Own the Wind(112)

So it was good, Hop thought, that they weren’t sleeping, they were just resting.

On that thought, he fell asleep, Lanie curved close and held tight in his arm, her perfume all over his sheets, and he did it smiling.

* * *

Three hours later, Hop woke and he did not smile.

Lanie’s perfume was still all over the sheets.

Lanie just wasn’t in them.

* * *

Hop was stretched out on the fluffy cushion on the lounge chair in her courtyard, feet crossed at the ankles, eyes trained to the back door of the garage.

He had no idea how late it was, he just knew it was dark and he’d been there a really f*cking long time.

Too long.

Long enough for him to get pissed.

Or more pissed.

He heard her garage door go up and didn’t move when he heard it or when he heard the purr of her sweet ride moving into it. A pearl-red Lexus LFA. According to word on Chaos, her father bought it for her.

High class ran in the family. So did money.

He only moved off the chair when he heard the garage door going down.

He was on his feet when the outside lights to her courtyard that separated her brownstone from the garage came on, but he didn’t move from his spot even as the door opened.

She strode out, sex on heels stilettos, tight skirt, tailored blazer that was unbelievably feminine, hair out to there, slim, shiny, expensive briefcase in her hand, trim, small designer purse over her shoulder.

A cosmo girl tricked out in business gear.

“Yo,” he called when she shut the door. He watched her jump and swing around to him, face pale, eyes huge.

“Oh my God, Hop. You scared me half to death.”

He didn’t reply.

When he didn’t, her face lost its pallor, her head tipped to the side, and her brows knitted as she asked, “What are you doing here?”

“Told you, I wasn’t done with you,” he answered and her head immediately righted with a snap.

“Hop—” she started.

“Told you that,” he cut her off, “still, you snuck outta my bed and slunk away.”

She took one step toward him, her body moving like she was going to take more, but she suddenly stopped.

“I said just one night,” she reminded him.

“And I said I wasn’t done with you,” he fired back.

“I—” she began, but he interrupted her again.

“You had dinner?”

Her head jerked in surprise then she answered, “Yes, a business dinner. New client.”

“Good,” he grunted. “Upstairs. Naked. Now.”

He felt it coming off her in waves.

She wanted that.

Bad.

Then her head moved again, it was jerky again but she was forcing herself to do it, shaking it side to side. “We agreed. One night.”

“I think we also agreed, though the words weren’t spoken, one night’s not enough.”

“This can’t get complicated,” she reminded him.

“You keep your mouth shut, I keep my mouth shut, we’re smart, we contain it, no one finds out, we understand what it is and stick to the boundaries, it won’t.”

“I don’t think—”

“Lanie. Upstairs. Naked. Now.”

He saw her breath come fast, her chest moving with it, and Jesus, f*ck him, he could taste her excitement and he was five feet away.

“We shouldn’t—”

“Fucked you on your back. Like to look in your eyes when I’m inside you. Done that. Now I want you on your knees, gonna f*ck your face and your cunt, and I can’t do that in the courtyard. It’d shock the shit outta me, class act like you gets into that, but if I got you naked, you’re all mine. I don’t share with the neighbors.”

She stood stock-still, her eyes riveted to him, the only thing moving on her body was her chest rising and falling with quick breaths.

“Lanie,” he leaned in, “upstairs. Naked. Right… f*cking… now.”

She took off toward her sliding glass door.

Hop didn’t move but he did smile when she dropped her keys, cursed under her breath, and crouched in that tight skirt to get them.

Second go, she got in and left the door open as she hurried inside.

Hop stared at the door before taking a deep breath and walking to it.

He got inside and saw it was a big kitchen, living, dining area. He saw the clock on the microwave said it was ten forty-two.

He took no more in.

This wasn’t them. To make sure something that could get complicated didn’t, he understood that this wasn’t what he was going to take or what she could give. He didn’t get to look at her shit, check out pictures in frames, see if she was clean or messy, read what he could in how she decorated.

He didn’t get that.

He got what was upstairs, naked in her bed.

He turned slowly and slid the door closed. He locked it. Then he moved through the dark space.

He found the blazer on the carpet of the stairs. A camisole on the landing. Her skirt on the next flight. Panties, bra, and shoes leading him to a room from which dim light was coming.

He was hard by the time he made it to her room.

He didn’t look around there either. Not because it wasn’t what he got from her but because she was on her ass in her bed, knees to her chest, chin to her knees, arms wrapped around her calves, ankles crossed at her ass, hiding everything but still cute as all f*ck.