I climbed out from under the desk and turned to glower at the two of them. "How did you know?"

  "Don't you remember that epic game of hide and seek all over campus?” Morgan turned to Lance. “Gwen hid under the headmaster's desk. We couldn't find her for hours."

  "Fine," I said, dusting myself off. “Are you both happy now?”

  Neither one of them was fazed by my lack of enthusiasm one bit. Morgan skipped from foot to foot, and Lance just grinned like an idiot.

  "I hate you both."

  My sister just laughed. "It's your birthday. You should celebrate it. You know how I feel about this."

  "Why do people do this to me? I swear, it's like you don't know me."

  In one of the few shows of solidarity between them, they both said in a singsong voice, "Because we love you."

  "You know I don't like celebrating."

  Lance sighed. "I know. But it's important. This is a big deal. Twenty-five."

  "Yeah, just that much closer to thirty. Woohoo."

  Morgan did a flourishing gesture toward the cake. Chocolate cake with white frosting had been our favorite cake to bake with Mom. But this looked like a super birthday version. There were strawberries and other fruits piled on top, as well as rose petals. "Oh, you dressed this one up."

  "Of course. It's a special occasion. Oh, and I added a little rose water infusion to the cake, and I added a strawberry layer."

  "Okay, now you're just showing off."

  My sister gave a happy little twirl. "Well, cake is my love language. I don't like to bake anything else, but there's something about making someone a very specific cake that makes me happy."

  "I do appreciate you."

  "Oh, and there's a gummy bear surprise."

  I lifted a brow. "What?"

  "Yeah. I had to cut out the middle after the cakes were cooled then ice them and plug the middle back up again. I'm pretty proud of that feature.”

  "Wow, this cake is perfect for me. Thanks, Morgan."

  She leaned her slender body into mine, squeezing me tight. "You were avoiding me. Sisters don't avoid sisters."

  "I'm not avoiding you,” I lied. “I'm just busy. But we shall celebrate this weekend. It's not ideal, but we've got this merger to deal with right now. But we're doing brunch with Clarissa, right? And then we'll do some shopping after. A little retail therapy. I deserve to buy myself something fabulous."

  "Yes. And I deserve to watch you buy something fabulous."

  "Is this you asking for a present too?"

  She shook her head. "Nah, I want to watch you enjoy it.”

  I squeezed my sister’s hand. "I will. I promise.”

  “Now, if you don't mind, I need to go get ready for a date. I just wanted to make sure you had cake first.”

  “Thanks, Morgan. I appreciate you making it specially for me.”

  “What are sisters for?”

  She punched Lance on the shoulder and blew me an air kiss and was gone. Like a little cake fairy godmother.

  When my sister left, Lance caught the full brunt of my ire. "Lance, you really should know better."

  He gave me an impish grin. "What? I tried to help with the singing. And she twisted my arm. She's surprisingly strong."

  "Right. For someone who claims not to like my little sister, you let her talk you into a lot of shit."

  “Well, she’s part of the package. So sometimes, if it's going to benefit you, I need to let her talk me into stuff.”

  “Sure. Whatever you say.”

  “And look, before you try and weasel out of our birthday drinks tradition, I know you have a shit ton of work to do, so I'm willing to postpone until Sunday.”

  I sagged in relief. “Honestly, I don't think I deserve you.”

  His eyes went soft as he searched my face. “You deserve better, but you're stuck with me. How are you going to get away from your minder?"

  I rolled my eyes. "He's not my minder."

  "He looks like your minder. Dark, brooding, disapproving. I felt like I was trying to impress your dad."

  I wrinkled my nose. “Can we please not say the D word right now?”

  He pressed his lips together in irritation. “Let me guess, he didn't wish you happy birthday today.”

  I shook my head and toed the carpet with my stocking-clad foot, having ditched my shoes hours earlier. “It's fine. He doesn't matter.”

  “No, he doesn't. Because you have me.”

  "Thanks, Lance. That means a lot."

  “Let me get a piece of cake, then I’ll get out of your hair,” he said. “On Sunday, we’ll do drinks then we're having our marathon."

  "Yes. We're starting with the Van Damme movies." During my junior year of college, my boyfriend Michael had missed my birthday because he was traveling to see his parents, so Lance had cheered me up by bringing me vodka, mixers, and really bad action movies. That had to be one of my best birthdays ever. It had become sort of a standing tradition after that.

  "You are surprisingly bloodthirsty,” he laughed.

  I shrugged. "What can I say?"

  "Your thirst for blood is probably why I fell in love with you in the first place."

  He said it like a joke. Like he always did. Except this time, it didn't feel really as much like a joke. An odd tension swirled around us, and I could see the thing that I tried to never look too hard at. Lance was gorgeous with his sandy brown hair, perpetual stubble, and soulful brown eyes. I should have wanted him, except we’d always been friends. And I needed our friendship.

  Maybe too much.

  "That should be a Van Damme title. Hard to love."

  He gave me one of his easy smiles, and suddenly that awkward discomfort was gone.

  At the door, he leaned in and hugged me just like usual, squeezing me tight, wrapping me in warmth and comfort, and I squeezed him back.

  "Happy birthday. Please, go home and relax, would you?"

  “Oh, don’t worry. I plan on making her do exactly that.”

  Chapter 23

  Gwen

  I released Lance automatically, but he didn’t let me go.

  Atticus scowled at Lance’s arm that still hung around my shoulders. "Hands off my wife."

  Lance apparently had a death wish, because while he let me go, he turned to face Atticus, crossing his arms in front of him, blocking Atticus from my view. "She’s not your wife, yet."

  I swallowed hard and tried to push Lance out of the way, but he wouldn’t budge.

  Atticus’s eyes narrowed, and I could see the barely leashed control in the tension of his shoulders. I knew he was seconds away from exploding, and I didn't want to witness the aftermath.

  Atticus stepped closer, his eyes on Lance, "I suggest you walk away, Lakewood." There was an edge to his voice that made me shiver.

  We were not having this pissing contest on my fucking birthday. “That’s enough, Atticus. Lance and Morgan just came by to wish me a happy birthday.”

  But neither of them was listening to me.

  Lance smirked. "Is that a threat, Price?"

  Atticus didn't answer. Instead, he stepped even closer to Lance, and the tension crackled around us, spitting out little spikes of electricity. It was like watching two animals circling each other, waiting to see who would make the first move.

  Fuck that. I still had work to do, and it was going to be tough getting blood out of this carpet.

  "Lance, it’s okay. I’m fine. I’ll see you later."

  Atticus's voice was low and menacing. “That’s right. Off you go, Lance.”

  Lance smirked, looking back at me. "I’ll see you Sunday," he said as he brushed past Atticus and sauntered lazily down the hallway.

  I only let out a shaky breath when he reached the elevators. But as I turned to face Atticus, I froze at the look in his eyes. It was a mix of anger, lust, and possessiveness that made my heart race.

  “You didn’t have any right to talk to him like that, Atticus.”

  “Didn’t I? I thought I was clear, Gwen. I’m not tolerating any relationship.”

  I jabbed a finger in his chest. “And for the tenth time, it’s not like that. He’s my best friend, and he and Morgan brought me a birthday cake.” I gestured at my desk, showing him the evidence of his overreaction.

  His brows snapped down. “It’s your birthday?”

  What was that tone? There was no way he was feeling hurt.

  “Yes. I don’t like to celebrate it, but Lance and Morgan have no chill.”

  “You didn’t tell me.”

  “Like I said, these days I don’t want all the fanfare.”

  “But it’s your birthday. There should be fanfare. We could throw⁠—”

  I stopped him in his tracks, seeing where this was going. “I do not want a party full of your business associates with me feeling uncomfortable and making small talk. That wouldn’t be fun for me.”

  “Well, we should do something together.”

  “Remember what I said earlier about not wanting fanfare?”

  “But Lakewood gets to break that rule?” he asked.

  “What is your problem with him anyway?”

  I didn’t expect his answer or how raw and unfiltered it was when he said, “Watching him touch you and knowing you let him celebrate your birthday makes me want to rip him to pieces.” Each word was punctuated with a step toward me. “Knowing you let him in at all is enough to drive me fucking batshit.”

  “Well, that’s not my⁠—”

  His wintergreen eyes focused intently on mine. “He had his fucking hands on what’s mine.”

  Before I knew it, Atticus had me pressed up against the wall, his hands roaming over my body. "Mine," he growled before his hand gently encased my neck and his lips crashed down on mine.

  I moaned, my body responding to his touch despite the fear in my mind.

  His lips moved to my jaw, nipping and biting as he kissed his way down my neck. "Mine," he repeated, his mouth on my collarbone.

  His hands slipped under my skirt, and he groaned softly against my skin. He pressed his lips to my stomach, and I could feel his hands on my thighs, making their way up. His fingers hit the lace band of my panties and he growled, “Mine,” as he stroked a knuckle over my panty-clad center.

  I was completely at his mercy, and I hated it.

  Liar.

  With my blouse unbuttoned, he pushed it off my shoulders, exposing my bra. And before I knew what happened, he dragged his lips from mine and unsnapped my bra with one hand.

  His gaze went hooded as he licked his bottom lip. "I fucking love these." He pushed my breasts together and wrapped them in his big hands. "I can't wait to fuck these with my cock." His voice was low and husky, and his words elicited a shudder from my body.

  I whimpered, wanting him to touch me while simultaneously wanting to push him away.

  "I want to taste them," he growled as fire sparked in his eyes.

  When his mouth found my nipple, I gasped and dug my hands into his hair as he began to suck the hard nub. His tongue swirled around and around, gently laving the sensitive flesh.

  I gasped, my back arching and my nipples hardening. I should be pushing him away. This was so far beyond any public kisses for show. This was all for me.

  Atticus's hand found my other nipple, and he pinched it gently between his fingers. The feeling was exquisite, and I couldn't help but moan.

  "Atticus, please," I begged, sinking one of my hands into his hair. He made his way to my other breast, and I couldn't help but whimper with need.

  "Please what, Ness?" he asked, gently grazing my nipple. I cried out, the sensation overwhelming as he continued to tease my skin.

  "I need you," I moaned, bucking my hips against him, hoping to relieve some of the tension.

  "In what way?" he asked, softly trailing his tongue down my belly.

  I couldn't even answer him as his strong hands gripped the back of my thighs and he lifted me easily off the floor. All I could do was grip his shoulders tight as he carried me over to my desk and seated me on the edge of it.

  Holy shit.

  He reached behind me, and when he brought his hand back, he smeared icing on my nipples.

  The way he watched the rise and fall of my peaked tips with every breath I took was enough to make my knees week. But when he took the left one into his mouth, I cried out, the spear of need making me desperate.

  He knew what he was doing to me, but he took his time, taking each of my nipples into his mouth, sucking them greedily.

  I moaned, as my head fell back.

  His mouth slowly traveled lower and lower, stopping at my belly button to lift his head and watch me.

  His gaze did not leave mine as he licked his fingers. The sight of his tongue drawing his fingers into his mouth made me shiver.

  "I can taste you a little. Your flavor is mixed with the frosting. You taste so sweet, Gwenyth," he murmured.

  This was it. This was how I was going to die. Spontaneous combustion at the hands of Atticus Price.

  His hands drifted to the side zipper on my skirt, and he made quick work of getting it down, leaving me in my stockings, garters, and panties.

  “Fuck me. Is this what you've been wearing under all your clothes?”

  I nodded frantically, all semblance of resistance gone out the window. At this point, he could ask me anything, and I would give him whatever answers he wanted just to keep his mouth on me.

  "Easy, baby. Not so fast." He released my nipple, and I whimpered in protest. He moved his mouth to the other one and sucked, his fingers still teasing me through my panties.

  I was throbbing with need, and I knew that if he kept doing what he was doing, I would come.

  "Wait, Atticus."

  He released my nipple with a pop and dragged his gaze up to mine. "You want me to stop?"

  My gaze searched his. His pupils were completely dilated, and his gaze was hooded and lazy. His lips were swollen too.

  "I—"

  The safe thing was to say yes. Run away. But I couldn't. My body just wouldn't accept the idea. "Please don't stop.”

  He was like a drug, and one taste was enough to get me hooked. He suddenly stopped, and I whimpered in need, my hips bucking against him. "Please, Atticus."

  "What do you want me to do to you, baby?"

  I panted as I tried to gather my thoughts. His hand had slipped into my panties, and I was very aware of the fact that he was teasing my clit. I had never been this turned on before.

  He knelt down to the floor, holding my legs apart as he kissed my inner thigh. He was inches away from my soaked panties, and I could feel his hot breath through the fabric as I squirmed against him.

  He nipped at my panties, and I let out a small cry. I felt my cheeks flush and my cunt drizzle.

  He chuckled softly, "Fuck, you smell good, Gwen. You smell so fucking good." He looked up at me with a devilish smile and his fingers hooked the edge of my panties.

  Atticus's lips reached my pussy, and he kissed me right above my mound. He spread my lips open, and I could feel the air touch my wet folds. He looked up at me, his eyes fiery with lust.

  "Spread your legs for me, Gwenyth," Atticus growled, and I was too far gone to protest.

  I whimpered at the feel of his warm breath on me. My mind protested, but my body absolutely loved it, and I whimpered again, my legs parting for him.

  "You're glistening for me. Fucking soaked,” he murmured, his voice deep and husky. "I can't wait to get my mouth on you."

  Teasing me, he slid a finger under the elastic of my panties and stroked it through my slick heat.

  "Atticus," I cried out. At this point I wasn't above begging.

  "That's it, Ness. My lioness wants to give me that needy pussy?"

  The wash of embarrassment had me trying to clamp my legs closed, but his damn shoulders wouldn't allow it. All I managed was to buck my hips toward him.

  "Please, Atticus," I begged. Yep, we really were begging now.

  "I like the sound of that. I like that you know what you want. And I want to give it to you. But not yet."

  He pulled his hand from my panties, and I whimpered again. He pushed me back and quickly undid my garters and pulled my stockings down and off.

  "You look so fucking sexy in your little panties."

  His fingers slid back between my thighs, and I moaned loudly when he slid one under my panties and stroked through my slick folds again.

  I cried out as he slid the tip of his finger into my entrance. "Fuck, you're tight," he murmured. "Please, Ness, relax for me. Let me make you feel good."

  I was too far gone to hear him. His finger was doing extraordinary things to my body, and I couldn't think about anything but getting more.

  "I love the way you open up for me," Atticus growled.

  I moaned, rocking my hips against his hand. "Please,” I begged.

  But instead of giving me what I wanted, he stopped and pulled back, bringing his finger to his lips and licking it clean. "Mm, you taste so good. I can't get enough of you, Gwen."

  It was only then that I realized he was still fully clothed, and I was spread open before him.

  "I want to taste you,” he murmured, his voice deep and husky, “I need to taste you.”

  I shivered at his words and at the loss of his finger. I was so close to coming, and I knew he knew it.

  “I want to taste you,” he murmured again. “Will you let me?"

  I nodded quickly, and he wrapped his fingers around the delicate fabric, twisted, then ripped. "Oh my God."

  The look in his eyes was pure desire, and the control I'd seen from him so far was nowhere to be found.

  He slid me to the edge of the desk, and his hands found my thighs again.

  "Spread your legs for me, Ness. Spread your legs and let me see you."

  I whimpered as I did as I was told.

  The way he looked at me, like I was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, made me feel sexy. Powerful.

  Atticus brought his mouth to my entrance, and I groaned loudly at the first swipe of his tongue.

  He growled as he licked at my slick folds. "You taste like sugar, sweetness. I can't get enough of you."

  He licked up my slit again, then sucked my clit into his mouth, swirling his tongue over it.