Page 61 of Reckless King

She blinks and swallows, then turns to Aaron. “That’s right. Tate asked, and I said yes.” She looks back at me, her big blue eyes full of uncertainty. “When you know, you know, right?”

Even though she’s saying it for Aaron’s benefit alone, warmth blooms in my chest.

“Yeah, I bet you knew as soon as you saw his bank balance,” Aaron sneers.

I’m in motion before I realize it, my fist meeting his cheek with a satisfying crack. He reels backward, and there’s a shocked scramble of people moving out of the way. They don’t have to worry about there being a fight though. Aaron doesn’t have it in him. I stalk forward, grab him by the lapel and yank him toward me.

When I speak, it’s loud enough for the people nearby us to hear. “Insult my fiancée again,touchher again, and a punch will be the least of your worries.”

I let go of him, and he slumps back against the bar. Then I find Violet’s hand, slide my fingers through hers and stalk off, taking her with me.

“Tate,” she whispers. “Is your hand okay?”

I barely feel it, adrenaline and something else pumping through my system.

“What if he files assault charges?” she asks.

I let out a humorless laugh. “He has too much riding on our company. He’s not stupid. If he wants to watch me get locked up, he’ll see his net value fall dramatically.”

She falls quiet then but squeezes my hand. That simple gesture and what it conveys—that even though my actions justnow were incredibly impulsive, she’s still with me—are more than I can take. I pull her around a corner, and once I’m sure we’re alone, I back her up against the wall, my large body dwarfing hers.

She looks up at me, eyes a wide stormy blue. “We shouldn’t have said what we did.”

“It’s a verbal amendment to the contract,” I say. “We’ll formalize it first thing on Monday.”

“But Tate?—”

Curving my hand around her slender neck, I use my thumb on the angle of her jaw to tilt her face up to mine. I don’t want to talk about the contract right now. I don’t want to talk about terms and conditions. For a moment, I want to forget this is an arrangement. I want to believe what she said before.When you know, you know.

I slide my hand into her hair and pause there. She knows what I’m going to ask. How can she not with the way I’m staring at her mouth?

“Yes,” she whispers, though I haven’t asked the question.

With a groan, I crush my lips to hers.

She opens, letting me in, and her taste engulfs me again, pulling another groan from deep within my chest. Her mouth is hot, soft and so fucking sweet. I cup her jaw, tilting her open even more. The needy sound she makes in response sends a bolt of lust straight to my cock.

I nip her bottom lip, then take her mouth again, tasting her over and over, skating my hand over her hip and waist, drifting it over her throat and the swell of her breasts.

She shivers, then arches into me.

Satisfaction floods my veins. For now, she’s my fiancée. Mine. And she’s responding so perfectly to me, wanting me as much as I want her.

“Tate,” she gasps in between kisses.

I can barely hear her over the blood whooshing in my ears. Desire has a stranglehold on me. My fingers rake up her thighs, sliding under her dress, seeking the hot, wet center of her. I stroke my thumb over the satin of her panties. She’s damp, the material clinging to her sex.

A breath shudders out of her as her hips pulse against my hand.

I could get her off right here. It wouldn’t take long. I could slide my fingers inside her and relish the way she clamps down around them. Just like she did that night at Onyx. I could prove to her what a liar Eric was when he told her she couldn’t satisfy him. I could show her what hearing the shit Aaron said about her did to me.

And yet, after one more taste of her mouth, I force my hand out from under her dress. With my forehead pressed to hers, I smooth the material down over her thighs.

“Tate?” This time, her tone is tentative.

I pull back and survey her. She blinks, her lashes sweeping over the uncertainty in her gaze.

“I want you,” I say. Not for a second do I want her to think that I don’t. “It’s taking all my willpower not to make you come right now. But I won’t touch you again unless I know you’re completely on board with it.”

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