Page 112 of Illicit Education

But the heart wants what the heart wants.

I pulled my gaze away from what my heart wanted and focused on the road ahead as we pulled into a neighborhood in Whitestone.

Tucked into a cul-de-sac and down at the end of a long driveway, the home was massive.

And it fit him perfectly.

Cabot Reed was a man who valued his privacy, and here, on the water and away from the city, was where he found it.

He opened the door and stepped out of the car–

“Ow, fuck.”

He sat back down quickly, rubbing the bottoms of his feet to knock the loose gravel off. He turned, reaching into the back of the car for his shoes, then paused when our eyes met.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Taken aback, I said, “What?”Thank me? What did I do?

“The way you held your ground back there. With Mina.”

I shrugged. “Oh, well… I just told the truth.”

His lips twitched. “You do have a way of doing that.” After a moment, he turned back to the open car door and pulled on his sneakers with no socks. “Stay there.” He pushed out of the low sports car, then closed the door and strode to my side. It was dark, but even by just the silvery light of the moon, his body was a work of art.

Maybe I could convince him to decree casual Fridays at Reed Publishing…

And by casual, I mean shirtless.

Obviously.

When he reached my side, he opened the door, then bent quickly and picked me up, tossing me back over his shoulder again.

I squealed, slapping at his bare back. “Your neighbors!”

“Fuck the neighbors.” He turned his head to the side and bit into my ass.

“Oww,” I growled, digging my nails into his back.

As he walked up to the front door, my eyes landed on the perfect curved tops of his cheeks, sticking out above his jeans.Hello, to you too.Stretching my arms, I slipped my hands between the denim and his body, sliding my palms over his taut ass.

He squeezed my thigh in response. “Ms. Blake, what will the neighbors think?”

“Fuck the neighbors,” I repeated back to him. I let my fingers have their fill, massaging and squeezing his ass, then paused as the sound of the key in the door caught my attention. In a moment, we were inside. He set me down, still holding me close to him, then flipped on the light switch.

As my eyes adjusted, I scanned the foyer, frowning.

The walls had pink, ivory and gold floral wallpaper from the seventies. But this was definitely not retro-inspired. Justretro. Old. The chandelier above my head was amber glass and bathed the entire foyer in a weird yellowish glow. Peeking into the living room gave me an eyeful of crushed velvet couches in shades of avocado and pale pink. The furniture was a rich mahogany.

I looked up at Reed, trying not to look like I’d just sucked on a lemon, but even that would be better than this. “Are we breaking and entering?”

He laughed, a real, genuine laugh, and I watched in awe as his smile took over his striking face. These moments were brief, few and far between, and I craved them like a drug addict craved the next hit.

“We could have picked a better house…”

“Jesus, Rylan, do you ever think before you speak?” He shook his head, then slipped his hand into mine. “This was my grandmother’s place.” He began leading me up the curved staircase, then paused, looking back at my feet. “I think I prefer you barefoot.” He lowered himself to sit on the stairs, then began unclasping the straps of the black, strappy stilettos I borrowed from Greer.

“IknowI prefer you barefoot.”

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