The Rake (Boston Belles #4)(32)

She was outspoken, fierce, and confident.

She was also a stunner.

In the cab on my way to Belle, I wired my mother a handsome amount of money. Just as I was about to tuck the device back to my pocket, a message popped on the screen:

Unknown Number: are you still home? Lou. x

Louisa and I had exchanged phone numbers before she left Whitehall Court Castle after my father’s funeral. Since I didn’t want to repeat my ghosting mistake twice, I added her to my contacts and answered her.

Devon: back in Boston, but I’ll be headed to Britain for the reading of the will. Lunch?

Louisa: and drinks.

Devon: I never say no to those.

Louisa: good. Then I’ll make sure to crack open that Remy Martin cognac.

When I got to Madame Mayhem, I cut the four-hundred-yard line, slapped a few Benjamins on one of the bouncer’s chest and sauntered in, leaving a trail of disgruntled people behind me.

I found Belle manning the bar again, serving beers and flinging her blond hair behind her shoulder. She was clad in a top that looked like crème, ripped bodice, and cherry-red leather pants I was soon going to destroy with my teeth.

Goodbye to my promise of no scandals. It was good while it lasted … a couple days and some change.

Zeroing in on her, I made my way across the club, shouldering past people dancing and drunkenly laughing into each other’s ears.

Belle was so wrapped up in serving her customers, she didn’t even glance my way when she asked. “What can I get for you, honey?”

Honey.

The woman was a national embarrassment. What on earth propelled me to put a baby in her?

“Bend over, on all fours, while wearing nothing but a sultry expression, while begging me to fuck you.”

Her head twisted as shock flashed across her beautiful face. Her glare melted into an amused smile.

“I have twenty more minutes here.” Her hands moved quickly behind the bar. She seemed in no hurry to cater to me, the exact opposite of Louisa.

“No, you don’t. You’ll be waiting for me in your office in no more than ten minutes, buck naked and in the position I want you in.”

“Or?” She snorted, angling the soda gun in my direction threateningly.

“Or…” I grabbed the soda gun from across the bar and shoved it into her cleavage, right between her tits, lowering my voice an octave, my lips hovering over the shell of her ear “…I will see to it that you spend the night with your good friend, Magic Wand.”

“At least the magic wand doesn’t make idle promises,” she whispered back.

I pushed the button and sprayed cold diet coke between her breasts. Bubbles spilled over from her push-up bra. She let out a squeak, pushing me away.

“What do you think you’re doing, asshole?”

“Standing up to you, unlike all the other poor sods you pick as your lovers,” I said dryly.

“Withholding sex from me as punishment is your idea of standing up to me?” She let out a wild laugh, leaning down to grab a cloth and patting her chest dry. “Dude, you’re high. I can get it anytime I want it, anywhere I want it.”

“No arguments there. But it’s not sex you are after, Sweven. It is a child, and I know I’m the only one who’ll do.” I took a step back, glancing at my watch. “I have a conference call with Tokyo. I’ll see you in ten.”

“You’re going to pay for that little stunt,” she warned, slapping the cloth against the bar.

She threw more threats into the air, but I was already gone, accepting the call Joanne connected me to.

The call did not take more than four minutes. While Emmabelle wrapped things up, I wrote an email to my late father’s solicitor, Mr. Tindall, to see when the reading of the will would happen. Worry gnawed at my gut. Mum and Cece were in trouble.

I was careful to let Emmabelle wait an extra eight minutes before I pushed open the door to her office. She was waiting for me on her desk, which was littered with paperwork, envelopes, and a laptop, exactly as I requested. Naked and on all fours. She faced the wall, not the door, her yellow hair spilling in sheets across her back.

At the sound of the door clicking open, she whipped her head around.

I tsked. “Arse up and eyes on the wall.”

“I’ve heard better dirty talk from decorative houseplants, but I’m having too much fun to kick you out.” She turned back toward the wall.

I locked the door and strode into the room unhurriedly. Her pert arse was high in the air, the center of her pink and already glistening. She was ready for me, and I was going to take my sweet time enjoying her.

I stopped in front of her, silently admiring every perfect curve of her. Emmabelle Penrose was exquisite to a point she needn’t work a day in her life if she wished to. She could marry into fortune. Yet, she hadn’t.

“You still there?” she groaned. Secretly, her deliberately bad grammar amused me, even though the same trait grated on my nerves on anyone else.

“Patience.” I rolled my knuckles over the side of her arse, the touch so brief, so fleeting, her entire body flushed and her back arched as if I’d stuffed my cock into her.

“You’re such a tease,” she moaned. “Knock me up already.”

“With pleasure.” I bit the side of her bum softly, my teeth sinking into her derriere like it was a juicy peach.