in seconds. If he wakes up, that’s it. No run. No early start to a day I’m determined will be more normal than the last three have been.

The doctor warned me I might have bad dreams after the traumatic events. Bad dreams are nothing new for me. I haven’t had any about the ordeal in Costa Rica, but somethingisoff. Flashes of fear, unease? Something I can’t articulate but makes a liar of me when I say I’m fine. Something has retreated inside me, threatened by death and mayhem, but it’s time to advance. Kimba and I have the opportunity of a lifetime managing Owen’s campaign. I won’t allow “Abe” to derail that. And Owen deserves my full attention. He’s been amazing, making sure I was okay and telling me to take my time coming back, but I have to resume my regularly scheduled life.

I ease from the comfort of Maxim’s powerful arms, careful not to wake him. After we made love, he jumped on a call to Hong Kong and must have been up long after I fell into a love-drowsed sleep. I woke briefly when he slipped into bed and pulled me into his arms, but only long enough to kiss him and fall back asleep. He needs to rest. I thoughtIworked hard. This man never stops but also never seems to tire. He’s a phenomenon.Myphenomenon. I’ve never been with a man like Maxim. Thereareno men like Maxim. Not for me.

Run.

I stand, pad into my closet, and slip on my running gear. In minutes, my hair is pulled into a ponytail, my sneakers are on, and I’m ready to go. I pause as I’m leaving the room to glance at my bed. The predawn light teases the strong lines of his face from the shadows. He’s beautiful, there’s no denying that, but beyond his physical beauty, he’s principled and brilliant and funny.

And so damn intense.

If I leave now, there might still be time for a morning quickie when I return. I step into the hall and jump when a large man witha jagged scar bisecting his forehead stands right outside my door, his eyes as alert as if it’s noon instead of just past five a.m.

Mena referenced Maxim’s “battalion,” but this is my first time encountering it. First order of business when I return from my run is to get rid of all this security. It’s unnecessary and impractical now that there’s no real threat. Are they going on the campaign trail with me? Hopping planes to crisscross the country as I follow Owen to all the states we need to hit? I don’t think so.

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