I didn’t know a neck could go pale, but Lucius’s does based on something he’s seeing inside the living room.
My first scary thought is that something has happened to Pearl, but then I hear the sounds.
Oh, boy. Is that what I think it is?
Reaching Lucius’s side, I stop, my eyes going wide as my cheeks catch fire.
Yep. It is indeed what I suspected.
Pearl is having her way with Aleksy—and if her moans of his name are anything to go by, she’s having a blast. Oh, and despite being tied up, her bodyguard is clearly doing this consensually. His happy grunts and the “yes, mistress, yes!” are a testament to that.
My face flames hotter with embarrassment, and I can’t even imagine how Lucius is feeling. Pearl’s back is to us, but I’m not sure that makes it any easier on Lucius’s psyche. If I saw my grandparents doing it, I’d almost certainly be traumatized—even if it didn’t look like a scene out of Fifty Shades.
Fighting a hysterical giggle, I touch Lucius’s shoulder.
He jumps and whips his head toward me, his eyes wild and confused. I nod at the hallway from which we came and make the two-fingers-walking gesture.
A spark of sanity returns to his gaze. He grabs my hand, and we tiptoe away like two thieves.
Once outside, Lucius sprints to the limo as though he’s being chased by horny werewolves, and since he’s still clutching my hand in a death grip, I sprint with him.
“We need to go,” he shouts at Elijah. “Now!”
As soon as Elijah slams on the gas, I close the privacy partition.
“Are you okay?” I ask breathlessly. Thankfully, the urge to giggle like a little girl has faded, so I can focus on Lucius instead of on how mortifying that encounter was.
“I’m not sure,” he replies, sounding dazed. “I mean, I’m happy that she’s healthy enough to do that, but…” He shakes his head. “Sorry. I’m not sure I want to talk more about this.”
“Good idea.” I myself would like to have these recent images expunged from my memory, so I bet he’d pay a billion for that memory wipe treatment from Eternal Sunshine. “Just one last tangentially related thing—my phone.”
“Right,” he says. “I’ll get it tomorrow.”
I fight the urge to kiss the crease on his forehead. “Will you tell either of them that you know?”
“Never,” he says with feeling.
Okay. I owe him a change of subject, big time, so I say, “Tell me what your favorite feature of Novus Rome will be.”
I’m officially a billionaire whisperer. His face returns to its normal hue, the crease relaxes, and his eyes brighten. “It’s hard to pick just one favorite. Have I told you about our smart mobility plan?”
I think he has, but I shake my head since this is more of a therapy situation, not information gathering on my part.
He proceeds to tell me that Novus Rome will not allow residents to keep their cars inside the community. Those who own personal cars will have to leave them in a parking lot outside Novus Rome. Inside, a fleet of self-driving electric cars will be the transportation of choice. No need for private garages, no air pollution, and everyone will be much safer since said cars will always follow the speed limit and communicate with each other and the roads in order to avoid any and all accidents.
“Wait,” I say, intrigued despite myself. “Novus Rome will have sensors in the sidewalks and roads?”
He nods excitedly.
“Sounds Orwellian,” I say.
He shrugs. “The data will only be used for car navigation and pedestrian safety.”
“Huh, okay. What’s your second-favorite feature?”
He talks about the superfast internet access everyone in Novus Rome will enjoy for free, even while hiking in the preserved woods.
Usually, I’d question the wisdom of having people plugged in like that when they’re trying to enjoy nature, but the limo stops, and my earlier goal of inviting him over to my place resurfaces its horny head, causing me to get tongue-tied once again.
“We’re here.” He gestures out the window, his expression unreadable.
“Yeah.” I know I should go, but I don’t move, not even when Elijah opens the door.
Worse yet, my cheeks flush, despite the fact that I haven’t said anything, let alone invited anyone anywhere.
Gah.
Since when am I such a scaredy cat? Why can’t I be bold, like his grandmother, who clearly asked a much younger man if she could tie him up before—
“I’ll walk you to your door,” Lucius states.
“Thanks,” I blurt and finally move my ass out.
This is good. I have more time to summon my courage.
Except the whole walk to my place, I’m as silent as a Charlie Chaplin movie. Finally, there’s no more walk to be had, at which point I deliver my best conversational gambit to date: “This is a door. I mean, my door.”
The corners of his eyes smile. “I’m familiar with the concept of a door. Yours sounds special.”
I bite my lip. “You’ve probably designed some sort of smart door for the houses in Novus Rome. A door that probably greets you and opens on its own.” And maybe such a door would be able to invite fake boyfriends in when the owner is a chicken.
He moistens his lips—though it looks a bit like a wolf licking his chops. “That’s a great idea. I haven’t given smart doors much thought just yet.”
Shit. He looks like he wants to kiss me. Or is that wishful thinking on my part?
I suck in a calming breath. This is it. I’m going to get him inside. “My Murphy bed is stuck. Can you help?” I rattle out in one breath—just as he also says something.
“What did you say?” I ask, mentally chastising myself. Why Murphy bed? What was I thinking? Being in my bedroom, that’s way too brazen and obvious. Also, how do I now fake it being stuck?
“I asked if I could see your cactus again,” Lucius says. “I didn’t know how important it was to you when you gave me that tour. What was it you said? Something about Murphy’s Law?”
A huge, silly grin bursts out on my face. “Don’t worry about what I said. You can totally see my cactus.”
As I fumble with my keys, I can’t help wondering if “cactus” is code for something else. If so, the scientific name for butterfly pea—the plant that makes that nice blue tea—would work much better, since it’s Clitoria Ternatea, or simply Clitoria. Since Lucius is into Latin, he’d like that.
“There,” I say when the door is open wide. “Come inside.”
Damn it. Why does everything I say sound dirty all of a sudden?
He steps inside, strides over to El Duderino, and examines him very intently, seemingly with great appreciation.
Dude. Is this dude planning to munch on me? That’d be totally uncool.
“This is a beavertail, right?” Lucius asks.
All my dirty mind hears is “beaver” and then “tail,” but I mumble something in the affirmative. Then I realize Lucius must’ve researched my cactus.
Argh! My ovaries may just explode.
Before I can think better of it, I stumble over to my Murphy bed and shake it hard enough for the springs to creak. “Oh, no. It’s stuck. Can you help me?”
Damn it. Why couldn’t I come up with something new?
It doesn’t matter, though.
He turns, and there’s heat in his eyes as he says, “Isn’t that your bedroom?”
I nod and shake the Murphy bed again.
Moving with smooth, athletic grace, he walks over and tugs on the front of my couch/bed.
Whoosh.
The thing has never converted from couch to bed that fast.
I swallow, looking up at him. “I must have loosened that up for you.”
Loosened up? What’s next, discussion of lubing the gears?
He looks at the bed, then back down at me. “Goodnight?”
Damn. His voice is as husky as a purebred from Siberia. My heart hammers so fast I’m in danger of my ribcage breaking. He’s staring at me with those steel-colored eyes that are beginning to look like molten metal, and I can’t seem to draw in enough air. Or rather, every breath I pull in makes me acutely aware of his subtle masculine scent and the heat radiating from his large body.
“Juno…” His voice is even huskier. “I’m going to kiss you. If you don’t want this, say it now.”
“I…” I lick my dry lips. “I definitely want this.”
And with that, I rise up on my tiptoes, wind my arms around his neck, and press my lips to his.