Page 151 of Double or Nothing

I’ll tell them after dinner. After we’ve enjoyed the toastie maker debut.

No, before that.

After the first toastie. Just one.

Perhaps after a drink.

No. Definitely before alcohol. This deserves clarity.

But some champagne will make it easier. Less of a rock to swallow…

I enter the key code and take the lift to the penthouse, clutching the food bag in one hand and my laptop case in the other.

When I walk along the corridor, I notice Jack’s front door is already ajar.

Weird.

I nudge it with my shoe. “Hello?”

Nothing.

I step inside, and jump out of my skin when the door slams behind me.

My laptop case hits the floor along with the cheese as Jack catches me against the wall

“Boo!”

His laugh is a lightning bolt.

His mouth lands on mine before I can speak.

No greeting. No warning. Just joker Jack, with his impossible confidence, hands gripping my jacket as though I’ve been gone for months rather than a day.

The shock lasts half a second before I kiss him back.

Christ, I need this.

I need his mouth, his laughter, his chaotic apartment, his absolute refusal to let fear enter a room without challenging it to a fight. I need to forget Bill’s voice and Christopher’s arrival and the nine-day clock ticking inside my skull.

Jack pulls back just enough to grin at me.

“Toastique Pro,” he says. “Wow. What a treasure.”

I’m breathless. “Hello to you, too.”

He runs his hands down the lapels of my jacket.

“Automatic artisan-bread calibration.”

“I thought you’d appreciate that.”

“Triple-zone melt control. Delicious.”

I can’t hold back the grin as his hand palms my cock through my suit trousers.

“You read the box, then.”

He presses another kiss to my mouth, unbuckling my belt.