King of Sloth (Kings of Sin, 4)

“Why are you smiling so much?” Jillian asked.

“It’s freaking me out.”

“I’m not smiling. I’m exercising my mouth.” I took the proffered coffee with one hand and finished sending my email with the other. I glanced up when I didn’t get a reply. “That was a joke.”

It wasn’t a great one, but hey, I was out of practice. I deserved some slack.

“I know,” she said with a shudder. “That freaks me out even more.”

“Hilarious,” I said dryly. “When you’re done with your stand-up routine, connect me with Asher. If he’s late to a meeting again, I’m adding a waiting fee to his monthly bill.”

“Sure.” She gave a dreamy sigh. “Asher days are my favorite.”

I shook my head and waited for the door to close before I logged on to my private video-conferencing system.

Jillian wasn’t wrong. I was smiling a lot, to the point where I annoyed myself, but I was still riding high from the past week.

Last Wednesday had been a rollercoaster of emotions. Pen’s hospitalization and seeing my family were unpleasant shocks, but my night with Xavier, both at the club and his house, smoothed the jagged edges of an otherwise epically shitty day.

I hadn’t planned on sleeping with him. Part of me actively resisted it because I knew it was a bad idea. But there was something about the way he held and looked at me…He posed the greatest danger to my perfectly constructed world, yet I’d never felt safer than when I was in his arms.

Take your hair down, Sloane.

It was a simple request, but when I did it, it’d felt like more. It’d felt like trust.

I stared at my screen. Asher wasn’t on yet, which was just as well. Once they got rolling, my memories couldn’t stop replaying the past few days—the way Xavier felt inside me, the way we moved together, the way he’d planned the outing with Pen and how great he was with her. I didn’t have much of a maternal instinct, but my ovaries had almost exploded when they hugged goodbye.

There was nothing sexier than a man who was good with children.

He’d chosen an activity she would like that wouldn’t aggravate her symptoms, but he also treated her like a normal kid, not a porcelain doll. That was what Pen wanted, and it was probably the reason she’d gotten attached to him so fast. My only worry was—

“Sorry, boss.” Asher’s perfect face filled my screen, his smile as roguish and charming as his British accent. Despite his words, he appeared unrepentant about his latest mishap. “Before you say anything, know it won’t happen again.”

I almost jumped before I caught myself. I’d gotten so wrapped up in my thoughts, I’d nearly forgotten about the call.

I straightened, brushing aside concerns about my personal life to focus on my most high-profile client.

Asher was in his house in Blackcastle. He wore an old gray T-shirt, and his hair was damp from either sweat or a shower. He must’ve come straight from his daily workout.

I wished he were as dedicated to maintaining his reputation as he was to his fitness. You’d think the most famous soccer player in the world would be too busy with, and protective of, his career to engage in illegal street races, but this wasn’t the first time I’d had to clean up his mess before the press got wind of it.

“I’m not your boss. If I were, you wouldn’t ignore me every time I tell you to do something,” I said evenly. “Let me make something clear, Donovan. I don’t care how great your scoring record was at Holchester. You’re the new kid in the club at Blackcastle. You have a nine-figure contract riding on your ability to control your impulses so keep your head down, obey the speed limit, and for God’s sake, stop fighting with Vincent DuBois. He’s your teammate.”

Asher’s $200-million transfer earlier this year had made headlines worldwide, but it came with a unique stipulation: a two-year probationary period, during which he must uphold the contract’s ironclad morality clause, among other things. If he didn’t, his contract would be terminated, and he’d have to pay back half of his first two years’ earnings.

Asher’s face clouded at the mention of his rival. Vincent was the only player who came close to matching his fame and talent.

“Vincent’s an asshole,” he said.

“I don’t care. Your rivalry is whipping the tabloids into a frenzy, and we don’t need that right now. Shape the hell up, Asher, or I will personally hire a mercenary to repossess every car in your garage and make sure Rahim never sells you another vehicle. That upcoming limited-edition Bugatti you have your eye on? Gone to the next highest bidder.”

Asher was famous, but I was determined, fed up, and pissed off. Plus Rahim, his luxury car broker, owed me for the sheer number of referrals I’d sent his way (for people who were more responsible drivers than a certain athlete).

Asher swallowed at my threat. “Come on, Sloane. That’s not—”

“Take care of it. Now.”

I ended the call. Some clients required tougher love than others; Asher required freaking titanium.

I had a few minutes before my next meeting, so I quickly checked my phone.

XAVIER

Black coffee, two sugars?

A smile touched my lips, easing my frustration over Asher.

I’m working

XAVIER

That wasn’t the question, Luna

…

No sugar today. I’ve had too much already

I blamed the doughnuts Jillian had brought for breakfast.

I didn’t get an immediate answer from him, so I turned to my group chat with the girls.

ISABELLA

Operation PW is in full swing 😉

ISABELLA

I MAY have gone to PW’s favorite cafe to write today, and I MAY have overheard him discussing an upcoming blog post

My heart skipped a beat.

Is it…

ISABELLA

Mmhmm. He didn’t name names, but I’m almost positive it’s what we planted

VIVIAN

Do you think he’ll actually run it?

VIVIAN

She’s one of the few celebs he’s been too afraid to go after

ALESSANDRA

I’m not sure “celeb” is the right term

VIVIAN

You know what I mean

ISABELLA

He might need an extra push Sloane: I’ll take care of it

My office phone rang, interrupting me from the chat. “Sloane, your next appointment is here,” Jillian said.

“Bring her in, please.”

Two minutes later, Ayana entered my office, a striking vision draped in marigold silk and shoulder-grazing earrings.

“Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice.” She folded herself gracefully into the chair opposite mine. Her skin glowed beneath the lights, and she had cheekbones that could slice through diamonds. No wonder she’d taken the modeling world by storm over the past year.

“You’re my client. I’m happy to help in any way I can,” I said. Ayana was my last new client for a while. My roster was technically closed, but Alessandra’s mother was Ayana’s modeling mentor. I’d met with her earlier this year as a favor, and I liked her so much I’d signed her that day.

“Good.” She hesitated, her lovely face shadowed with nerves. “Because I might be in trouble.”

For the next forty-five minutes, I listened as Ayana laid out her situation. I kept my expression neutral, but every cell in my body blanched when she reached the marriage part.

“I don’t know what to do,” she concluded. She stared at her lap, her anxiety palpable. “I owe him so much, but…”

“But nothing. It’s your life,” I said firmly. “Listen, as your publicist, I’ll tell you this would be great publicity. There’s nothing the public loves more than a celebrity wedding. But as a woman, as a human, I’ll tell you to follow your gut. Is gratitude worth five years of your life?”

When Ayana left, the question lingered.

I couldn’t answer it for her, and my job was to spin her decision into media gold, no matter what it was. I just hoped she made a choice she wouldn’t regret later.

I opened my inbox, but I didn’t get a chance to read anything before Xavier appeared at the door.

“Was that Ayana I saw coming out?” He strolled in, his hair tousled by the wind and his sweater molding to his form in a way that was positively sinful. “I didn’t realize she was still in town.”

A sizzle of awareness ran beneath my skin, chased by something darker that I ignored. It must be my lunch. Tuna salad was hit-or-miss on a good day. “Do you know her?”

“Not personally, but she’s a friend of a friend, and I’ve seen her around a few times,” Xavier said with a shrug. “Luca mentioned she was supposed to be shooting a Delamonte campaign in Europe this week, but I guess not.”

“Ah.”

His eyebrows arched. “What happened? Did the meeting not go well?”

“It went fine.” I stared at my screen, willing myself to get over whatever was roiling in my stomach. “She’s great. Obviously. Since she’s the first thing you mentioned when you walked in.”

Silence greeted my curt response.

When I looked up again, Xavier wasn’t staring at me in shock like I’d expected. The bastard was laughing.

Great, rolling waves of silent laughter shook his body and sent a rush of heat to my cheeks.

“Luna.” Mirth gleamed in his eyes. “Are you jealous?”

“No,” I snapped. “It was merely an observation.”

I returned to my screen and glared at the lines of text until they blurred. Prickles bloomed behind my nose and eyes.

It was stupid and irrational because I didn’t really think Xavier was interested in Ayana, but I couldn’t fix the valve leaking inside me. The one that held back a flood of insecurity, which I thought I’d turned off until little moments like this dripped self-doubt into my stomach.

Too cold. Too dispassionate. Too unlovable.

Xavier was the opposite of me—full of warmth, easy to like, and a charmer at his core. He’d been honest and committed since we’d started dating, but a part of me was waiting for him to run.

One day, he’d wake up and realize I wasn’t the person he wanted me to be, and he’d leave.

“Sloane.” He didn’t sound amused anymore. Soft footsteps preceded the clean scent of his cologne; firm hands turned me around. “Look at me.”

I fixated stubbornly on his neck. One of his tattoos peeked from beneath his sweater, and it was the only thing that kept me from falling apart.

What the hell happened? One second, I was working and smiling so much I scared Jillian. The next, I was on the verge of a breakdown over a man.

Past me was disgusted with myself, but past me didn’t know what current me knew: this trial period I’d proposed had backfired spectacularly.

I’d thought we could have fun for two months and say we tried. I’d thought I could walk away at the end of this and be okay.

But I couldn’t. Not when jealousy gnawed through my insides at the mere thought of Xavier with someone else.

“Look at me.” Fingers grasped my chin and notched it up. Xavier’s eyes bored into mine, stripping me bare. “You have nothing to be jealous of. I mentioned Ayana because I was just talking to Luca and that was at the top of my mind. It doesn’t have anything to do with how I feel toward her because I don’t feel anything.”

“She’s a supermodel. Everyone feels something toward her.”

“I don’t,” he said. “I don’t care how beautiful or famous someone is, Luna. None of them hold a candle to you.”

If he were anyone else, I would’ve dismissed his reassurance as empty words. But this was Xavier, and because it was Xavier, his reply had the effect of a thousand fluttering wings. Their velvety tips brushed my heart, sealing the leak and soaking up the insecurities.

I managed a smile over the steel drum of my heart. “You always know what to say.”

“It’s easy when it’s the truth. Now…” He leaned down and gave me a soft, lingering kiss. He tasted like coffee and warmth. “That’s a proper hello.”

I laughed, my skin tingling from either our kiss, the end of our previous conversation, or both. I was a bit embarrassed by my uncharacteristic outburst of jealousy, but I was too pleased to see him to care.

“Do we have a meeting today?” I asked, trying to shift back into work mode. “I thought we were going to talk on the phone.”

Xavier had said he had a plan for getting Vuk to sign on as his business partner without a location first, and he wanted to run it by me.

“We don’t, and we were. But I’m not here for business. I’m here to see you.” Xavier nodded at the coffee cup he’d set on my desk. “Black, no sugar.”

I took a sip and narrowed my eyes at him over the rim. “I have a lot of work to catch up on.”

I’d been so distracted since we started dating that I wasn’t ahead by two weeks like I usually was. I was on schedule, which was unacceptable.

“It’s lunchtime, and Jillian said you don’t have any meetings until two.”

“Jillian needs to stop telling you my schedule, and I’m not hungry.”

“No.” Xavier’s voice turned to silk. “But I am.”

I didn’t get a chance to react before he picked me up and set me on the desk in one smooth, swift motion. He shoved my skirt up around my hips and slipped his thumb beneath the edge of my underwear to find me already slick and wanting.

“Xavier,” I hissed, glancing behind me at the unlocked door. “Someone will hear.”

Despite my protest, my clit throbbed with need. Heat gathered like a firestorm in my lungs as those strong, deft hands caressed me, molding to my hips and thighs, stoking the fires higher and hotter until they incinerated my reservations.

“Good.” Xavier sank to his knees and pushed my knees wider, granting him an unfettered view of my soaked arousal. His eyes gleamed up at me, dark and bright as volcanic glass. “Then they’ll know exactly who you belong to.”

A humiliating little whimper left my mouth when he bent his head and closed his teeth around delicate silk. A woozy, breathless second of anticipation sent my pulse skyrocketing, followed by something between a cry and a gasp when he ripped my underwear off and dived in.

Bursts of light exploded behind my eyes at the sudden switch from lazy sensuality to feral, untamed hunger. My brain couldn’t catch up, so it ceded all power to my body. The buck of my hips; the grasp on his hair; the arousal that raced through me, so fast and potent it was almost painful.

I tried to close my legs, scoot backward, do anything that would let me catch my breath before I exploded from pure pleasure, but Xavier’s iron grip forced me to stay in place. He was merciless in his assault, his mouth and tongue and teeth pinpointing every sensitive spot with devastating accuracy.

I wasn’t sure if I was screaming or sobbing or utterly silent. I wasn’t sure if my staff was standing at the door right now, watching him tongue fuck my brains out while I lost all semblance of control.

I wasn’t sure of anything at all, really, except for the fact I never, ever wanted this to end. Not with him, and not with us.

The firestorm inside me finally erupted, and this time, I heard my cry before a hand clamped over my mouth, muffling my scream. My orgasm was so intense that I disintegrated immediately, bits and pieces of me falling, floating, burning until the smoke cleared, and a hazy shadow of my senses returned.

The hand over my mouth dropped, replaced by a punishing kiss. I tasted my arousal, and my nipples tightened again like I hadn’t just come so hard, I couldn’t breathe properly.

“That was a preview. The next time you doubt how much I want you…” Xavier drew my bottom lip between his teeth and nipped. The sting traveled straight to the emptiness pulsing between my thighs. “Remember this.”

He gripped my hips again, pulling me off the desk and bending me over so I was bared to him. My skirt was still bunched around my hips, and my underwear lay in tatters on the floor.

I heard my desk drawer open, followed by the rasp of a zipper and the distinctive tear of tape.

My mouth dried. “What—” A piece of duct tape sealed over my lips, cutting me off.

“In case you scream again. You don’t want people hearing, remember?” Xavier’s dark velvet reply promised all sorts of wicked intent. “And I need my hands for something else.”

Lust and fear surged through me in equal measure, one indistinguishable from the other. He’d left my hands free, so I could easily tear off the tape—but I didn’t.

I lay there, legs spread, mouth taped, wetness dripping down my thighs at the obscene picture I must’ve made.

My fear didn’t stem from what he was about to do to me; it came from how much I wanted it. How much I liked the tiny loss of control because it meant I didn’t have to think; I could just feel. “Hold on to the desk.” Xavier’s warning shivered down my neck.

I barely had time to obey before he slammed into me, my back instinctively bowing from the force of his thrust. I tried to scream, but the duct tape prevented me from making anything except incoherent moans as he fucked me senseless, one hand holding me down, the other delving beneath my blouse to play with my breasts.

I clung to the edge of the desk, reduced to one giant raw, exposed nerve. Sweat coated my skin, and my clit throbbed in time with his thrusts, each pulse so powerful that it sent dark clouds across my vision.

Every time my pleasure seemed to plateau, another pinch, another squeeze, another thrust drove it higher to the point of being unbearable. My brain could no longer process the overwhelming sensations racking my body, and I seemed to slip out of myself for a second, seeing the filthy scene we presented to the world.

My hair had fallen from its bun. Wisps of it stuck to my flushed skin, and drool leaked from beneath the duct tape as Xavier pistoned in and out of me, his deep groans sinking into me as deeply as anything else.

I loved the sounds of his pleasure. I loved the way I felt right then, helpless and ravished yet so very safe. I—

My entire body tensed. Pinpricks of light dotted the drifts of black clouds, and I shook uncontrollably as I climaxed, bucking and jerking against his cock. My pussy spasmed again and again, sending lightning bolts of pleasure through my stupefied brain. I heard Xavier give a final, guttural grunt before he came too, but the waves kept coming, rolling through my body like a ceaseless ocean of electric, mind-numbing pleasure.

I didn’t know how long we stayed there, me sprawled bonelessly across the desk, him still buried inside me, but when we finally moved, it was almost two.

“Just in time for your meeting,” Xavier teased. I was a mess, but other than his ruffled hair and ruddy cheeks, he looked like he’d just stepped out of a magazine. Bastard. “I have impeccable timing.”

He cleaned me up and fixed my clothing with gentle hands before pulling the tape off my mouth.

“Hilarious.” My voice didn’t sound like mine; it was too hoarse from…A blush worked its way over my skin, and Xavier’s satisfied grin widened. “I’ll have to postpone my meeting. I can’t discuss media strategy looking like I’ve…”

“Been freshly and thoroughly fucked?”

My blush deepened at Xavier’s smoky drawl. “I wouldn’t put it quite that way,” I said with as much dignity as I could muster considering my underwear was in shreds.

What I’d done—what we’d done—was so out of character for me that I couldn’t quite wrap my head around it.

I wasn’t the type of person who mixed business and pleasure, which…well, okay, that horse had left its gate weeks ago. But I was hyperaware of my surroundings at all times, and I never engaged in compromising activities at the office.

Xavier was the only person who could make me forget about my rules and like it. It was disturbing.

God, I hoped no one had heard us. Everyone should be at lunch, but you never knew when an enterprising assistant chose to stay in and catch up on work (and catch her boss having sex in the process).

“You can put it any way you want, Luna, but it’s the truth.” Xavier’s lips touched mine. “For the record, you look beautiful when you’re freshly fucked.”

“How charming.” I should pick up the phone and reschedule my two-o’clock meeting, but I wanted to stay in his arms a while longer. “They should create a makeup tutorial for it.”

“I’m sure one already exists.” He drew back, examining me. “How are you feeling?”

“Good. A little sore, but…good.” I couldn’t find a better term to describe the weightlessness I felt. Good wasn’t adequate, but unlike other words, saying it didn’t freak me out.

“Good,” Xavier repeated.

His palms braced the desk on either side of me, and as we smiled at each other, the silence soft with contentment while we savored our last moments before reality intruded, another word surfaced in my mind.

Happy.

Simple, basic, but no less true.