Hold Me - Anne Marsh Page 0,7

death stare, her gray eyes holding mine. They’re rapidly acquiring a suspiciously wet sheen, as if when she blinks, she’s going to cry, which means I really need to roll on out of here. I’m no good with crying girls, so someone else is going to have to pick up her pieces. My sister claims this is a character flaw I should work on, but I don’t come with emotional radar and it’s not something my money can buy. I defend, I protect, and I boss the fuck out of people for their own good. This works in the bedroom as well as the boardroom, so I see no point in changing.

Circus Girl makes a face that twists her pretty mouth up. “Other than being unemployed yet again? Yeah.”

I could fix that, but handing out jobs tends to make people think there are strings attached. Worse, sometimes they want the strings, and bosses in bedrooms get messy. So I hesitate, not sure what to say.

Circus Girl barrels on, undeterred by my silence. “I’m Peony.”

She shoves her hand at me and I take it automatically. My fingers dwarf hers and I actually wonder for a second if I could accidentally break her just by holding her hand. That moment of stupidity has to be why I raise the back of her hand to my lips like a prince or a royal fool. I don’t miss the way her breath catches when my lips brush her fingers.

“Jax Valentine.” I stroke my thumb over the back of her fingers and force myself to let go. I’m not the same kind of asshole as her ex-boss.

I wait for her to realize who I am. It’ll change things between us, and I’m almost irritated anticipating it. As one of Silicon Valley’s hottest billionaire bachelors, these parties are full of guests who’d like to get a piece of me. It’s strangely impersonal, as if my dick or my head is merely an accessory to my money.

“Well, Mr. Valentine, what brings you here tonight?”

I lean in, closing the distance between us. “Sex, of course.”

She worries her bottom lip with her teeth, as if my statement requires great thought. But there’s not all that much to think about, is there? The whole point of a sex party is to have casual sex with strangers. It’s like picking a movie: seen that one, am I in the mood for dark angst, something rough, something hot and sweet and fun? I run my thumb over her bottom lip, trying to convince myself it doesn’t matter if she turns me down. As if this is totally casual and completely impersonal.

All I can think about is touching her.

The corner of her mouth curves up beneath my thumb, and I need to know what she’s thinking. Peony makes me curious. I’d been close to her when I removed her from Martin’s hold, but this feels different. We’re two people—two consenting adults—at a sex party together. My shoulder brushes hers and she relaxes against me.

“Giving, receiving or policing?” Gray eyes laugh at me. No, with me, inviting me to play.

I tug gently on her hair. “Policing?”

She nods, ponytails bouncing on her shoulders. “When you came over here, I thought you looked like security and maybe I was in trouble.”

She had been in trouble, all right, but I don’t think that’s what she means.

“Your ex-boss needs to understand that no means no. You okay?”

I’m good at punching assholes and I’m even better at running them out of Silicon Valley, but I really hope she’s fine. I suck at the emotional comfort and moral support shit.

“I don’t want to think about Martin right now,” she says, as if she can read my mind. “Let’s pretend it didn’t happen.”

“We could absolutely pretend something else,” I hear myself offer.

She hesitates, and I want to pull her into me, wrap my arms around her and make promises. We’ll do whatever you want.

She bites her lower lip again. “Are you...the good cop?”

I rub my thumb over the soft skin. “I’d love to be.”

She peeps up at me through ridiculously long lashes. “Well, Officer, I may have been a very bad girl.”

Thank fuck.

I flow to my feet, tugging her with me. Exhibitionism’s not really my thing, although I’d be willing to give it a go if it’s hers. There’s a pool cabana tucked away nearby and, conveniently, I know Liam’s passcode. She lets me steer her away from the party, into the shadows and down a gravel path made from some