Page 13 of The Villain Edit

“She’s nothing like Savannah.” Savannah was a shy kindergarten teacher who had never been in the same room as a celebrity and had the misfortune of being the sister of my publicist’s best friend and single at a time when I needed to not be. David developed a structured way to overcome her shyness and put her at ease, but Ashley isn’t uneasy around me. She isn’t shy or intimidated.

“Maybe digging a little deeper will help you relate to each other so we can avoid whatever the hell that performance a few minutes ago was.” David throws his hands up into the air. “Or not. I wouldn’t want to dig into that muck either. She’s awful. But you need to make this look real.”

There are flashes. Little moments when I think I can glimpse the real Ashley behind the walls she’s put up. There and gone so fast I might be imagining them.

“Try the questions,” David says. “Open up and see if—”

“No.” I snap, my chest going tight. I’m not offering myself up to a woman who will use any information I give her as a weapon against me. “I don’t need to know what her favorite color is or what song she puts on repeat after a breakup. I just need to be seen with her.”

David jumps back, his eyebrows up to his hairline.

Shame hits me hot and hard. I’ve never interrupted him before, and never in that tone.

I can’t let her get to me like this.

“I’m sorry,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck. Ashley’s still staring at me. Her gaze burns. “If I need the questions, I’ll call you.”

David clasps me on the arm like I’m going into battle. I’m pretty sure I am.

“If you need anything, give me a call. I’ll handle it,” he promises.

I nod. Shore up my determination, straighten my shoulders, and open the driver’s side door.

Ashley’s hand is wrapped around the gear stick, stroking it slowly, a slight twist on the knob…

Blood is already heading south and I sit, trapping my cock in place. My pants are tight enough to guarantee any erection will be too uncomfortable to maintain, but I’m not taking chances. I wrap my hand around Ashley’s and for a few terrifying heartbeats, my hand rides hers as she pumps the shaft.

“Don’t,” I say when I finally manage to pry her hand off.

“I could play with your other stick,” she offers sweetly.

My cock is on board, going fully hard in anticipation. I shift to face her, threatening myself with castration. “You need to tone it down when we’re in front of the cameras,” I growl at her. “And when we’re alone, you need to turn it off. Got it?”

“Fine,” she says with a bored sigh. “I don’t need to add your dick to the list of things that have disappointed me in the last twenty-four hours.”

She wouldn’t be disappointed, but I bite my tongue and start up the car. Usually, the rumble of the engine gives me a sense of calm. Not today.

A camera presses against my window and Ashley leans over me to flip it off.

I grab her hand, bringing it to my lips. I want to bite her finger—not hard, just enough to make her gasp—but I kiss the back of her hand instead because that’s what Gabriel Sinclair would do. Since the camera is still bumping my tinted window, I place her hand on my thigh.

She slides her hand right up, and I don’t think she means to touch my hard cock—she’s not even looking at me—but she does. Her hand goes still. I hold my breath. She squeezes, ever so slightly, like she’s looking for confirmation.

She fucking gets it.

“Oh,” she exhales, her hand sliding right off. She clasps her hands together and stares out the window.

Slowly, so I don’t hit the asshole who got that on video, I accelerate.

“Disappointed?” I snarl.

“That dick is wasted on you,” she says without hesitation.

My laughter is sharp. “What makes you think it’s wasted?”

She shifts in her seat, bending her head down to my lap and I nearly rear-end the car in front of me. What the—

“Baby,” she coos to my groin, “Does he ever take you out to play? Do you get sick of his hand?”

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