Page 128 of Kings & Corruption

The next thing I knew, I was being herded into the passenger seat of the Hummer.

“How will Rock and Neo get home?” Now I was slurring both from drunkenness and sleepiness.

“Don’t worry about them,” Oscar said, reaching over me to grab the seat belt.

He fastened it, his face close to mine, and I took the opportunity to lick the seam of his luscious lips.

He let out a growl and stared into my eyes, his face only an inch away. “You’re pushing it, tiger.”

“Maybe I want to push it,” I said, teasing his lips with the tip of my tongue again.

I definitely did. I wanted to push it so fucking badly.

He sighed and closed his eyes as if for strength, then straightened and shut the door.

Chapter59

Willa

“We’re home.”

I opened my eyes to find Oscar leaning over me in the passenger seat, his dark eyes looking at me with something that might have been warmth but might just as easily have been pity.

“What…?” I tried to remember what was going on. It came back to me a second later: Ruby’s, too many drinks, Joshua Ryan. “Did I fall asleep?”

He chuckled, low and sexy. “All the way home. Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

I moved carefully, testing my legs, but I already felt more sober than I had at the club.

I walked with him to the door of the house where he disarmed the alarm, then armed it again.

“Let’s go, tiger.”

The house was dark and quiet as we climbed the back stairs to the second floor.

He opened the door to my room and followed me inside where I collapsed onto my bed, flinging myself back on the mattress.

I sighed. “I love bed.” I was no longer smashed, but I was still feeling loose.

“I’m sure bed loves you back.” He turned on the bedside light and the room was bathed in a soft glow.

I heard the zipper on my boots, then felt him work them off my feet. He rubbed along my arch and I moaned in pleasure.

“Jesus, tiger. I think it’s time for me to go,” he said, standing.

I sat up quickly, trapping him between my legs and running my hands up his thighs, over his stomach and chest.

“What if I don’t want you to go?” I asked, looking up at him.

And I didn’t. I really didn’t.

He leaned his head back and looked at the ceiling, then took my hands, still on his chest. “You know you’re killing me right?”

“I mean it,” I said. There was nothing playful in my voice now, and while I wasn’t stone-cold sober, I also wasn’t hammered. I knew what I was doing. What I wanted. “Stay.”

He looked down at me, his eyes liquid. “You’re drunk.”

I could hear the concern in his voice, not that I was drunk, but that I didn’t know what I was doing, that I would regret it in the morning.

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