“So did your looks come from her, then?” I grinned.
“She would like you.” He laughed. “If she were still alive. She died of Huntington's disease when I was ten. The last memory I have of her was when she dropped me off at the Darcy Mansion. It was about a four-hour drive from our home. My father lived only four hours away. She stayed that night and then gave me a hug before she left for an experimental treatment. My father never wanted me, but he does send me an expensive gift every year on my birthday. When I was twelve, he gave me a motorcycle. Eventually my aunt and uncle became my parents. I love them, but whenever I’m around them for too long, I remember I’m the black sheep. I’ve been bored out of my mind for the last twenty-one years, but you’ve made things interesting.”
I couldn’t see how, and I didn’t ask. He finished of the rest of his glass as he waited for me to say something. But I drank casually as I leaned back. I was in no mood to meet his family. Just thinking about having to force a smile, be polite while eating caviar, and listen to a rich woman talk about her book sounded like a nightmare. Then I realized that was his life. He had been born and raised with nothing, then forced to adapt to that type of world. On the outside he looked the part, but on the inside, he was like me.
Damn it. I could feel myself already giving in.
“You’re going to have to buy me a dress.”
“Absolutely. Just as long as I get to peel it off you.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Not a Princess
Theo
“At this rate, we’re going to be late,” she said when she came out of my bedroom wearing a red cocktail dress. It looked more like a sexy slip than a dress. It wouldn’t work. I would spend the whole night with a hard-on, thinking of different ways to get her out of it.
“We will arrive fashionably late, and I’m sure the dinner will just be getting started.” I reached for another outfit from the rack they had brought up for us. “Try this one.”
She snatched it from my hand. “I swear to God if you don’t like this one, I’m going naked.”
“Stop looking so fucking beautiful in everything, and we wouldn’t have this problem¸” I said. She glared at me, and I glared back, trying my best not to touch her. If I did now, we would never leave.
“This is the last outfit I’m parading myself in for you.” She lifted the dress between us.
“Nothing in life is final. But we’ll see.”
The corner of her lip turned up, but she looked away and shook her head as she headed back upstairs to the bedroom. We’d picked up right where we left off, and I’d lost count of the number of times we had fucked each other in the last few hours. She was frustrated I kept making her change, and I was frustrated that everything she wore turned me on. You would think I had never been with a woman before. But there was something about her that kept drawing me back. The way she felt against me. How she moaned out my name. Not knowing what she would do or say next. She seduced me just by breathing.
“I like this one, and it’s staying on!”
Nothing is staying on for long. “Fine.”
When the door opened, I had never regretted a word more than I did then. She wore a white bustier top and a navy skirt that was short in the front, exposing her long, smooth legs, and long in the back. She had pinned her hair up, exposing her neck. She… I… fuck, why had I chosen that?
“Felicity—”
“Not changing,” she said as she took a pair of heels from the rack, along with earrings and a single ring. The moment she stepped into the heels, I bit back a groan as my eyes freely traveled over every curve of her. This was insane.
I knew it, yet the only thought going through my head was mine. She is mine. It wasn’t in a sweet way. It was in the I need her under me now kind of way, preferably with those heels still on.
Stepping behind her, I pulled the pins out of her hair, letting it fall down in waves. Brushing it to the side, I kissed her neck and pulled her close, touching her breasts through the material.
“Theo, we can’t,” she said, even though she tilted her neck to the side for me.
“I know.” I kissed her jaw before letting go. “I was just giving you some incentive to keep your hair down.”
It took her a moment to realize what I meant, and then she reached up and clapped her hand over her neck. “You son of a bitch.”
“You could make it even.” I tilted my neck, and she glared. “I thought so—”
Gripping my tie, she pulled me close to her. Losing it and undoing the top buttons of my shirt, exposing my neck, she kissed me hard.