She’s asleep, but I hope to feckin’ hell last night meant something to her. I can’t recall the number of women I’ve fucked in my life, but never have I lost myself in one like I did Laken Cavanaugh. I watched her. I drowned in her. I wanted to bury myself inside her and never leave. After fucking her against the door, I carried her to her bed and spent the entire night loving her body with my cock, my tongue, my fingers…hell, anything I could touch her with. As I whispered what I wanted to do to her in her ear, I willed her to read between the lines to hear what wasn’t in my voice but what was in my heart. To see that this wasn’t just a one-night stand for me.
“I want to taste you all night.”
I want you forever.
“You’re so wet for me.”
You’re the one I’ve waited for all my life.
“I want you so much.”
I think I might love you.
I hope she felt it in the way I made love to her that I don’t want her for just one night. I want her and Preston forever.
We fucked all night and early into the morning. Even when she fell asleep, I stayed awake and watched her sleep, knowing I’d dipped a toe into unknown waters I had no idea how to navigate my way through.
And now, in the early morning, I know screwed doesn’t begin to cover what I am. Unable to take the rejection I know is coming, I give her one last kiss behind her ear and slip out of bed before she can give me the speech I dread hearing.
As I close the front door to her apartment, for the first time since uttering the phrase to Gloria that started this whole mess in the conference room of Trask and Payne, I wonder if I can pull this off tonight, or when it’s all over, I’ll lose my job, Sophie’s future, and most importantly, the woman I don’t think I can live without.
I’ve heard the phrase “take my breath away,” but I’ve never experienced it until I arrive outside Laken’s apartment dressed in my tuxedo and stand anxiously waiting for her to open the door. The minute I see her wearing what can only be described as floor-length satin sin, the phrase makes more sense than anything ever has in my life. She still looks beautiful, but there’s an edge to her tonight that borders on seductress.
The dress seems modest in the front, with a thick tie that wraps around her neck and dips low enough in the front to show off her ample assets, but not scandalous enough to seem suggestive. It melts into a body-hugging turquoise satin number that pools at her feet with a thigh-high split that allows a hint of her leg to peek through when she walks. However, that’s where the demureness ends. The minute she turns around, I have no doubt that dicks everywhere will salute her, thanking God that she walks the Earth. The entire back of the dress is bare, the base of the material resting at the top of her arse and barely hugging the sides of her breasts. The skin of her shoulders and back are coated in some sort of shimmery glitter that catches the light when she moves, holding my eyes hostage. She’s all I see. She’s all I breathe. The world around her ceases to exist. I’ve never seen anything so exquisitely beautiful in my life.
Breathtaking.
But what does it for me are her shoes. My eyes are held prisoner by crystal-encrusted stiletto fuck-me heels that elevate her legs in a way that forces my mind on nothing but having them draped over my shoulders at the end of the night.
“Eyes up here,” she laughs with a throaty chuckle, bringing my attention back to her face.
Ladies need to learn one thing. It’s all about the heels. High heels and nothing else will have a man on his knees begging for mercy. Forget the expensive lingerie.
“Shoes stay on,” I barely manage on a whisper.
Bending one knee, she seductively braces her heel against the wall. “Well,” she says, hooking a finger under my chin and bringing my attention to her heavily lined, smoky eyes. “It’d be rude to take them off at the party, now wouldn’t it?”
“No, I mean after the party. Keep the shoes on when I fuck you.”
Bringing her lips within a breath of mine, a wicked smile plays on Laken’s mouth as she licks her wine-stained lips. “Let’s just see how tonight plays out, shall we, Mackay? Depending on how well things go, I just may fuck you.”
Funny how foreshadowing works, huh?
In my head, I hear, “If we pull off this charade and both get what we want, I’ll ride you until we can’t walk tomorrow.”
I have no clue that Laken’s words are literal.
More than once, I consider asking the cab driver to make a detour and drop us off at my apartment instead of the gala. Even as we pull up outside the hotel, with swarms of paparazzi and reporters crowding the entrance, the thought still crosses my mind, especially when she grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze, my grandmother’s ring sparkling brilliantly on her finger.
Once inside, we mingle a bit before making our way to the bar. “I’m so nervous.” Laken smooths the front of her dress for the hundredth time and accepts her martini from the bartender.
Within three sips, half of the liquid is gone, and I can’t help but smile to myself. The last time she drank, she let her guard down, and I spent the night buried so deep inside her I thought I’d never find my way out. I’m hoping for a repeat performance.
“You’ll be fine,” I remind her, slipping my hand into hers. “Don’t let them intimidate you. Just stick to the facts we’ve talked about and if you’re unsure about anything, get them talking about themselves. These arseholes love nothing more than to talk about how great they are.”
“How are you so calm? We’re lying to your bosses, and both our asses are on the line. Getting everything we want is contingent on how well we can sell this.”
Calm? I’m not feckin’ calm. I’m anything but calm. I’m a mess inside. My stomach is churning, my head is pounding, and my heart—well, hell. Let’s not even talk about what a bleedin’ hole that thing has become. All I know is that it aches because I’m about to introduce the woman on my arm as my fiancée, and as much as we’ve planned for this, I don’t want it to be for just one night. I don’t want her to take off that ring when this is over and hand it back to me.
I want more.
Squeezing her hand, I steer her away from the main ballroom and toward a darkened hallway. “We need to talk…”
Before we can turn the corner, salt and pepper gelled hair fills my line of sight, and Mr. Navarro stops me with a friendly hand on my chest. “And who is this beauty, Mackay? I half expected to see little Sophie with you tonight.” A nod to Laken clarifies his statement. “You know, seeing as how this is a charity benefit for your daughter’s school.”
Lacing my fingers with hers, I pull Laken toward me. “Laken Cavanaugh, meet the marketing director at Trask and Payne, Gerald Navarro. Gerald, I’d like you to meet Laken Cavanaugh”—I pause as I speak the words I’ve waited twenty-eight days to say—“my fiancée.”
I steal a quick glance at Laken, whose face is frozen in a forced smile. She’s waiting, as am I, for his response. After a few moments of silence, Navarro’s lips twitch, as a smile builds at the corners until they turn up into a full-hearted laugh. Throwing his head back, he slaps me on my shoulder and beams. “It’s about damn time, Mackay! And I don’t blame you for keeping this one under wraps.” Lowering his voice, he leans in and winks at Laken. “Better to solidify things before subjecting her to the likes of Tribiotti.”
After walking the red carpet and listening to Trask and Payne bigwigs make their inflated speeches, I introduce Laken to all the people who’d be responsible for hiring her as an intern and an eventual full employee. Everything is falling into place, but unfortunately, I have to leave her alone with Vince for a while to actually do my job and take the official pictures for the event. It takes me twice as long to do what I need to do because after every shot, I’m scanning the dance floor and shooting death glares at my friend.
Click.
Vince holding her close.
Click.
Vince looking into her eyes and flashing her a smug smile.
&
nbsp; Click.
Vince twirling her around the dance floor, forcing a giggle out of her that makes me want to throat punch him.
Even though I’m the one who put Laken in his arms, it irritates the hell out of me to watch him dance with her. He’s holding her much too close, and she’s laughing way too loudly at his stupid jokes. I asked him to keep an eye on her while I worked, but even though he’s my friend, I don’t trust him. The minute he lowers a hand to the base of her spine and dips her low, my hand curls around my camera, almost snapping it in two.
Agitated, I force myself to turn my away. That’s it. I’m done. After tonight, I’m telling Laken that all bets are off. I’m done pretending. I’ll live up to my side of our bargain and do everything in my power to get her job at Trask and Payne, but I’m not giving her up. There’s something between us. I feel it, and I’m not letting it go.
Scanning the dance floor, I lock eyes with Laken. She gives me a small smile and dangles her fingers over Vince’s shoulder in an unintentionally sexy wave. I lose my breath. I feckin’ lose my breath, and my dick jumps to attention just from a smile.
There are countless women in this room who could buy and sell her twenty times over. Women who wipe their arses with hundred dollar bills and spend their lives in the limelight, networking with New York’s finest. However, none of them can hold a candle to Laken Cavanaugh. She’s the star of the show, and I’m the envy of every man in the room.
That’s how I know this shite has to end now.
Just as I move to cut in on their dance, a hand snakes across my back. “I hope you saved me a dance.”
I grit my teeth and purposely keep my back toward her. “I’m working, Gloria.”
She seems slightly amused at finding me alone. “Where’s your fiancée? I ran into Bryce Holley, and he told me I should make sure I introduced myself tonight.”
Fecker.
“She’s busy.”
Gloria continues as if I didn’t speak, trailing her nails down the length of my spine. “I knew you’d show up alone, Niall. You’ve been avoiding me for weeks, but it stops tonight. My generosity is over.”
I fix my eyes on Laken through the lens of my camera, but I can almost feel Gloria’s stare on me as she slips a key into my pocket.
“I’m tired of being made to wait.” Patting my pocket, she leans in close. “Room five-sixteen. You either show up and give me what I want, or you can find a new job and Sophie can find herself a new school.”
The band finishes playing their song and the room quiets. I’ve never raised my hand to a woman, but I’ve never wanted to hit one so much in my life as I do right now. If Gloria had a dick swinging between her thighs, she’d already be on the ground with my fist between her eyes.
However, even as our voices rise and eyes turn our way, I rein in my control and turn to face her, dismantling the lens on my camera with more force than necessary. “Threats again?”
Standing in a floor-length, bright red strapless gown, Gloria has her hair swept up in a similar style to Laken’s. But whereas Laken’s looks effortlessly classy and feminine, Gloria’s tightly pulled twist is as harsh as the daggers flying out of her eyes.
“Facts, Niall. And were it not for the fact that my son is here, I’d make a scene right now and bury you.” Gathering her composure, she pats her overly-sprayed hair and nods to the camera still gripped in my hand as she tosses back a glass of champagne. “Now take our picture so I can send him home with my maid, since my so-called nanny had better things to do tonight than her job.”
“Your son?” The words rub me the wrong way. That same unsettled feeling I’ve had all night twists my insides again.
She lets out a small sigh as she snags yet another glass of champagne off a passing hostess tray. “Yes, my son goes to Ravenhill too, Niall. You do remember that this is a benefit for them, don’t you? I need pictures of me being the doting mother.”
“Wait, he’s here? Tonight?”
“Nothing gets by you, does it?”
Walking in, I’d made the decision to protect Laken from Gloria. But this bitch pushes all my buttons and has now forced my hand. If she wants to see a doting mother, I’ll show her a real one.
“Come with me,” I say, grabbing her elbow and pulling her toward the dance floor.
“Thanks,” she smirks, “but I’m not in the mood to tango.”
“And I’m not in the mood for you to carry on with your feckin’ bullshite,” I warn with a growl, making my way toward Laken and Vince. I’m putting all of this to rest. Everything ends tonight. I’ll get Gloria off my back, Sophie will be safe, my job will be safe, and somehow, I’ll convince Laken we’re meant to be together.
I’m feeling confident about my decision until I catch Laken’s eye. The moment she sees me, she stumbles out of Vince’s hold, her eyes wide with terror. Everything seems to happen in slow motion as she glances between Gloria and me, backing away and tripping over the back of her long gown.
Then things go from bad to worse as Bryce Holley appears by Gloria’s side and opens his mouth. “Gloria, have you met Mackay’s new fiancée?”
Gloria laughs hysterically. “Laken Cavanaugh? What the hell are you doing here?”
Laken gasps. “Lady Hammerle?”
I suck in a harsh breath at the sound of Laken’s name on Gloria’s lips. “You know each other?”
“Niall, man, are you all right?” Vince breaks in, lifting an eyebrow. “You’re pale as shit.”
All right?
All feckin’ right?
Nothing about what’s happening is all right. The woman I lied to, who wants to fuck me, and the woman I lied with, who I’m currently fucking, already know each other. In what universe is this all right? In what scenario does this not equal disaster?
Laken covers her mouth with both hands, shaking her head repeatedly as if doing so will teleport her out of the ballroom. “Holy shit, you’re the black widow?”
Gloria’s pupils dilate as she turns and glares at me. “You called me a black widow?”
I shake my head. “Not important, Gloria! Can we please focus on how you know each other?”
“Laken!” Out of nowhere, Preston, who’s dressed in the smallest tuxedo I’ve ever seen, runs across the dance floor and hurls himself into Laken’s arms. Stunned, Laken catches him and gives him a stiff embrace.
“Hi, Pres.”
Bracing myself for the answer I don’t want to hear, I ruffle Preston’s blond hair while keeping my eyes on Laken. “Hey there, Preston. Don’t you mean Mommy?”
If possible, Laken’s face pales even more, and tiny beads of sweat break out across her forehead. “Niall, I can explain.”
Realizing what’s about to happen, I ask the words anyway. “Laken, why is your son here?”
“Her son?” Gloria straightens, reining in the shock that somehow managed to register on her expressionless face. “Preston is my son.”
“No, he’s Laken’s son.”
Gloria narrows her eyes, and as realization blankets her face, a guttural laugh rumbles deep in her throat. “Oh, this is almost worth everything.” She shifts a finger between Laken and me. “So, you concocted this story to make me think you were engaged, and you were the one who ended up getting played.”
I can’t hear a word she’s saying. All I can concentrate on are the tears running down Laken’s face as she hugs Preston to her chest.
“Oh, get over yourself, Niall,” Gloria continues. “Laken has been my nanny for over a year and a half. I had a planned C-section at thirty-six weeks with that boy.” A smug smile paints her lips as she leans in close. “I have no stretch marks because of it. Do you want to see?”
“Laken?” Preston asks, tugging on one of Laken’s curls that has escaped from her pinned hairstyle. “Is Sophie here? Mommy, I’ve had so much fun with Laken and Sophie and Niall.”
With a devious gleam in her eye, Gloria claps her hands and raises her voice. “Well, isn’t this special? Everyone, can I h
ave your attention, please? My son’s nanny is engaged to our own Niall Mackay.” Cuing the band to return to the stage, she grabs as many champagne flutes from a passing tray as she can hold. “Maestros? Can we hear a little Here Comes the Bride? This has turned into an engagement party!”
Gloria hands me a champagne flute, and I freeze as she walks by Laken, who’s clinging to Preston like a life preserver. Taking a long sip, she leans in close and whispers so low, I barely hear her voice. But there’s no mistaking the words I read on her lips.
“Oh, and by the way, you’re fired. Get your shit and get out.”
And just like that, my world ends.
10
Laken
Present Day
Back to Jack from Titanic.
Even when he knows the ship is going down, and he’ll most likely end up as shark bait, he keeps his game face on. Regardless of how many icicles hang from his perfect blond hair or how blue his lips are, the guy has this never say die attitude.
You have to respect that. The chips are down, the band is playing a medley of songs to die by, and people are dropping like flies off the side of the boat, but that son of a bitch never gives up.
So why in the hell am I sitting on my couch at six a.m. in an evening gown, stuffing my face full of ice cream, half drunk, and feeling sorry for myself when I should be climbing to the top of my own sinking ship instead of going down with it?
Good question.
Maybe it’s because I’m a glutton for punishment. Or a moron. Or hopelessly in love. Can you be in love after only four weeks?
Never mind. I’ll answer my own question. Yes, you can, because I’m head over heels in love with Niall Mackay. I just didn’t know it until I lost him. Now, after making myself sick off ice cream and cheap wine, I know there’s only one thing left to do.
Tossing the demolished ice cream carton on the coffee table, I chuck the spoon across the room and discard the empty wine bottle on the floor. The ship may be sinking, but it hasn’t gone completely under yet.
Vote Then Read: Volume I Page 63