Roman-1(Lane Brothers, Book 5)(88)

My first appointment with the obstetrician is in four days, and I can’t wait!

We get our drinks and start wandering around, waiting for dinner to be called before the silent auction part of the night starts. A half hour later I’m wending my way through the crush, searching in vain for my errant date.

“He’s busy talking to Ederson’s son about a deal their companies are considering.”

I gasp and whip around, feeling my heartbeat accelerate when my eyes focus on the man I’ve been ducking all night.

“Oh, uh, he said he wouldn’t—”

“I made sure he’s occupied for the next thirty minutes at least. Now what say you stop avoiding me and come talk to me?” he grates, taking my wrist in his hard grip and tugging me out of the room and up the wide, curving staircase.

I don’t resist because I know it’s futile, and before I know it we’re in a large guestroom and he’s locking the door, his mouth turning up in a smug smile.

“Start talking.”

He says it as if he knows I’m keeping a dark secret, and I swallow nervously, wringing my fingers into knots as he crosses his arms and leans back against the door, blocking the exit.

“Vincent—”

“No. I did what you asked and gave you time. I cooled it with the phone calls and the texts, and I even managed to stop myself from fucking bringing you back home where you belong. I’ve been patient, dove,” he growls.

That harsh expression sends butterflies to the pit of my stomach, and I tremble, feeling a slow slide of unstoppable desire pool in my sex. I should have known I’d want this—

“Dove,” he barks, cutting off the image of our entwined bodies straining against each other.

Fine. If he wants the truth I’ll give it to him, but first I want some answers of my own.

“Before I say another word I want to know what happened that week you went away. Why you froze me out, and what exactly happened with that model.”

I’ve vacillated between being certain that Parker is right and that Vincent hadn’t tapped that stick insect and worrying myself to death with the notion that no hot blooded male would have turned that hottie down. Now I’m just going a little crazy wondering what the hell is going on.

He makes a gurgling sound in the ensuing silence, and I narrow my eyes, struggling to see him through the low light from the one lamp sitting beside the bed.

“I never slept with her. She was useful at the time and accomplished what I wanted, but I never touched her, dove, not like you think,” he confesses, watching me closely. “As for why… I went the tiniest bit bonkers when I saw you with Preston Blake, and…”

I keep my mouth shut against the instant need to comfort him as he peters off, struggling with words. It’s sadistic, the amount of genuine pleasure I’m deriving from seeing Vincent Blake speechless and at a loss for words.

Call me nasty, but I’m very pleased to be the first person to rattle his cage this way. It’s only fair, since I can hardly find my footing since I met the man.

“They’re not good people, and I don’t want you around any of them. Especially that little prick.”

Oh, so he’s recovered, and now he thinks he can throw his weight around.

“Vincent—”

“Enough.”

He’s on me then, and I moan into his mouth as he pulls me close and ravishes me, thrusting his tongue so deep I have no choice but to parry back, needing his taste as much as I need my next breath.

“You’re mine, dove,” he snarls against my lips, one hand thrusting cruelly into my hair to angle me for another brutal, soul shattering kiss.

When he pulls away, our breaths sawing, I notice the soft caress of air on my skin and look down to see my dress pooled at my feet. I’m left in nothing but a pair of tiny panties.

“Fuck. I’m sorry.”

I don’t understand the apology until he wraps his large hands around my waist, lifts me, and tosses me back forcefully. I gasp, getting the breath knocked out of me when I land on the bed with a thump.

Vincent growls and dives at me, his hands and mouth a force of nature as he rips my panties away and buries his head between my legs.

“God, dove, I’ve missed you,” he mumbles, eating at me with a desperation I’ve never seen from him.

Vincent is usually all suave and slow, using his immense willpower against me in a show of fatal seduction and torturously slow pleasure. Now, though, I can’t even catch my breath as he uses his tongue and teeth to eat me to an orgasm that knocks me breathless.

“Oh, oh, God,” I wail, thrusting a hand into his hair to keep him centered right where I need him.