Page 87 of Misadventures with a Duke

“But…soon? Please, Bastien…tell me soon.”

“Perhaps,” he grates out. “But perhaps I shall make you wait for it. And beg me more for it.”

“Just as long as it’s with your dick.” I rearrange my hold, securing his nape with one hand and his huge shoulder with the other. “Please, Desperado.”

I lock down his gaze with the pleading desperation in mine. In the pit of my gut, I sense we’ve run out of time on the twenty-first century bus ride. If this is the last stop on our line, I want to be closest to the gas tank. Ready for explosion on impact.

“I even came prepared,” I offer. “I mean, just in case, right? Under the elastic at the top of my left stocking…” While I could never bring myself to take the special pill back at the North Greene, there’s still no need to spit in karma’s eye. “You’ll find—”

My own giggle, nervous and high, is my interruption as Bastien secures the condom packet. His motion is almost too slick for comfort. Funnily enough, his wavering smirk has me relaxing again. Good damn thing because wasting a second of this man’s sensuality on my stress feels like twelve kinds of a crime. Maybe more.

“You know, I might need a little help with this,” he murmurs. “Do you know of any naughty little seductresses willing to apply for the position?”

I snatch the small square package out of his fingertips. “Only if they want me to separate their pupils from their corneas.”

He snorts, but the mirth fades once I twist at one button, and then the second, at the front of his breeches. As soon as the flap falls free, so does his cock. And it’s wonderful. Swollen heat, pulsing in my hand. Needy drops at the slit, ensuring that the rubber will slide on without problem. Another good thing. The sooner this flawless penis is inside me, the better.

“Oh, Mother Porn and all her filthy minions. I should’ve known better.”

The voice, drenched with so much irritation that it’s comforting, yanks me from the task at hand. Well, in hand. I’ve only gotten the rubber halfway up Bastien’s length when he and I startle together.

Also in tandem, we stare to where Drue’s voice emanates—across a huge room that’s disconcertingly familiar.

“Oh, my hell.” I sit up straighter as recognition sets in. By a lot. The delay in my cognizance isn’t just from the reality escape that my brain just took. It’s because the last time I was here, the room was packed. We were celebrating Allie’s first signed contract with Hemline. “The Campbell,” I utter. “Oh, holy shit. We’re at Grand Central. Wait. Wait. We’re here because… The gala.” I jolt a new gawk up at Bastien. “Where we were dancing…”

Before my mind decided to mess with me…

In scary ways…

“Oh my God.”

But now, I’m not the only one dealing with baffled bewilderment. Allie’s first three words are the same as my last three. As they burst from her, the woman rushes over.

She’s dressed in a gown that’s similar to Drue’s in the bodice but styled like mine from the waist down. The lavender color, nearly her trademark by now, is adorned with small purple rosettes and a poofy satin underskirt. It all billows even more as she drops to her knees beside us.

“Baby girl. Oh, my word, are you all r—” Once her gaze sweeps down, she chokes. “Oh, you certainly are!”

I’m positive I’m a hundred shades of red, all from the neck up, despite how the equal number of gown layers are a sufficient shield for my modesty. Bastien isn’t so lucky. There he is, half-gloved and fully erect, gloriously on display for our three new guests. Fortunately, two of them are friends who’ve received enough dick pics in their lives to handle the unexpected view. And the third is a person who’s probably seen Bastien’s crotch more than me.

“And now we know he is a De Leon,” Max declares. His punctuating shoulder roll is a combination of Buffalo Bill and Steve McQueen.

“On that note, it’s time to turn off the bounce house, kids.” The creative verbiage only enhances Drue’s strictness. When she has even Max backing down, my own tension takes over again. “We’ve got to focus on ways of sneaking little Rae-Rae right out of here-here.”

“And then right to a physician,” Bastien inserts, only to be speared by a sterner look from D.

“It’s on the priority list. Just not the immediate one.”

“No. Not acceptable.” Bastien stiffens. “Do you understand that she lost consciousness in my arms? Do you understand—”

“Desperado.” I bolt to my feet now too. Though all the blood in my body recirculates in crazy directions, I push past it to bypass him and beeline for Drue. “I think we need to listen to her.” I stop and sway but tack on a silent look in the nick of time. D doesn’t say anything. “What is it?” I demand. “Is Logan—”

“No.” She pulls in a tight breath. “I mean…not yet, at least.”

“Not yet?”

“She’s trying to say we don’t know,” Allie offers. “About a half hour ago, the Hemline brass summoned Max and me for a photo op with the other network personalities. We had to walk through the area where MTA security is coordinating with the police for tonight.” She reaches for one my hand. “They were on the radio, talking to Liam Logan. About you.”

“Shit.” I mutter it at the same time that Bastien spits it in French. “So, there’s no time to waste.” I throw my gaze to Drue. “Do you think we can double back to the Greene?”