I leaned in. She stopped breathing and looked down, waiting…expecting… wanting. It took every ounce of fucking self-control in me to lift my hand and brush her delicate neck instead of pinning her wildly to the floor and ripping her stupid leggings from her thighs.
She released a breath, lolling her head to the side. “I’m going to regret this.” Her voice was tiny, like her.
“Probably,” I agreed. “But it’ll be worth it.”
My lips made the journey from her neck to their final destination—to where they fucking belonged from day one. Her warm breath tickled my flesh, and I wanted her to suffocate me with her kiss. I resisted the urge to ball my fists, unexpectedly worried about how this would go down. I was starving for her. My next move wasn’t going to be a calculated one, and that was the first time I’d felt that way about anything in a long time.
I was so close that I was able to feel her skin meeting mine, the little lines of her red lips brushing mine, when the door unlocked and fucking Rosie walked in.
Emilia withdrew herself from me immediately before I had a chance to finish the job, and started collecting the takeout containers littered around us.
“Rosie!” Her voice pitched high. “What took you so long? I got you some noodle soup. It will warm you right up.”
She quickly disappeared into the kitchen behind a long white wall. I leaned back on my forearms on the drop cloth, staring at grown-up Rosie like she’d pissed in my food. She returned a feisty look in my direction. Oddly, it made me feel like a teenager all over again.
“If you hurt her, I will kill you.” She pointed her finger at me for emphasis.
I was perfectly still, giving zero fucks about this five-foot-four gnome firing threats at me like she was Rambo.
“Cock-blocking me first and threatening me? Should I remind you that the only reason you’re not living in a sewer with that rat who trains the Ninja Turtles is because of my generosity?” I slanted my head sideways, flashing her my arrogant smirk. It was the exact one that drove men insane with anger and women mad with lust.
Rosie, of course, was immune to my charm. Using her to get her sister’s attention ten years ago had killed every good thought she’d had about me. Not that she’d had many even before we kissed. In fact, I was pretty sure our lips had only locked because she was irritated by my lack of attention. I was the only teenager with a dick at All Saints who hadn’t been consumed with impressing her. Of course, I was fully occupied with obsessing over her older sister.
“Generosity, my ass.” She walked deeper into the room. Honestly, for a chick who suffered from a congenital lung disease, she looked pretty perky to me. “I don’t know what you’ve got planned for her, but if it’s vicious like you, I’m not going to let you get away with it.”
I needed to stop this exchange before Emilia came back to the living room and Rosie shit all over my progress with her. Both sisters were feisty, but while Emilia was sassy in a I’m-a-good-person-but-can-engage-in-fun-banter kind of way, Rosie was more from the I’ll-stab-you-in-your-sleep-if-you-piss-me-off school. It was certainly not the only reason why I preferred Emilia to her sister, but it was a part of it. They looked the same, but they didn’t feel the same. Not by a fucking long shot.
“My intentions are pure,” I lied.
“I don’t believe you,” Rosie snapped.
“Too fucking bad because I’m not going anywhere, so you better get used to me.” I got up. I was a little woozy from the cheap wine and lack of sleep, but high as fuck on everything else that had happened that evening.
My high school obsession strode back into the living room with a bowl of soup and an apologetic smile.
“Vic was just leaving. Our company signed a huge deal today. He needed to brief me about tomorrow morning,” she explained.
I hated that she felt like she owed her sister some sort of an explanation.
“I’ll see you tomorrow at the office.” I smoothed my shirt with my palm.
Emilia nodded, but looked a million miles away from where we were just moments ago. That fucking sparkle in her eyes had died. Her sister’s face must’ve reminded her how much of a douchebag I was.
“Again…” Emilia cleared her throat, her tone professional. “Congrats on the merger.”
I left with my throbbing dick trying to worm its way out of my pants to the nearest high-class hooker in this zip code. I didn’t know New York well enough to have a steady fuck here, but it didn’t matter anyway. The storm that brewed in me was going to calm only when my cock was deep inside Emilia LeBlanc, and not a moment sooner.
As I punched the elevator button and ran my hand through my hair, something strange dawned on me, and for the first time in years, I had a clear idea of what I wanted from life that had nothing to do with my career, money, or ruining Jo and Dad.
I wanted Emilia.
I wanted to kiss her whenever I felt like it.
I wanted to mark her in a million different ways.
I’d told Rosie the truth. I wasn’t going anywhere. I was staying in New York until my dad died, until Josephine became penniless, and until I banged Emilia like I’d wanted to when I was eighteen.
In the elevator up to the penthouse, my phone pinged with a message from Dean.
Just a friendly reminder—I’ll be coming back to New York soon. If I were you, I’d run now before I get to you.
I didn’t even grace his bullshit with a reply. Just walked into his apartment, with its tinted floor-to-ceiling windows, and started packing his shit for him, throwing his expensive suits into his designer garment bags.
We weren’t switching back anytime soon. Not until I got what I wanted.
He was staying in LA.
Whether he liked it or not.
ROSIE SHOOK HER HEAD, HER eyes following my every movement. She didn’t need to do anything—I knew what she had to say.
“Shut up about it,” I warned, cleaning the area around the easel and giving her my back while she sat at the dining table and watched me in my painting corner.
She kept staring at me, not touching her soup.
I didn’t regret almost kissing Vicious. For once in my life, I hadn’t played it safe. I wasn’t cautious. I didn’t paint my life in oil colors. I’d reached for acrylic, quick to dry, and settled on it—whatever it was I wanted with him.
“Fine,” Rosie bit out. “But for the record, I warned you.”
She slid a manila envelope across the white dining table. I opened it and stared at the money, ignoring her while counting it. Instead of feeling happy about selling a painting, I was filled with unease.
Was I about to make a huge mistake by messing around with Vicious? Probably. But I couldn’t deny myself what I wanted, and we weren’t kids anymore.
This was happening.
He was going to use me, and I was going to use him back.
It was a mistake of epic proportions, I knew that.
And just like any huge mistake, payback was going to be painful.
Sadly, it was a price I was willing to pay.
The next morning, I arrived early at the office. I wasn’t sure why, but I wanted everything to be in perfect order.
For the first time, Vicious’s coffee and breakfast were waiting for him on his desk.