Chapter 112
Lance
"Now you're catching on," I said, taking another turn that brought us deeper into the quieter residential areas. Away from prying eyes, though the damage was likely already done. "Felix doesn't do anything without three contingency plans. If he was following me tonight, it's because he'd already calculated the probability of you appearing. Probably higher than I would have estimated, actually."
Serena made a frustrated sound. "So he's not just cunning. He's—"
"A master strategist with the moral compass of a shark and twice the patience," I finished. "Which means when I get home, I'm walking into a battlefield. He'll have sent those photos to Arthur already. Possibly to Eleanor too, depending on how much chaos he wants to sow."
I felt her hand on my arm before I saw it, her fingers curling around my forearm with surprising strength. "What are you going to do? I don't want you to—" She stopped, seemed to catch herself. "I mean, this is my fault. I shouldn't have—"
The concern in her voice did something to me. Something that made my chest feel too tight and my throat close up briefly before I could force the words out. I covered her hand with mine, thumb brushing across her knuckles. "What happened to being just a potential hookup? You're already worried about me?"
Her hand jerked like she'd been burned, but I didn't let go. Instead, I laced our fingers together and brought them to rest on my thigh, keeping my other hand on the wheel.
"Fuck off," she muttered, but there was no heat in it. "I'm just concerned that you're going to be too busy fighting wars on multiple fronts to have time for—" She stopped again, and I could practically hear her brain scrambling for the right words. "For recreational activities."
"Recreational activities," I repeated, unable to suppress my grin. "Is that what we're calling it now?"
"I was going to say sex," Serena admitted, and the bluntness of it sent heat pooling low in my gut. "But I thought that might be too forward."
"Too forward," I said slowly, savoring each word, "would be if you'd climbed into my lap in that restaurant and finished what you started. This?" I squeezed her hand. "This is just honest."
I felt her shiver, saw her press her thighs together in my peripheral vision. The knowledge that I could affect her this way, that underneath all her bravado and carefully constructed walls she wanted me as badly as I wanted her, was intoxicating.
"Tonight," I heard myself say, my voice dropping into a register I barely recognized. "I can make time tonight."
"No." The word came out breathier than she probably intended, but she rallied quickly. "I have work tomorrow. Early. The company isn't going to save itself."
Right. The company. Her company now, technically, though the full weight of what she'd taken on probably hadn't hit her yet.
I forced myself to focus on something other than the way her pulse was hammering in her wrist where our hands were joined. "Speaking of which—how's the company? I was planning to stop by today, but I got a bit preoccupied setting traps for jealous women."
The temperature in the car dropped several degrees.
"Oh, don't even get me started," Serena said, her voice taking on that dangerous edge I was learning meant someone was about to get eviscerated. "I closed a major deal tonight, which should have been a victory. But thanks to your darling nephew, I now need to find an additional two million on top of everything else I already owe."
My hand tightened on the wheel hard enough that my knuckles went white. "Wesley came after you again? For fuck's sake, when I get home tonight I'm going to—"
"Well, that won't be necessary." She cut me off with the kind of casual confidence that made me believe her completely. "I already handled him. And Vanessa, for that matter."
I glanced at her, genuinely surprised. "You did?"
"Thoroughly."
Despite everything, I felt myself grin. Then reality reasserted itself. "How much is the shortfall? I can have Vincent wire you—"
"No." Her response was immediate and firm. "Look, given that we're in this whole potential-fuck-buddies arrangement—" She said it so matter-of-factly that I nearly swerved. "—I'd prefer to keep our finances completely separate. You know, money has a way of corrupting the purity of a good sexual transaction."
I stared at her, my brain struggling to process what might be the most absurd logic I'd heard in my entire life. My mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. No words came out.
"What?" Serena asked innocently. "You disagree with my philosophy on maintaining professional boundaries in casual sexual relationships?"
"I—" I started, then stopped. "That's not—I mean, technically you're right, but the phrasing is—" I gave up. "You're insane."
"Maybe." She smiled, and there was something predatory in it that made my pulse spike. "But don't think that means I won't be extracting value from this arrangement."
Before I could ask what she meant, she shifted in her seat, angling toward me. Her hand landed on my chest, fingers splaying across my shirt, and I felt the heat of her palm through the fabric like a brand.
"In fact," Serena continued, her voice dropping into a register that went straight to my groin, "once I've dealt with all this tiresome business—the company, the debt, the various family disasters—" Her hand slid lower, tracing the line of my ribs, then my abdomen. "I fully intend to collect on what you owe me."
Her fingers reached my belt. Paused there. Then dropped lower still, curving over my thigh with deliberate intent before sliding back to—
Jesus Christ.
"So I suggest," she said, her hand now firmly cupping me through my slacks in a way that made coherent thought nearly impossible, "that you take very good care of yourself in the meantime. Get plenty of rest. Stay hydrated. Maybe hit the gym a few extra times." She squeezed lightly, and I nearly drove off the road. "Because when I'm ready to cash in, I'm going to take everything you've got. With interest. Compound interest."
I forced myself to breathe. To keep my eyes on the road. To not pull over immediately and show her exactly what she was playing with.
"Serena," I managed, my voice coming out strangled. "Unless you want me to pull over right now and give you a preview of exactly what you're signing up for, I suggest you move that hand."
"Maybe I want a preview."
God help me.