Did the princess have a problem with the maintenance guy being tatted up? Her words put an end to my wondering immediately, as did the fingertips that ran over the ink.
“Oh wow. I didn’t know you had tattoos. I want one, but I’m not quite ready to make it happen.”
Memories of that night play through my head as I listen to the two women. There’s definitely a difference between then and now. Tonight, eyes are on me for a different reason—not because I don’t belong with Greer, but because she and I are equally matched. I belong in her world in a way I never did before.
Now I just have to convince her of that.
One thing hasn’t changed—Greer is still completely oblivious to the reasons for the looks she gets. She thinks it’s because of the notoriety of the ad, but that’s not it. At least, not completely. She’s got no clue that she’s the total package.
It blows my mind that her boyfriend would cheat. Definitely missing brain cells, but I owe him a thank-you. If not for that, she might never have placed the ad, and I wouldn’t have gotten the signal loud and clear that my second chance had arrived.
“You’re gonna take good care of my girl now, aren’t you? Make sure she gets home?” Banner’s words slur together as she climbs out of the car driven by Greer’s driver, Ed.
“I’ve got it covered.”
As Banner stumbles toward the door, I tell the driver, “Would you follow her up to her apartment and make sure she gets inside?”
Ed’s already climbing out of the car. “Of course, sir.”
Greer snuggles into me as the door shuts. “That was a good idea.”
“Can’t be too careful.”
I watch through the large windows in the lobby as Banner grabs Ed’s arm and allows him to lead her into the elevator as she waves to the doorman.
“How drunk are you, Greer?” I pull her onto my lap sideways and stare into her shining brown eyes.
“Drunk enough but not too drunk. I’m perfect.” Her words aren’t as slurred as Banner’s, but she’s beyond tipsy.
“Which means?”
“I’m drunk enough to want you to take me back to my apartment and do dirty things to me, but not too drunk to enjoy it.”
My cock, already hardening against her curvy ass, pulses.
“You sure you can handle what I want from you, Greer?”
She reaches up and curves her hand around my head. “I think the real question is whether you can handle what I want from you.”
“Anything you want, I’m your man.”
She tugs at the short hair at the back. “Anything?”
At this point in my life, I’m closer to being able to give her anything than I’ve ever been before. And when she looks at me like this, there’s nothing I could deny her.
“Yeah, baby. Anything.”
She wiggles her ass in my lap and presses her lips to my jaw. If I kiss her right now, there’s a good chance that I’m going to fuck her in the backseat of this car, and that’s not something I’m willing to have an audience for. Especially not her driver, who is just about to pull open the door.
Thank fuck we’re only ten minutes from her building.
“Can you make it quick, Ed?”
“Of course, sir.”
Ed, the trusty driver, looks at me with Greer on my lap in the rearview mirror. I see the look of judgment before he schools his expression. Big Brother is probably going to be receiving a full report as soon as Ed drops us off.
I may not have all the money Creighton Karas does, but I’m not opposed to going toe-to-toe with the guy. Or I could just kidnap Greer and take her away to some remote island and keep her there until she’s as addicted to me as I am to her, and her brother’s opinion ceases to matter. As far as I know, she never told him about me before, because I never received a death threat from his camp.
We pull up in front of the building, and Ed hops out and opens the door. I slide out of the car, lifting Greer as I stand, readjusting her in my arms.
Her quick intake of breath signals her surprise. She grips my shoulders tighter, her gaze clashing with mine.
“I’m not gonna let you fall.”
“I can walk. I’m not that drunk.” Her protest is quiet and halfhearted at best.
“And I want you in my arms, so I’m carrying you.” I nod at Ed, who is watching us with eagle eyes. “Good night, sir. Thank you for the ride.”
“Of course, Mr. Westman. Have a good evening.”
I can tell he wants to tell me something else, probably to warn me that I’d better take good care of Greer, but he stays silent.
He doesn’t need to worry. I’m not going to let anything happen to her. I’m capable of protecting her at least as well as he is, and probably better. After all, I’ve got more than money and fear of Creighton Karas motivating me.
Greer waves to the doorman as we head inside. His polite chin raise gives away none of his true thoughts about watching me carry her through the foyer. For a moment, I wonder if this is something he’s seen before, or if he’s really that good at hiding his shock.
“You get carried up to your apartment a lot?”
Greer’s laugh is muffled by my shirt as I elbow the call button for the elevator. “Nope. This is a first for me. I don’t think Tristan could’ve actually picked me up. Maybe that’s why he was always encouraging me to lose weight.”
I already wanted to fuck up this Tristan punk, but even more so now at Greer’s confession.
“Was he mentally defective? What the fuck was the guy’s problem?”