He’s attracted to me. I feel how much he wants me when we kiss sometimes, and I can see that he yearns for more when he holds me close longer than he intends to sometimes.
I’m trained to read people—body language, words, nonverbal cues. I can even decipher things from someone’s laughter. And while I know Jonah wants me, I don’t know if it’s just physical, or something more. And I don’t know if he wants to act on the attraction, or if the guilt would overwhelm him if we do.
The event is being held in the ballroom of a downtown hotel, lavishly decorated with topiaries enrobed in twinkle lights, dinner tables laden with ornate glassware and place settings, and a large dance floor with a string quartet. Not to mention the magnificent art being displayed on easels and stands, which will be sold in tonight’s silent auction.
Jonah leads me toward our table, stopping partway there to lean down and kiss my neck. My lips part as his mouth meets my skin, making my stomach flip with excitement.
“He’s here,” Jonah whispers in my ear, nipping at my earlobe.
I almost laugh. Here I am, reveling in his touch like a giddy woman in love, while he’s already spotted Shields. I have to stop fangirling over Jonah and focus on the reason I’m here.
It takes me a few seconds to casually locate Shields. He’s standing in a small group of men, all of them laughing. Fucking scumbag. I wonder if those guys know their friend traffics children.
I lock eyes with Jonah and hope he reads my unspoken message. Follow my lead.
“Want to look at the auction stuff?” I ask him.
“Yeah, sure.”
He takes my hand, and I give a little tug toward the side of the room where Shields is standing. Jonah leads the way over there, both of us pretending we’re heading toward a painting on display.
“That would look amazing on the wall in your living room,” I say. “The empty one.”
“Yeah, it’s nice. And I need to buy something here to make a donation. Might as well make it quick and easy.”
I shake my head and laugh at what a man he is.
“Renee?” Shields reaches out as we pass and touches my arm.
I turn and pretend I’m just recognizing him, breaking into a smile. “Darren, right?”
“Yes. Great to see you again.”
Taking Jonah’s arm, I say, “Babe, this is Darren Shields. Remember me telling you how I got lost at the game and he walked me back to the right VIP box?”
Jonah smiles. “Thanks for that, man. Really nice of you.”
“I think we’ve met, but it’s been a while.” Shields holds out his hand and Jonah shakes it.
“Yeah, you’re a friend of Durand’s, right?”
“Most of the time,” Shields quips.
Shields and the other guys small talk with Jonah about hockey, and I play the role of doting girlfriend. Inside, though, I’m feeling the thrill of finally making some headway with this case. I’ve been working it for almost two months now, and it’s been frustratingly slow.
This is the right way to do it, though. Earn Shields’s trust and become part of his inner circle.
My plan is to convince Shields that Jonah and I are a young, happy and very sexually adventurous couple. I need him to want more than just a facile friendship with us—he needs to believe we might be open to the perverse abuse he considers a turn on.
I swipe a glass of champagne from a tray and down half of it. When Jonah looks at me with an arched brow, I giggle and say, “Hope you’re up for a late night, baby.”
Looking at Shields, I explain. “The more I drink, the more I can’t wait to get him home to bed.”
“And not for sleep, I presume?” Shields says as he grins.
“Not with this one.” Jonah slides his hand around my waist and then down to cup my ass. “She’s better than any workout with my trainer.”
Shields and his friends laugh heartily at that, impressed by the pro athlete and his Barbie doll sex fiend. I play right along, willing to do and say whatever it takes to get closer to Shields.
Another couple comes over to greet Shields, and Jonah shakes his hand again as we leave.
“Great to see you again, Renee,” Shields says, giving my hand a brief squeeze.
I squeeze back and smile. “Hope to see you again soon, Darren.”
“Me too. And I hope you two enjoy your night.”
“Always.” I bite my lip coyly and follow Jonah, letting my gaze linger on Shields.
Jonah looks down at me. “How you doing? You okay?”
“I’m good,” I say in a level tone, letting him know I’m stone cold sober and was just pretending.
“You are good,” he whispers.
“Where’s the coat room?” I ask, still feeling the arousal that was only half-pretend for me.
“You need me to get something from your coat? I can go while you stay here.”
Such a gentleman. I’ve never been with a man who wants to take care of me the way Jonah does, and damned if it’s not hot.
“I was hoping we could sneak off and make out,” I admit.
“Really?”
I nod, trying to read his expression. “I guess we can’t since there are so many people working in the coat check, but if we could…would you?”
“Yeah. I definitely would.”
He slides his hand around my waist again, this time with enough pressure that I can imagine what his hand might feel like on my bare skin. I close my eyes, imagining just for a second, not caring whether this attraction is only physical for Jonah.
I want him. A lot. And I’ll take what I can get.
“There’s always tonight,” he says, staring down at me.
“Tonight.” I repeat, holding his gaze.
Jonah leans in and kisses me, his lips soft, warm and intent. I plan to go back to his place tonight, and this time, I’m not getting into his bed alone.
Chapter Sixteen
Jonah
Rey and I are ready to leave the fundraiser before everyone else; I think we both have the same thing in mind. We take an Uber back to my place, and it’s all I can do to keep my hands from roaming beneath her dress during the ride.
“Hey, are you two famous or something?” the Uber driver asks, eyeing us in the rearview mirror.
“Nah, just dressed up for a charity event,” I answer, trying to keep my voice level as Rey slides her hand up my inner thigh.
“You look famous,” he says skeptically.
“I play hockey,” I say, easing the bottom of Rey’s dress up enough that I can brush my hand across her bare knee.
Her dark eyes flare with desire and she squeezes my leg gently, causing my erection to swell against the seam of my pants. I’m aching to touch all the hidden parts of her.
“I think that’s it,” the driver says, grinning. “I saw pictures of you guys in the paper. You’re the widowed guy who found love again, aren’t you? From the Blaze. Jordan West, right?”
Rey smiles, amused.
“Jonah,” I say, smiling back at her. “And yeah, that’s me.”
“Man, that’s cool.” He nods, pleased that he figured it out. “Wish I could find somebody good. All I got is a shady ex who keeps coming into my apartment and crapping in my toilet.”