The music continues to bombard my eardrums, but I can hardly hear it over the pounding of my own pulse and Nero’s heavy breathing against my ear.
I can’t believe…
My eyes squeeze shut even tighter, as if to block out the reality of what I just did. And how much I enjoyed it.
Nero’s hand slides up and away from my overly sensitive clit, and I can feel the dampness on my skin as he slides his hand all the way out of my skirt.
My body continues to quiver from the mind-shattering orgasm Nero just gave me, and if it weren’t for his arm around me, I’d crumple to the ground right here.
The feeling of Nero’s cock sliding out of… oh god, out of my ass, is so foreign. So dirty. I take a deep breath, the sensation of him dripping out of me heats my cheeks even more.
I almost hate how sexy it makes me feel. But something that makes me feel this good, this desired, can’t possibly be all bad.
Maybe what Nero said, about one fuck turning me into a slut, is true.
It’s another thing I’m sure I should be upset about, him calling me that. But he said it so approvingly. Like the way that my body readied itself for him made him proud.
Nero’s forehead drops back down to my shoulder, and his hands slip away. I can feel the jostling behind me, and I assume he’s… putting himself back in order.
Half afraid of what I’ll see, I force my eyes to crack open.
I have to squint against the flashing lights, but when my eyes adjust, I note that no one seems to be looking at us. Thank god.
Nero groans, then stands to his full height, taking his suit coat with him. Once he has it back on, he wraps both arms around my shoulders, hugging me to his chest, and rests his chin on the top of my head.
I sink back into his hold.
“I’m driving you home.” His words are echoed in a rumble against my back.
“Okay,” I murmur back. “In a minute.”
“In a minute,” he repeats, showing he heard me, and presses a kiss to the top of my head.
I shouldn’t let him drive me home. Or touch me. But clearly, I don’t do the things that I should.
And if I have him alone in my apartment, maybe I can get him to expand on what he said earlier. About enemies, and not being a good man.
So we stand together, watching a band I’ve never heard of before, blending into the crowd.
After a while, I tilt my head back. “Nero?”
His chin slides against my hair, and he looks down into my eyes. “Yeah, Baby?”
“Can I have my underwear back?”
The second his lips start to pull up into a smile, I know what answer he’s gonna give me. “No.”
Even though it’s the response I expected, I narrow my eyes. “No?”
“No, Payton, you can’t have your underwear back.”
He says underwear like it’s the wrong term. But calling them my panties out loud, to his face, is not something I’m ready for.
“You said you’d give me that other pair back,” I argue.
He clicks his tongue. “Clearly you’re not listening.”
“You said––”
He cuts me off. “I told you I wasn’t a good man, Payton. That includes lying. Because you’re not ever getting them back. And I’m keeping the ones you just gave me, too.”
I narrow my eyes. “How do I know you’re not lying about that too?”
He shrugs.
My lips purse. “Are you saying I shouldn’t trust you?”
His arms tighten around me. “You shouldn’t trust me. But I’m asking you to anyway.” Nero presses his nose to my hair and inhales. “I’ll lie, and cheat, and steal, and kill, and do whatever I need to do to protect you. But I’ll never lie to you about who I am. Okay?”
“Okay,” I sigh, ignoring all the red flags in that statement. “But can I at least wear them home?”
He huffs out a laugh. “No. Now are you ready to go?”
I nod, straightening from his hold. And when I tentatively flex my leg and butt muscles, I feel the ache there.
One step… One step is all it takes before I feel more of him drip down my thighs.
“Nero,” I whine, and the look on his face tells me he knows exactly what my issue is.
But he doesn’t stop, he just twines his fingers with mine and pulls me along behind him.
My only saving grace is the darkness, both inside and outside the club, that should hide the state I’m in.
As we circle around the back of the crowd, the current song ends and instead of jumping right into the next one, the lead singer addresses the crowd.
“I love you, Minneapolis!” A cheer roars through the crowd at the mention of our city. “This next one we’re going to do a little differently. We’re gonna sing it in Swedish.”
Another loud cheer goes up, distracting me, so I don’t notice Nero’s steps have slowed until I’m bumping into his back.
Before I can apologize, he squeezes my hand and continues walking at his previous pace.
We make it through the lobby, and out the front doors, before Nero stops again.
This time, I manage to put my free hand up, pressing my palm to his back to keep from crashing into him.
“You okay?” I question.
He grunts, then looks both ways before tugging me toward a pair of security guards standing off to the side, clearly waiting for the concert to end.
“Hey, Mr. Suit. Enjoy the show?” the woman asks him, with a knowing smirk on her face.
She’s young, pretty, has an edgy haircut, and I don’t like the way she’s looking at him.
I step up so Nero and I are side-by-side, then I let go of his hand and run my hand up the inside of his forearm until I’ve hooked my arm through his.
The movement doesn’t go unnoticed, and I watch the woman’s smirk grow even wider.
Okay, so she’s amused by me, not intimidated. And I’m not sure how to feel about that.
But then Nero presses his arm to his side, trapping mine where it is. And I know exactly how to feel about that.
“It was quite the experience.”
I have to take a moment to remember the woman’s question after Nero responds, and when I do, I feel my cheeks heat. I fervently hope she keeps her gaze on Nero’s handsome face and away from anything that might be going on below the hem of my skirt.
“Glad to hear it.” Her eyes flick back to me. “Was there something you needed?”
“Just wondering if Hans was here tonight?” Nero asks.
I know I don’t know him that well, but something about his tone feels off.
The woman straightens from her spot leaning against a pillar, as she glances at her colleague. “I thought you said you weren’t here for the owner’s meeting?”
“I’m not.” His faux friendliness evaporates with those two words.
The worker glances back to me, but I’m just as confused as she is.
“Have a good night.” Nero dips his chin, then drags me away.
“What was that about?” I ask when we’ve put some distance between us and the security guards.
“Nothing.”
“Who’s Hans?”
He’s quiet for a few strides, then heaves out a breath. “No one you want to know.”
I press my lips together but decide to take him at his word.
The walk to Nero’s car goes by in a swirl of dancing thoughts while I pretend the cold air isn’t licking at my bare butt.
Nero turns into a small surface lot and walks me up to the passenger side door of a low, probably expensive, sports car.
He lets go of my hand to pull the door open, then stands off to the side so I can get in. But I don’t.
“If you didn’t want me to drive you home, you shouldn’t have walked all the way over here.”
I roll my eyes. “As if you’d let me do anything else.”
Nero grins. “Smart girl. Now get in.”
“Nero…” I press my thighs together, then whisper. “I’m going to get your seats dirty.”
His eyes slowly drop and I feel like he can see straight through my skirt. “Are you messy, Payton?” He steps forward, closing the distance between us. “Is my cum still dripping out of your ass?”
I tip my head down, letting my hair fall around my face, as I admit, “Yes.”
Nero groans, gripping me on my hips. “If you think that bothers me, you need to think again.”
I shift my weight. “Nero.”
He lets out the biggest sigh. “Fine.” He pulls his suit coat off, then leans into the car and spreads it out on the seat.
“I can’t sit on that!”
His eyes are narrowed when he stands back upright. “Why not?”
I gesture to the jacket. “It’s… expensive,” I say lamely.
“Payton, get your ass in the fucking car.”
“But––”
“Get in.” He points to the car. “Squeeze out every drop of spunk onto the seat. Hell, run your fingers through it and draw hearts on my dashboard. I don’t give a shit.”
My face scrunches up at the visual. “That’s––”
He grips my chin. “I know we have a lot to talk about, but I’ll tell you one thing about me right now. One thing that you need to just believe, okay?”
“Okay…”
“I’m rich.”
I almost snort. His delivery is just so… blasé.
But then he keeps going, not letting me look away. “I’m very, very rich. I have millions in the bank. Millions more in less official locations. And five times that in property.” I swallow. “You could set this car on fire, roll it into the Mississippi, and it wouldn’t cause so much as a ripple in my finances. You could tear my custom suit to shreds and twist them into pretty silk tampons, and I wouldn’t give two shits. You could––”
“Okay!” I half-shout the word, just to get him to stop talking.
But he doesn’t let go. “You will never worry about money.” I open my mouth, but he shuts it with his grip. “Not for me. And not for you.”
I keep my lips pressed together as I stare up at him.
What an actual dream it would be to not worry about money. What I wouldn’t give.
But as much as he’s acting obsessed with me now––for whatever reason––when that fades, I’ll be back to my regularly scheduled poorness.
“Get in the car, Payton.” Nero punctuates his command by pressing his lips to mine in a brief but harsh kiss. And more than anything he said, the kiss shuts me up.
