Page 66 of One Secret

'The Lexington Suite.' I spot a sign directing us down the eastern hallway.

Darcy snorts softly to herself.

'What?'

I'm momentarily distracted when she starts playing with the belt loop of my pants. The touch seems absent-minded. I'm not even sure Darcy realizes she's doing it.

'The Lexington?' she repeats. 'As in, Al Capone's place?'

'Yeah.' I can feel my lip curling in levity. 'Felix isn't big on subtlety.'

'Feels like he's waving at officials,' she wonders bemused. 'Just offering up a confession and then throwing them the bird because he knows there's no evidence to make it stick.'

'That's exactly what he's doing. Men like Felix like to parade around what they can achieve. Especially when it's illegal.'

We're just a few feet from the Lexington Suite—I can see the same curlicue plaque as our room on a door directly ahead—when Darcy pulls us to a stop. Her hand finds my chest and she stares up at me with interest.

'Not you, though...?' she says.

'Not me, what?' I blink.

'You don't parade.'

I have the sudden urge to crack my neck. Darcy's stare is clear and unyielding. Like it could shoot straight through me. And it's making me tense.

I settle for a brittle half-shrug.

'What's the point?' I ask.

'You don't feel the need for validation from others?'

I feel my facial features shutting down. Turning cold.

Just say "no" and move on. You don't have to answer that. Just stay quiet you asshole.

'I learned a long time ago not to demand anything from others.'

Kudos. Nailed it.

Fuck it, we're here now...

'Validation, support, affection... if it comes from other people it's a lie at worst and temporary at best. It doesn't sustain you. So, what's the point?'

'Loving thyself is better, huh?' Darcy suggests with a soft smile of approval.

My little confession feels dirty on my tongue, so I grab the easiest "out" of the conversation. I turn my grin wicked.

'It always used to be,' I growl softly, before leaning down and pressing an open kiss to the hollow behind Darcy's ear. She purrs at the attention, the sound reverberating through my skin and shooting straight for my pants. 'But you can reach places I find hard by myself.'

She slaps my arm.

'You know that's not what I—'

I cut her off with a swift kiss to the lips but, as a silencing technique, it backfires. Her hazy moan slips into my mouth and passes over my tongue. I swallow it down, hand coming to the back of her neck, mouth seeking more.

Darcy kisses me back, her hand running over my hair and setting off sparks of sensation down my spine. The leather of her pants is cool and buttery soft as I make a grab for her hip, intent on backing her against the wall, to get inside her mouth, her clothes, between her legs—

A pointed clearing of the throat has us both freezing and then darting apart, like necking teenagers.

---