Page 73 of King of Pain

All at once, I realize it’s like the first time all over again for him.

I open to him even further, arching my neck to a better angle. As if he understands, his hand slides up my chest, wrapping around the side of my neck, his fingertips settling in my hair, his thumb resting on my jaw.

He licks at the inside of my mouth, like he can’t get enough of my taste, and I return the kiss, melting into him.

It’s everything I’ve ever yearned for.

So open and intimate.

The car stops, the engine cutting.

Luke slowly draws back, his hand still wrapped around my neck.

“Mr. Kincaid,” the driver calls from outside the door. “We’ve arrived.”

Luke reluctantly pulls away, his hand sliding down my arm to take my hand in his. “Where exactly have we arrived to?” he asks as the door swings open.

The driver steps back, looking confused. “Your house, sir.”

I step out behind him, my jaw dropping. “Shut up.”

Luke scratches his chin. “Why didn’t you say so?”

“I assumed…” the driver’s voice trails off as another man in a black suit approaches.

“Mr. Kincaid,” the man says, gesturing toward the stairs, “I’m Mike Evans. Head of security here. Let’s get you inside.”

Luke narrows his gaze. “All right.”

He takes my hand, following the man up the stairs. “We have a team around the premises to make certain the man who attacked you can’t do it again.”

I feel a moment’s relief but Luke tenses. “How many cars do I have in the garage?”

“Cars?”

“For tinkering… how many?”

Mike’s shoulders slump in obvious relief. “Two for tinkering, sir.”

“And how many for driving?”

Mike turns away with a wince. “None.”

“You’re telling me that I don’t go to the grocery store?”

Mike shakes his head. “Not usually. No. The staff can provide any food you need.”

“And Mason. When does he arrive?”

“He doesn’t, I’m afraid, though Mrs. Kincaid is here in Aspen.”

“Which house is hers?”

Mike points down the street. “I believe Mr. Kincaid—the other Mr. Kincaid—has left her here so that she’ll be safe.”

Luke rumbles a noncommittal response as he steps into the house.

I know something is bothering him, but I wait to ask, as I stop in the entry and just stare. We’re in a massive two-story space with giant wood beams and an impressive mahogany staircase.

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