Page 63 of The Wicked

“You’re always so wet for me, Cinderella,” he whispered, then gave my earlobe a gentle nip.

“This is a diner.”

“I’d noticed.”

“We’re in public.”

“Are you using your safe word?”

Was I? A ripple of pleasure ran through me, and rationality flew out the window. I wanted this. Needed this. Needed him.

“No,” I whispered, letting my legs part a little more. “Hurry up.”

Charming had unlocked a side of me I never knew existed, and now lust was running so close to my surface that it didn’t take much to make it spill over. I fell apart. In a freaking diner. He muffled my moan with a kiss, then withdrew his hand a moment before a group of people walked past us to sit at the next table.

Sheesh.

“Just think how many times I could make you come in a week,” he murmured.

“Fine.Fine, I’ll stay.” At least if I was hiding in someone else’s apartment, I’d be safe from the ghosts of my past. “But can we try to take things slowly? I’m not feeling myself at the moment.”

“Sure, you can feel me instead.”

“Be serious, Charming. I mean it. The sex is good, better than good, but I need to know who you are.”

His expression grew sober. “We can take things slow, I promise. We’ll talk. I haven’t had a relationship like this one before, and you haven’t had one at all, so we’ll have a lot to figure out as we go along. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“I want this to work.”

So did I, perhaps more than I’d ever wanted anything in my life.

* * *

“Kayleigh drank so much at one event that I had to hide her in a closet until the host went to bed, and then I nearly gave myself a hernia lifting her into my car.”

“Trey pissed in a Greek shipping tycoon’s pool once.”

“Isn’t that quite a common thing to do?”

“Not from the diving board.”

I dissolved into laughter and nearly spilled my champagne. We’d christened Johannes’s grand piano, which was an interesting and not particularly comfortable experience, Garrett had made calls for work while I took a much-needed nap, and now we were curled up on the couch—theleathercouch—playing a game of “my family’s more messed up than yours” over pizza and champagne. I never usually spoke about the Baldwins, but in this little bubble of a borrowed apartment, I felt safe. Safe to speak my mind.

Charming seemed content to keep what was happening between us quiet, and for that, I was grateful. Firstly, I wasn’t convinced this relationship would last, and the last thing I needed was for my impending heartbreak to be broadcast all over town. And secondly, if by some miracle we did survive as a couple, the gossip mill would run on overdrive, not just in Baldwin’s Shore but beyond. I could see the headlines now.Member of disgraced Baldwin family has fling with billionaire’s playboy son.The twins would go into meltdown and surely try to find a way to turn the situation to their advantage. Dollar signs would flash in their eyes like a malfunctioning slot machine.

“You want to see?” he asked. “As always, there’s a video.”

“No, I absolutely do not want to see. Uh, how high was the diving board?”

“Three metres. The tycoon’s daughter was a competitive diver, and she used the pool for practice.”

I snorted. “Easton the Third puked in a bowl of potpourri once, but Marianna liked to keep the house at a tropical temperature, so the mess dried out overnight, and if you just gave a quick glance, it was hard to tell. The living room smelled funky for a week before anyone worked out where the stink was coming from.”

“Trey puked in the glove compartment of my car.”

“Yeuch.”

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