The Devil has a British Accent: Cary (White Carpet #2) by Z.N. Willett

Author:Z.N. Willett [Willett, Z.N.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781091835627
Amazon: B07NT2NK6D
Goodreads: 46065570
Publisher: Independently Published
Published: 2019-05-16T23:00:00+00:00

Feeling his familiar touch, my body betrayed me with pebbled bumps, and I heard him proudly chuckle to himself. I hated he was so cocky.

No, you don’t.

I told my heart to shut the heck up. I had enough problems. One being his hands felt too good and familiar at that moment.

“Jackson, I would be surprised, but since your legions of fans are out front with your photo, it all fits.”

“I see my legions got to you first. How did it feel?” he whispered in my ear, placing a light kiss on the outside. To anyone watching, it would look like an innocent exchange, but I knew better as his tongue darted out before leaning back.

“Do you mean signing over your face?” I breathed out. “It felt fine.” I smiled to myself.

He walked around to face me. “How does it feel to be famous?”

“Jackson, I am far from famous, no thanks to you. I think this is going to be the first and last time I’m asked for my autograph.”

He cracked a devilish smile while his eyes perused over me. “You look amazing, Lauren. No wonder every eye is on you.”

I glanced over at a few eyes wondering in our direction. “You’re exaggerating, and I think it’s because you’re talking to me. Where’s Zara?”

“She went to sit down. She can barely stand in her shoes, and we’re presenting tonight.”

I never thought about the fact they would be presenting.

“Please tell her hello from me.” I grabbed my drink and started to walk away.

“Baby…”

I turned around and saw Jackson staring at me as if I took something precious away from him.

“Jackson, what is it?”

“We haven’t seen each other since Paris, and this is the greeting I get?”

I looked around. “What am I supposed to say? We’re surrounded by people, and I didn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea.”

“That’s a little too late, Lauren.” He laughed. “Everyone knows about us… well, that we are—we’re friends.”

“Aah, friends?”

“Friends with benefits,” he said.

“You wish.”

We stood there, smiling at each other. He really did look good. He had on a blue and black, funky cut blazer with black jeans and combat boots; his sexy crooked smile lightened up his face. For a moment, I forgot he was a demon and only saw the man who kissed me under the Parisian night sky. I wasn’t sure how long I was reminiscing, but the look on Jackson’s face said he knew.

“You miss me, don’t you?” He swept his index finger over my collar bone.

I had pushed all thoughts of Jackson away. I knew I made the right decision—the only decision, yet he always seemed to awaken something inside.

“Jackson… we can’t do this here.”

“I think about you every day, Baby—”

I shook my head. “Jackson, you can’t—”

“I told you before, I will not give up.”

He traced his finger down my bare shoulder to my hand and squeezed. He then leaned in, placing a warm kiss on my cheek before walking away. My skin quivered, and I could feel the layer of control slipping.

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