God, I’m a fool.
It’s almost laughable I was concerned he would want to date. Travis Warner is a predator. He’s been circling me, playing, and taking his pleasure. When he’s done, I’ll be a carcass lying on the ground in pieces.
He doesn’t want me, he wants my body.
I should walk away.
I should cancel the weekend.
I don’t know if I’m strong enough to pretend I don’t feel anything for the gorgeous billionaire.
Lying back down, my hand slides between my legs, cupping my swollen sex as I close my eyes.
I’m not going to cancel.
I lie and tell myself it’s for the story, but it’s not. It’s so I can have a whole weekend with him before we both walk away.Because I’m almost certain of one thing: Travis will lose interest in me very soon.
The past dictates the future, and this man has never been involved with anyone.
In the meantime, I need to honor those who have trusted me with their confidence and stop Leo Taylor getting hispotentiallyunworthy star on the Walk of Fame.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
TRAVIS
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With my hand on Brook’s thigh in the back of the car, sunglasses down over my eyes and my sleeves rolled up my forearms, we head to the private airfield.
I’ve never taken a woman away for a weekend. Then again, I’ve never fucked a woman and claimed her soul like I’m a bloodthirsty goddamn vampire or something.
When I got home the other night, I couldn’t stop pacing my living room, so I texted Killian telling him it was urgent.
He arrived ten minutes later.
“What’s going on?” he asked, tossing his jacket over the back of my sofa and crossing his arms.
Glancing around the room, he searched for the emergency while I strode to the bar and poured him a Macallan.
“I think something is wrong with me.”
He sat after taking the crystal glass and waited for me to explain.
I couldn’t find the words. Hell, I wasn’t sure myself what was going on. So I began pacing, stopping once or twice to sip my whisky.
“Am I meant to guess? No pressure, but you said it was urgent.”
My eyes find his across the room and lock as if this is life or death. It might be.
“It is fucking urgent. I could be having a delayed psychotic breakdown or...fuck, maybe I had a heart attack and didn’t know. It could be medical.”
He shifted to the edge of his seat, his brows bunching. “Do we need to go to the emergency room?”
“What?” I shook my head. “No. Maybe.”
Realizing I was losing the plot, I sat in my armchair and held the crystal glass in two hands, leaning forward. “I just fucked Brooklyn.”
Killian squinted in confusion. “Um, congratulations. No offense, but we all figured you were. Or had.”
