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I squirm in my seat. “You do realize neither one of those things is an actual punishment, right?”

Kingston’s a big fan of going downtown, and I don’t exactly mind returning the favor.

His shoulders lift. “Bragging rights.”

I shake my head, fighting a smile. “You’re an idiot.”

“Maybe.” He grins. “But I’d bet this two-point-five-million dollar car that your pussy is soaked right now just thinking about it. Shall I check?”

I flip him off in reply, but what I really want to do is pull my panties down and shove his face between my legs.

Kingston unfastens his seat belt and leans over the center console to lift my chin. “You feel better?”

My eyes drift shut when he pulls my lower lip between his teeth. “Yeah.”

I don’t know how this man can always sense what I need. He sees me like no one else can. Whether it’s tempting me with his body because he knows I need a physical release, or picking a stupid fight because it allows me to vent the frustrations running through my head, or playfully teasing me because I could use a good laugh, Kingston just knows. The funny thing is, I don’t think he even tries. He’s so attuned to me, it’s pure instinct.

Lately, it seems as if my soul is colored in every shade of gray. Kingston understands that better than anyone because the same war is waging inside of him. If I believed in fairy tales, I’d say we were fated for one another. Like, maybe everything has happened for a reason, and we were meant to fall back into each other’s lives at precisely the same moment in time. But then again, I’m not exactly a rescue-me-from-a-tower kind of girl, and Kingston Davenport is certainly no prince.

“You ready to do this?”

I take a fortifying breath. “Let’s get this shitshow on the road.”

CHAPTER TWO

JAZZ

Hundreds of eyes track us as Kingston and I walk into the lavishly decorated ballroom. Geez, I feel like I just stepped into a wedding reception, not a holiday dinner. The entire space is filled with round tables dressed in crisp white tablecloths, although most guests are standing around, mingling. Like Kingston promised, there’s a decent amount of guests in our age bracket, and every single one of them looks bored out of their minds. Can’t say I blame them.

A long, rectangular table sits toward the back of the room—I’m guessing it’s reserved for the Davenports and Callahans—complete with a few tall floral arrangements. Crystal chandeliers are glinting off the crystal goblets below while waitstaff are making their rounds, offering hors d’oeuvres and flutes of champagne. I grab a glass of bubbly from a nearby waiter and down half of it in one go. I’m not stupid enough to get drunk at this thing, but I need something to take the edge off. It’s either this, or sex in a coat closet, and I don’t think Kingston and I could get away with option número dos.

“Why are they all staring at us?” I whisper, stifling the urge to lift my middle finger in the air.

Kingston’s fingertips press into my spine as he guides me to the right. “They’re all staring at you, princess. You’re the sexiest belle of the ball.”

“It’s the dress.”

I surreptitiously scan the room, seeing if anyone triggers my perv-o-meter.

Kingston chuckles. “It’s not the dress, Jazz, although it is hot as fuck.”

My eyes narrow when I spot some politician-looking dude eyeing me like I’m a big, juicy ribeye. “Regardless, this is the last place I want to draw attention to myself.”

He laces our fingers together. “I know, but it would’ve happened no matter how you were dressed. Charles Callahan’s long-lost daughter is big news in this circle.”

“If that’s true, these people need to get a life.”

“I won’t argue with you there.” Kingston points his finger. “There’s Ains.”

My eyes follow Kingston’s finger to find his twin standing next to Reed. Ainsley looks absolutely gorgeous in her dark green one-shoulder gown. Its layered c

hiffon falls to the floor, and the color brings out the green in her eyes, really making them pop. For a little extra flair, there’s a dramatic slit up the front, showcasing her toned dancer’s legs. It’s sexy, yet classy, which suits her perfectly.

“Wow. You look incredible, Ains.”

Ainsley smiles as Reed wraps his arm around her. “Thanks, Jazz. You, too. That dress is... wow.”

A low whistle sounds from behind me right before I hear the familiar voice.


Tags: Laura Lee Windsor Academy Romance