Surely that deserved some sort of response.
“Deacon…” She sighed, and a wrinkle formed between her brows.
She was going to say no. Of course she was going to say no. Why had he slept with Gwen in December? He’d known it was wrong but had done it anyway. He was some kind of fool. A complete and utter—
“I would love to try with you.”
His relieved breath came out in an audible gasp.
Yes. She’d said yes.
Hope built in his chest as he reached for her, and she didn’t push him away. She’d really said yes.
Her eyes fluttered shut when he lost his fingers in her hair and crushed his lips to hers. God he loved kissing her. The way she clung to him. The way she moaned into his mouth when he nudged her knees apart with his thigh. The way she wrapped her legs around his waist. The way her body conformed to his in all the right places. The way her dress felt like no more than a whisper over her waist. Her hips. Her thighs.
The way her back arched, thrusting her chest forward, making it clear stopping was the last thing on her mind. He especially loved that.
The adrenaline coursing through his veins engulfed him in unbearable flames, itching to be extinguished. Could she feel it? Did he make her feel the same way? He kissed Vivienne’s jaw below her ear, knowing she’d sigh and drag on his hair. His lips moved lower while his hands worked their way back up to her waist. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt.
His hands continued their upward climb until they reached her ribs and then her—
“Do you hear that?” she asked in a breathless whisper. Her heaving chest rose and fell when she unraveled herself from around him.
“Hear what?” he groaned, adjusting his jeans.
“The door.”
The only sounds he could hear were his own heart beating in his ears and their heavy breathing. “I don’t hear any—”
Dammit. Someone was knocking on the door.
“Who do you think it is?” She tugged her skirt back to her knees from where it had risen over her thighs.
He shook his head and pushed the fabric higher. “I don’t give a—”
The devil’s knocking turned to pounding.
“Deacon,” she giggled, smacking his hand. “They’re not going away.”
“All right, all right.” He fastened the buttons she’d opened and walked uncomfortably to the door. Whoever was there was about to hear him curse in every language he knew.
“Nice lipstick,” Nicola drawled, rubbing her red, swollen eyes with her fingers. “Not sure it’s your shade though.”
What was she doing here? And why was she crying?
“I’m a little busy at the minute.” He used the back of his hand to wipe Vivienne’s lipstick from his mouth. “Can you come back later?” Or never. Never was good.
“I didn’t realize you had company.”
He knocked his fist against his thigh. “If you’d rang first—”
“I called you four times,” she hissed, pinching the bridge of her nose and muttering about needing help with Ethan. “He says he’s going to another stupid meeting tonight and refuses to listen to me. And when I talked to him an hour ago, he sounded drunk. He’s not answering his phone, and he’s not at his house. I checked Lee’s but it doesn’t look like anyone’s there yet. I thought maybe he came to see you.”
“Is that Nicola?” Vivienne called from the living room. She’d relocated to the sofa.
“You brought Vivienne here?” she snapped in a harsh whisper. “You’re an asshole. You know that, right?” She shoved him out of her way and stepped into the house. “Hey, Vivienne.”
There was no point in telling her it wasn’t what she thought. Nicola wouldn’t believe him.
“Hey!” Vivienne waved at her from the sofa, a wide smile on her face. She’d fixed her dress and hair. “Where’s Ethan?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Nicola said, crossing to sit next to her. “I thought he’d be here.”
“Come on in,” Deacon muttered to no one in particular before shutting the door. He picked up his mobile from the entry table and saw the missed calls. “I’ll ring and see if I can get him.” On his way up the stairs, he tried Ethan twice. When the calls went straight to voicemail, he made a third call to Kensington.
“Hey, Dash.”
“Julie, I need you to do a trace on Ethan.” He wiped what remained of Vivienne’s lipstick from the corner of his mouth and fixed his disheveled reflection in his bedroom mirror.
Julie’s voice dropped. “I told you after the last time that I couldn’t help you anymore.”
He quickly explained the situation, and Julie reluctantly agreed. She tracked Ethan’s mobile, car, and helmet to his house. Ethan might have forgotten one or the other, but not all three. “Thank you, Julie. You’re a lifesaver.”
“Don’t tell anyone I did this for you.”
“I wouldn’t dare.” He checked his reflection once more before going back downstairs to find Vivienne and Nicola speaking in low tones on the sofa.
He shouldn’t have left the two of them alone together. “Ethan’s at his house,” he said, happy to interrupt.
Nicola swore. “Seriously? I was just there.”
“He was probably hiding.” Ethan had done it before.
“Ugh! He’s so immature.” She kicked the coffee table. “If he goes tonight, I swear I’m gonna kill him.”
“I’m so confused,” Vivienne mumbled, massaging her temples.
Was she flushed? She looked flushed. If Nicola had upset her . . .
“Are you all right, Vivienne?” he asked, kneeling in front of her. “Do you feel unwell?” From the corner of his eye, he saw Nicola give him a strange look. She could shove off.
“I’m great. A tiny bit tipsy though,” she giggled, reaching for his hand. “Can you tell me what’s happening with Ethan?”
Tipsy? Was that why she’d said yes? Would she still feel the same way tomorrow? Perhaps it was a good thing Nicola had interrupted when she did. The last thing he wanted was for Vivienne to regret anything that happened between them.
“Ethan’s drunk too,” he said slowly, “and liable to do something stupid, like drive or fly.” Or attend a rebellious meeting and possibly get kicked out of Neverland.
“Then we need to make sure he’s okay.”
“I’ll go.” Nicola dragged her keys from her jacket pocket. “You guys get back to your…date,” she drawled, narrowing her eyes at him.
“Deacon lit candles,” Vivienne whisper-shouted.
“Did he now?” Nicola’s brows arched as she took in the scene in the kitchen.
He ignored her and went to grab three bottles of water from the fridge. His relationship with Vivienne was none of her business. “If Ethan’s in one of his moods, he’s not going to listen to a thing you say, Nicola.” Hell, he didn’t know if Ethan would listen to anyone at this stage. “I can at least make sure he’s not going to get behind the wheel.”
“Wait!” Vivienne whirled around and pointed to Deacon. “You can’t drive cuz you’ve been drinking.”