The Scotch Queen (Scotch #2)

“Trying to soften me to get your way. I told her to knock it off. I’m sick of listening to her paranoia.” I didn’t mention the part about marriage. London and I hadn’t had a conversation about our future or where our relationship stood, and I wasn’t excited to have one either.

Her hands slid down my chest to my stomach, where her fingertips gently pressed against my collared shirt. Her eyes were downcast, and she was quiet.

I knew how she felt about me, so this conversation was probably offensive. But I made it clear I didn’t share Ariel’s beliefs. “The only reason why I put up with Ariel is because she’s good at what she does. The best, actually. She’s entitled to her opinion, of course. I just get sick of listening to her criticize my sex life.”

“She’s just looking out for you.”

I raised an eyebrow, surprised London would defend her.

“That’s also her job, being honest with you even though it’ll make you angry. I know it’s annoying, but she’s loyal to you. Any criticism she gives comes from a good place. She has your back, Crewe.”

I stared at her in surprise, unable to believe that London could say something good about Ariel when Ariel had nothing but mean things to say about her. That only convinced me that Ariel was being overly paranoid. “Hungry?”

“You know the answer.”

I rose to my feet and lifted her with me, her body light as a feather. A simple conversation with her had completely flipped my mood. She was the only person capable of making the impossible happen.

I held her against my chest with her legs wrapped around my waist. My hand gripped her ass, feeling the smooth skin underneath her dress. I had an appetite just a moment ago, but now I was in the mood for something else.

Her eyes darkened like she could read my mind.

I laid her down on my desk, aroused by the stark contrast between her fair skin and the dark mahogany wood. I’d never taken any other woman in my office besides London. She was the only one to have the pleasure of infecting my entire life.

I pulled her panties off and hiked up her dress to her waist. My slacks and boxers fell to my ankles, and I positioned her ass slightly off the desk. My cock was already twitching, and I knew her pussy was wet without even checking. I shoved my dick inside her roughly, wanting to claim her as soon as possible. My eyes honed in on her reaction, watching her cheeks flush and her breathing hitch.

She gripped my wrists as I held on to her thighs. Her nails dug into my skin the harder I gripped her, and nearly silent moans escaped her lips before I even moved.

This was not just an act.

This was all real.

I knew it.





16





London

Ariel wasn’t stupid.

She was onto me.

An intelligent woman liked that noticed everything under her nose. She knew Crewe better than I did, so she knew when his behavior was out of the ordinary. She knew he was changing just the way I noticed he was changing.

But that meant my plan was working.

Crewe didn’t share Ariel’s suspicions at all.

He trusted me.

That actually made me feel terrible. Guilt overwhelmed me when it shouldn’t, and I found myself questioning the plan I’d set out. But I had to remind myself that I was a prisoner when I should be a free woman. Even if my anger had softened, that didn’t change my circumstances.

I deserved to be free.

I had to keep moving forward. Once Crewe gave me a clear sign that what we had was real, I’d finally have the courage to ask him if I could leave. I could plan another escape since the guards weren’t as suspicious anymore, but that would probably backfire. And I felt like Crewe deserved more than a breakout in the middle of the night.

If he had a heart like I thought he did, we could come to an understanding. He would let me go because he knew it was the right thing to do. Our relationship had changed so much, and we couldn’t stay this way any longer.

He cared about me.

He respected me.

He would let me go.

I knew he would.

A week went by, and Crewe was back to being in a good mood. Ariel must have dropped her argument, and they returned to their comfortable business relationship, focusing on numbers and scotch. We shared all our meals together and had amazing sex at night. It was as good as it was going to get.

Fall had set in, so it was a cool day. The sky was overcast with heavy clouds that hinted at rain, so I stayed in the royal chambers in the private living room while the fire roared in the hearth. There was a nice collection of books on the shelf, so I made my way through each one. Some of them were first editions, Scottish literature that would be worth thousands if they were taken to market. They were special antiques that filled the air with dust and time, making me feel like I was in a different century.

Crewe finished working after five and walked inside, stripping his jacket and tie by the door. “Lovely?” He called out to me when he couldn’t see me in the bedroom.

I suddenly felt like a married couple, the husband coming home and announcing his presence to his wife.

I liked it and hated it. “I’m in here.”

Crewe walked in as he unbuttoned his white collared shirt. He didn’t smile when he stood near the couch and looked at me. He stared at me with an expression I’d become used to. It was nothing but intensity, the way he showed he was excited to see me.

My heart still fluttered just as it did the first time he did it. I wished it wouldn’t, but I couldn’t control all the impulses my body made. I shut the book and rested it on my lap. “Get a lot of work done today?”

“Some.” His shirt was open, showing his perfectly chiseled physique. “Not as much as I would like.”

“Maybe you need to hire another Ariel.”

“I would if such a person existed.” He stripped off his shirt and tossed it on the armrest of the couch.

I tried not to stare at his glorious body, but that was nearly impossible to do. He was the sexiest man I knew for a reason. He was all muscle and skin, not an inch of fat anywhere. He had nice, toned arms, his muscles defined and powerful. I liked seeing him undress the second he came into the bedroom. He usually stripped down to his boxers and sometimes threw sweat pants on. I didn’t even realize I was biting my bottom lip until the light pressure became uncomfortable.

He slid his belt out of the loops then folded it in half. When he yanked on both sides, the leather smacked together and made a noticeable crack.

He hadn’t spanked me in a long time. Kinda missed it.

His pants and shoes came next before he sat beside me on the couch, glorious in just his boxers. His arm rested over the back of the couch, and he stared at the fire as the sun disappeared from the windows. It was nearly dark.

His hand moved to the back of my head, and he gently touched my hair, what he usually did when he was sitting beside me.

I felt the bumps sprinkle across my arms. I didn’t know if I was nervous about the fact that I was playing him or if it was because I actually felt something. The intensity of the emotions made it impossible to differentiate.

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