by Linde, K. A.
The door was unlocked when we reached it, and Court let himself in. I didn’t know what I’d been expecting, but the place was massive. Completely unlike the evenly spaced doorways in the hallway. It was clear the owner had purchased multiple apartments and renovated them into one space.
“Wow,” I whispered to Court as he closed the door behind us.
“Yeah. Robert’s place has that effect. He’s always trying to buy out his neighbors and knock down more walls. Honestly, I’m not sure how structurally sound it is.”
“We’d have to ask Sam. Isn’t he good at that sort of thing?”
Court laughed. “That he is. Too bad that he’s in North Carolina, visiting family this weekend.”
“Oh, really?” I blinked. “I thought he was going to the Hamptons.”
“Seems he felt about as welcome as you did.”
“Huh. Lark didn’t tell me.”
“You’ve both been kind of busy.”
“True,” I agreed as I followed him into the living room and through the pulse of people.
We stopped when we reached the kitchen. An array of alcohol was displayed. There was even a bartender stationed at the front. My buzz was already wearing off. Whatever he was serving, I wanted it. It had been one hellish week.
Court pointed at me. “She’ll have a gin and tonic. I’ll take a bourbon and Coke.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but Court flashed me a smile. As if it was just another thing that he’d been raised to do. He knew what drink I liked. And he knew to order it for me. I let the protest die on my lips and took the procured gin and tonic.
“You made it!” a man crowed, appearing out of the crowd and clapping Court on the back.
Court turned and grinned at the Hispanic man I’d recognized from lunch the other day. “Robert, good to see you.”
“I just heard about your announcement.” Robert shook his hand. He was handsome with sun-kissed skin and dark hair, almost black, styled in the latest European fashion. He had the air of someone who could talk his way in and out of everything. “Congrats! Now, you’ll get to live the drudgery life like the rest of us.”
Court just laughed. “It was time.”
“It fucking was, man.” His gaze slipped to me. “Now, introduce me to your beautiful woman.”
I opened my mouth to object, but Court was already there. “This is English.”
Robert winked at me as he took my hand. “Pleasure to meet you. Any friend of Court Kensington is a friend of mine. But he does always find the loveliest woman in the room.”
“Thank you,” I said with a laugh. “I remember you from something. When I saw you at St. Regis, you were Robert something. Just on the tip of my tongue.”
“Ah, yes, next to a Kensington, Robert something is about as good as it gets, isn’t it?” He waved his hand with a flourish. “Robert Dawson, at your service.”
“Dawson! I knew it. I think we met when I was at Columbia. You’re friends with Lark.”
“Indeed, I am. Larkin St. Vincent is one of a kind.” He grinned at us both. “Well, I know most of New York is saying their last hurrah in the Hamptons this weekend, but I think it’ll pick up tonight.”
“Pick up?” I asked softly. “It’s already packed.”
“Robert fancies himself a bit of a Gatsby,” Court said.
Robert grinned at Court. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Kensington.”
Court just shook his head. Suddenly, a buxom woman with a sheet of mahogany hair appeared at his side.
“Hey, Court,” she said with big doe eyes accented with eyeliner.
“Poppy Arlington,” Robert crowed. “You were a maybe on the RSVP list.”
She winked at Robert. “I’d thought that I’d still be on my yacht in the Mediterranean, but I took one too many pills in Ibiza, if you know what I mean.”
“Sent you back to rehab?” Robert asked with a laugh.
“As if I didn’t have anything better to do,” she said with an eye roll. “How have you been, Court? I haven’t seen you around.”
“He’s working at Kensington Corporation again,” Robert interjected.
Court just shrugged and sipped his drink, oblivious or purposely ambivalent to Poppy’s flirtation. “Just busy.”
“Ooh, taking after Daddy,” she cooed. “I like.”
Court’s eyes narrowed at the insinuation. “Poppy, if you’ll excuse us.”
He took my arm and hauled me away from them.
“What was that about?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I like Robert. He’s good people. He went to boarding school in Europe and loves high fashion and elaborate parties. He makes Gavin look tame,” he said with a laugh. “Poppy is just…”
“Aggressive?”
“You could say that.”
We meandered to the edge of the living room that had been converted into a dance floor. I eyed the crowd of people. All so rich and carefree. I needed to drink more to feel like that.
But I drifted back to Court’s side. His eyes were on me. And I tried not to blush at the intensity of his look.
“Why did you let Robert think that we were together?” I couldn’t help but ask.
He stepped forward and drained his drink. “Aren’t we?”
I gulped. “No.”
“We came here together.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
He grinned at me and tucked a loose strand of blonde hair behind my ear. “Okay, Anna.”
Anna.
There was that name again. The one that no one ever used unless they didn’t know me. The one he somehow laced with so much desire.
“It’s… it’s English,” I murmured. “Everyone calls me English.”
He shrugged. “I’m not everyone.”
“Court, please,” I whispered, half-rebuke, half-plea.
He laughed gently as if my unease amused him. “Relax. Have a good time. I’d say we’ve both earned it.”
I nodded. We had. Then, I tipped the drink back and drained it.
“I’ll grab us another,” he promised. “Don’t leave.”
I watched him disappear back the way that we had come. This was dangerous territory, being here with Court. It was probably pretty stupid. But I’d just figured we’d put in so much work this week that it would be worth it to cut loose. That didn’t mean we had to do anything stupid. We could just hang out, especially since all of the rest of our friends were currently in the Hamptons. I’d rather do this than go back to the empty apartment, all alone again.
The music carried me away as the drink finally caught up with me. In Hollywood, I used to go out dancing with Winnie all the time. We’d ditch our respective beaus and dance the night away. Sometimes, we’d do it to keep up with clients, and sometimes, it was just for ourselves. Lark was too busy to go dancing all the time. Whitley was a hot plastic surgeon. As much as she wanted to go out all the time, it was too draining. And I still couldn’t get a full read on Katherine. She was loyal to a fault, and I was just getting into her good graces. This New York life was so different. It felt good to just let loose on the dance floor.
My hands were over my head. My eyes closed as I swayed my hips back and forth to the beat. Everything else just disappeared.
Then, a hand came to my hip. My eyes flew open, and I stared up into Court’s impossibly blue ones. He mirrored my movements with his own hips. A rocking that felt all too familiar.
He handed me a drink with a wink. I took it and didn’t halt my movements. Neither did he. I downed the drink like it was a lifeline. Probably not the smartest thing I’d ever done.
Court moved in closer when my drink was gone.
“What are you doing?” I said hoarsely over the music.
“Dancing.” He reached up for my arms, slinging them around his neck.
“This is a bad idea,” I said as his hands slid down my back. “What if people see? Or… what if…”
“English,” he breathed into my ea
r, “shut up.”
I shivered all over at the caress of his lips against my ear. Just the lightest brush. I was sober enough to know that we shouldn’t be doing this. That this wasn’t what I’d signed up for when I agreed to come to this party. But I was drunk enough to keep dancing. To want to feel his strong hands on my hips, the crush of his body against mine, to see the intensity in his eyes.
It was just a dance. A dangerous dance. And yet, I wanted to keep dancing with him. For one thing, he was just really fucking good at it. For another… well, my brain shut off when he was this close to me.
His hands slid from my hips to the small of my back, inching lower and lower. As if, at any moment, he would slide down to my ass. Maybe even lift the slim black dress I wore and touch skin. Skin that was on fire as we drew in closer and closer. So close that I could just stand on my tiptoes to meet his lips.
At the thought, I whirled around in his arms. Not that this was better. In fact, it might be worse. No longer was I close to his tempting lips, but now, my ass was pressed firmly against his growing erection. If he tipped me forward at the waist, we’d be exactly where we’d started a few weeks ago.
His arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me flush against him. Almost as if he knew that I was thinking of bolting. I slumped back against him, letting my hands drop around his neck.
He groaned into my ear. Fire spread through my core. It was erotic. Dancing with him like this made my pulse race and my skin heat and memories flood my system. Ones that I had been purposely trying to avoid. Because thinking about the best sex of my life when I was in Court Kensington’s arms was a recipe for disaster.
“Anna,” he murmured against my ear. “Fuck.”
I shuddered. Which only egged him on.
I needed to get away. Or I was going to give in to this. I wouldn’t care what happened.
I stopped moving and wrenched out of his grip. When I turned to face him, he just looked at me expectantly.
“It’s hot. I have to… get some air,” I said, shuffling past him.
It wasn’t a lie. I was hot and sweaty and sticky. The dancing had superheated me. Or had that been Court?
But I didn’t head outside. I didn’t want to be near people. I pushed through the crowd, away from Court, and toward what appeared to be a mostly deserted hallway. I could see that there was one person in line for a bathroom at the end of the hall. Perfect. Bathroom.
Then I felt a hand grab my elbow and pull me to a stop. I whipped around, only to find Court standing over me, pressing me back against the wall.
“Court, what…?”
“You said you needed air,” he said with a teasing smile that said he knew it was a lie. “The balcony is the opposite direction.”
I squirmed under his gaze. The way he towered over me and made my addled brain think about climbing him. I pointed down the hallway. “I decided on the bathroom.”
“Why are you trying to escape me?” he breathed, inches away.
“I’m not.”
“Stop lying to me. You can hate me. You can think whatever you want about me. But just stop lying. You’re so hot for me right now.”
My back hit the wall. His hand slid up my inner thigh, under my dress, and to my black lace thong. His fingers skimmed across the soaked fabric. I shuddered at the intimacy. Then, he slid the material aside and slicked his fingers through my own wetness.
“Oh god,” I moaned, my head dropping backward.
“See?” he said, as if proving his point.
He slid his fingers out from between my legs and held them between us. Wet. Soaking wet. As if I hadn’t known beforehand. Then, he did the unthinkable, and he brought those two fingers to his mouth and sucked the wetness off them.
“You taste like fucking candy.”
I bit my lip hard. “Court… please… we-we shouldn’t.”
“Yes, oh yes, we fucking should.”
And then my walls crumbled. I knew why I had been fighting this. There were a millions reasons to say no. But with Court Kensington pinning me against a wall with my wetness on his fingers and sucked into his mouth as he all but commanded my very body, how could I say no? Why would I say no?
I reached up onto my tiptoes and crushed my mouth to his.
Damn it all.
15
English
The line to the bathroom had vanished by the time I came up for air. Court took my hand and dragged me into it. He kicked the door shut and yanked the bolt into place. The air was charged between our bodies. As if electricity crackled from the mounting tension of the last couple of weeks.
Our limbs tangled around each other as our lips came together. It wasn’t gentle. That wasn’t me and Court. It was fire and ice. It was the push and pull. It was teeth and tongue. The fight. The battle. The knockout.
“Oh god,” I groaned against his mouth.
Only to have him reach under my dress and yank my underwear off. He dropped them to the ground, and I stepped out of them, kicking my heels off, too. Then he hoisted me up by my waist, dropping me onto the bathroom counter.
My hands fisted in his button-up, drawing him closer. My legs wrapped around his hips. His hands tangled in my hair. The fight continued with our tongues. A throb cut through my core. A dull roar echoed in my ears. Only this moment existed. The desperate need. The fear of getting caught. The rush of needing him right this fucking second.
My fingers pushed at his belt, undoing it with a dexterity I hadn’t known I possessed. Then his pants, until the only barrier between us was his boxer briefs.
Court wrenched back long enough to release himself. My eyes rounded again. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t dreamed his size. That it was possible that he was as big as the image I’d had of him as I masturbated in my empty penthouse.
He searched out a condom and slid it over his length before positioning himself before me. I could already hear the people outside. A line was forming. I didn’t give two fucks.
“Anna,” he breathed.
But it was the only word he got out before he slid into me, hard and fast. I yelped in surprise and pain and hot, needy pleasure. His hand came to my mouth, silencing me. I knew we had to be quiet. The line outside this room might know what we were doing in here, but there was no reason to announce it to the world.
I buried my fingers in his lush hair and brought his mouth to mine. He kissed me with a vengeance. Almost a punishment for making us wait so long for this again. And fuck, did I want my punishment.
He was at the perfect height to pound into me. Our bodies smacked together. Our chests pressed tight. Not even a seam.
It was quick. It was relentless. It was exactly what I needed and wanted. Even if I shouldn’t want it at all.
I’d been a fool to think otherwise. That I could suppress this want. That I could use brash words to avoid the inevitable. And as he took my pussy as his own, claimed it with a driving force, I knew it truly had been inevitable. After that first time, could I really ever go back?
“Fuck. Oh fuck,” I said low and hushed against his mouth.
“Come for me. I want to watch you come all over my cock.”
His words were filthy. And they triggered something inside of me. My body spasmed, and then I had to bite down on my lip to keep from crying out as I came long and hard.
“Shit,” he groaned, his eyes intent on my face.
My orgasm forced his, and he pulled me tighter to him, so crushing that I could barely breathe, as he finished inside of me.
Someone banged on the door.
We both jumped as if we’d forgotten that we were in the bathroom at Robert’s apartment. That we’d just fucked in a public place and there might be other people waiting outside.
“Are you done in there?” a girl yelled. “Christ!”
“Just a minute,” Court answered like a whip.
The girl didn’t say another word.
He withdrew and tossed the condom as I righted my clothes, pulled my panties back on, and
tried desperately to straighten my hair. I didn’t look like myself in that moment. I didn’t look sensible or like a hard-hitting celebrity publicist. I looked like a woman who’d had a quickie in the bathroom. A woman who had been properly fucked.
“Walk confidently out, and no one will say anything,” he told me.
“I know how it works.”
He grabbed the back of my head, tugging my hair so that I looked up at him. Then, he kissed me again until my knees went weak.
As my legs wobbled beneath me, he just smirked triumphantly and then pulled the door open. A half-dozen people waited in line as we filed out like we owned the place. I made certain not to look anyone in the face. It was clear what we’d done, but if I looked guilty, then maybe they’d remember rather than just write it off.
And I couldn’t have anyone remembering.
We didn’t say a word as we disappeared through the front of Robert’s door and left the party behind. My brain was fuzzy from the alcohol and the sex. I felt almost… giddy. Which I could hardly even believe, considering my personal life the last six weeks. But I’d been in control for so long. Everything in my life had been something I had put in motion. I’d clawed my way into everything that I had. And now, for once, someone else was taking control.
It shouldn’t be Court. But it was.
He tugged me into the back of the black car and told the driver to take him home. His fingers trailed through my hair.
“You’ll stay with me tonight,” he told me.
It wasn’t a question.
“Court…”
“I don’t want to hear that it’s a bad idea. I think we’re past that now.”
“You’re a bad influence,” I said cheekily.
He snorted. “Says the girl who lamented the fact that we weren’t going to do cocaine tonight.”
I straightened and pointed at him. “I did not say that. I was the one who said no cocaine.”
