Do Me Right

by Lisa G Riley

  “I believe that they prefer to be called dancers, Kendra.”

  “So sorry,” she said sarcastically.

  Sloan laughed and kissed her. “You always make me feel better, Kennie-girl.”

  She smiled against his lips and lifted her hand to stroke his face. “I’m glad, and stop it with the ‘Kennie-girl.’ The place is too crowded for you to try to seduce me.”

  “You caught that, did you?” he whispered and kissed her again.

  “Yes, I did,” she said and caught her breath. “All right, Blondie. Remove the hand.”

  Sloan inched his hand farther along her inner thigh. “What if I don’t?”

  She lifted a brow. “If you don’t, there’ll be no trip to paradise for you when we get home.”

  Sloan’s mood drooped around the edges. “Well, if you want to put it that way…”

  “I do, yes,” she confirmed with a nod, laughing at his hangdog look.

  “Fine, but that will mean no trip for you either.”

  “By morning you’ll be begging for it,” she said nonchalantly and shrugged. “I can live till then.” She picked up her wine and took a sip, cradling the glass with her elbows on the table.

  “You’re that sure of me, huh?”

  Kendra turned to look at him and leaned in to rub her nose against his. “Yep, I’m that sure.”

  “Well, guess what,” Sloan demanded.

  “What?”

  “You have every right to be,” he said and removed his hand.

  Laughing more, she kissed him again.

  “Hey, stop with all the lovey-dovey stuff,” Mozell said.

  “Yeah, and no more whispering,” Victoria threw in.

  Kendra looked over. “Sorry,” she said with a smile.

  “I’m not,” Sloan declared. “I don’t see anything wrong with showing the woman I’m going to marry a little love and affection.”

  “Love and affection are fine,” Victoria countered. “It’s what comes after that none of us want to see.”

  Sloan conceded with a nod.

  “Let’s talk about the bachelorette party tomorrow,” Mozell suggested.

  “Ooh, let’s,” Kendra said excitedly.

  “Where are you having it?” Connor asked.

  “Ravinia.”

  “Ravinia? The outdoor concert place?”

  “Yes, Ravinia,” Mozell replied snippily to Connor’s skepticism. “Is there a problem?”

  “I think what Connor is trying to get across is that Ravinia seems a funny place to have a bachelorette party,” Sloan offered.

  Victoria shrugged. “Not to us, it isn’t.”

  “So I suppose you’re going to take a picnic out there and sit and drink champagne or something,” Connor said.

  “That’s exactly what we’re going to do,” Kendra answered.

  Connor looked at Sloan and shook his head.

  Sloan shrugged. “That’s what she wants to do. I don’t have a problem with it.”

  “Weird,” Connor muttered.

  “Why? Because there isn’t going to be any debauchery?” Mozell asked with a superior smirk.

  Connor’s gaze slid slowly over her. “Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it, Slim. Anytime you want to give it a go, you give me a call.”

  Mozell only blinked and stared.

  Kendra interrupted. “Don’t worry about us. We’re going to have a great time.”

  “Yeah, first we’ll have a little get-together at Kendra and Sloan’s for hors d’oeuvres, games, and gifts,” Victoria began, “and then we’re off to Ravinia to hear some jazz.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Sloan said.

  *

  Kendra stood in the middle of the living room, taking in every inch of the space. She wanted to be sure that everything was perfect for when Sloan arrived home. She’d spoken to him earlier and could tell that he was stressed. There were still no leads on the office thief, and today was his last day of work before the wedding and honeymoon, which meant that he’d be out of the office for two and a half weeks. “My poor alpha dog isn’t too happy about that,” she murmured as she flicked the switch on a remote so Stevie Wonder’s voice oozed through the speakers. She made sure all the rest of the remotes were lined up on the table.

  She wanted to help him relax, to take care of him. She’d been off work since the day before to prepare for the wedding. And once she’d left work, she didn’t think about it. She’d done all she could before she left to make sure all of her ducks were in a row. She was sure Sloan had done the same, but it was a bit different for him because he was the man in charge. She went to the kitchen and brought out the tray of vegetables and dip she’d made up. She placed it on the table, then rushed back to the kitchen to grab the fresh fruit tray.

  After she’d placed the last tray on the table, she looked at her watch. He’d be home at any moment. She walked back to the kitchen to place her tilapia filets in the oven, boogying to the beat of Stevie Wonder’s “Sir Duke.” She used a long-tined fork to lift the six filets—he’d eat four of them, at least—out of their plastic bag and into the baking dish. I marinated them just long enough to be perfect.

  Just as she opened the oven door, “Signed, Sealed, Delivered I’m Yours” began to play. “Love this song,” she trilled and started singing. She was singing so loudly that she didn’t hear the front door open.

  “Ooh, baby, here I am: signed, sealed, delivered—I’m yours.”

  And there she was, bent over, shaking her ass, singing off-key, when she heard Sloan clear his throat from the kitchen doorway. She straightened slowly, deliberately, and closed the oven door. Then she turned and let him get an eyeful of the French maid’s outfit she wore. She knew he might dismiss the blouse and the black skirt. She had half a dozen outfits that were nearly the same. But the apron—white, lacy, dainty—the apron he couldn’t ignore.

  “Hi, sweetheart!” She walked over to greet him. “Dinner’s almost ready,” she whispered against his lips after a thorough kiss.

  “I’m not so interested in dinner,” Sloan said as squeezed her behind.

  “That’s for later,” she stated firmly. “And I thought I’d treat you with one of the presents from my bachelorette party then. But first, I want you to relax.” She stepped out of his arms, took his hand, and led him to the living room. “Let me have your jacket.” She placed it on the arm of the nearest chair. She then pushed him down onto the sofa so he was sitting in front of the fruits and vegetables. “Here’s something to hold you over until dinner, and the remotes are all here. That documentary on Queen Elizabeth that you’ve been wanting to see is in the DVD player.”

  “Thank you, honey. You’re so good to me,” Sloan said before closing his eyes and leaning his head back. He toed his shoes off.

  “Aw, poor baby,” Kendra crooned as she stepped behind the sofa to massage his shoulders. “Tough day, huh?”

  “Umm.” Sloan agreed.

  “Just let me get some of the kinks out,” she soothed. Her hands went to his neck. “Do you want a full-body massage later?”

  Sloan moaned. “That’s what you’d call a rhetorical question, right?”

  Kendra kissed the top of his head. “For you? Always,” she promised.

  After a few minutes, Sloan finally opened his eyes. “That felt good, honey,” he said and caught one of her hands in his, then brought it to his lips and kissed the palm. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. Now eat your vegetables.”

  In the process of biting into a carrot stick, Sloan said, “Aren’t you having any?”

  “I will in a minute. I’ve got to check on dinner.”

  She was putting the lid back on one of two pots when he walked up behind her, put his arms around her, and pulled her into his body.

  Startled, Kendra put her fork down and laughed. “Sloan! What are you doing? I’m trying to make dinner.” Her hands went to his, and her head automatically fell to the side so his lips could have better contact with her neck. />
  “Forget about dinner,” he said, sliding his hands down her hips to catch the ends of her skirt, and then slowly sliding them back up again, bringing the skirt with them. “I want to make love to my wife-to-be.”

  Kendra’s eyes fell closed, and she wantonly pushed her ass into his erection. “Dinner can wait,” she agreed and switched the oven and burners off.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  “Is Kendra sure her cousins don’t resent me for being in the wedding?” Mozell whispered to Tory as they stood in front of the pulpit at St. Catharine’s Catholic Church. In lieu of flower petals, Kendra’s four-year-old cousin Laila scattered pieces of paper down the aisle.

  Tory chanced a glance at a group of four women huddled together on a pew and by turns whispering and flicking glances at the pulpit. “So what if they do? Ignore them. They’re only here for form anyway. Kendra’s not close to any of them.”

  “See, I would do that,” Mozell began, “but um…the tall, thick one kinda scares me. She’s been giving me the evil eye since I got here, and I could swear she pointed at me, shook her fist, held up three fingers, and mouthed the words three o’clock.”

  Tory snorted and covered her mouth to hide the guffaws that wanted to escape. She tried to focus on Sloan’s nephew, Sam, as he walked down the aisle carrying an empty pillow. “I see why Kendra likes you,” she said from the corner of her mouth. “You’re a fool. Now will you please be quiet—oh Lord,” she said as she saw Camille bearing down on them. “You’ve done it now. Here comes Kendra’s crazy mama.”

  Mozell’s laughter sputtered out. A fake coughing fit followed. “Oh…uh…excuse me, so sorry. I think I need some water…ow,” she said indignantly when Tory elbowed her in the side.

  “Don’t you even think of leaving me to face that scary little woman by myself,” Tory muttered and grabbed her hand.

  Mozell continued to cough.

  Camille wasn’t buying any of it. “Girls, is there a problem?” she asked with a lifted brow and a gimlet stare.

  “No, ma’am,” Tory said.

  “Uh…no,” Mozell said.

  “Good, because if you don’t mind, we’d all like to get out of here sometime today. Understand?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” they chorused.

  When Camille walked away, Mozell whispered, “Why is she always able to make me feel like I’m about ten years old, or worse, like I just have no business trying to live?”

  “You too, huh? I thought I was the only one.”

  They watched Camille go sit with Kendra’s cousins, who all in various ways showed their approval of what she’d just done. “Well, now we know whose side she’s on,” Tory whispered.

  “Here comes Kendra.”

  Kendra frowned as she tried to keep up with her uncle’s long strides down the aisle. She hadn’t wanted to ask him to walk her down the aisle, but Camille had pitched a fit after Kendra had told her she was going to ask Sloan’s dad. She’d gone on and on saying her brother was actual family, so he should do it. Kendra had argued back that she didn’t really know her uncle.

  The real reason was that in the back of her mind, she blamed him for not helping her when she’d needed him as a child when Camille had zoned out on her. The strongest image Kendra had of her mother’s brother was one of inaction. He was her mother’s only living relative, yet he’d done nothing to help Camille when she’d gone crazy after Cedric’s leaving. And of course, he’d never taken Kendra out of her mother’s sphere of influence.

  All Kendra remembered her uncle Jack doing when he came over—the few times he did—was dropping her cousins off. And Kendra had hated it when they came to visit, particularly the oldest three. They were bullies, plain and simple, and they’d picked on their youngest sister, Jasmine, just as much as they had Kendra. Kendra’s flower girl, Laila, was Jasmine’s daughter. Kendra rarely saw any of them, including Laila, and it was like they weren’t related at all.

  She looked up and saw Sloan smiling and waiting for her. She smiled back. Never mind all of that now, she thought. Life goes on.

  *

  “Have you got everything?” Sloan asked Kendra later that afternoon.

  “Yeah, I think so.” She walked through the door he held open for her. “You put the bridesmaids’ and groomsmen’s presents in the trunk earlier, right?”

  “Yes, and before you ask, I have the flower girl’s and ring bearer’s gifts in there too.”

  “Good. I think everyone will love their gifts, don’t you?” They’d gotten Mozell and Tory silver, heart-shaped keepsake boxes, Connor and Kyle silver cuff links, and Laila and Sam pewter banks. With the exception of Kyle’s and Connor’s, each gift was engraved with the recipient’s name. Connor’s and Kyle’s had their initials only.

  “Yeah, I think they will, though Kyle might have appreciated the traditional flask more than cuff links.”

  Kendra stopped in her tracks, a worried frown marring her brow. “You really think so?”

  Sloan shook his head. “I’m only teasing, Ken,” he said. “The gifts are great. Now get in the car before we’re late to your mother’s shindig.”

  Kendra slid in and put her seat belt on. When Sloan was all buckled up and ready to go, she said, “I still can’t believe Mom offered to take care of the rehearsal dinner. She rented out space in the park and paid for the caterer and everything.”

  “Well, it will be better than a stuffy old restaurant. At least the kids can run around, and people can relax with some barbecue.”

  “That’s true,” Kendra said distractedly. After a moment, she said, “You know Mom only offered to foot the bill for the rehearsal dinner because I let it slip about your parents paying for our night in the Four Seasons honeymoon suite before we leave for Tahiti, right?”

  Sloan looked at her in surprise and then refocused his eyes back on the road. “Yeah, I’d figured as much. I just didn’t know if you had thought of it.”

  “Of course I had,” she assured him as she trailed her fingers through the hair at his nape. “Speaking of which, you know we can skip it if you want.”

  “Skip what?”

  “The honeymoon,” Kendra began and, warming to her subject, turned toward him. “Just hear me out. I know you’re worried about that thief in your firm, and a honeymoon would—”

  “No, just stop, Kendra. We’re going on our honeymoon, and that’s that.”

  “But won’t your leaving make the FBI suspicious? What about the state’s attorney?”

  “Yeah, I thought about that, and I discussed it with them. This honeymoon has been planned for almost an entire year, and they know that. And besides, I’ve not kept anything secret from them. Hell, I’ve even let their forensic accountant have a look at things. He has no clue either.”

  Kendra shook her head. “But don’t they get it? You could have been planning this all along. I mean, you could just be a really clever crook.”

  Once again, Sloan looked away from the road long enough to look at her. “Gee, thanks, Ken. Remind me never to introduce you to Connor’s FBI contact. After one conversation with you, he’d probably have me in handcuffs.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I do, but don’t worry about it,” he told her as he caressed her knee. “It’s fine. And besides, after all the bullshit, I need some time away. The case is at a complete standstill. It’s like I imagined the theft and Mrs. Patterson’s disappearance.”

  “I’m sorry, baby.” She waited for him to park the car before saying reluctantly, “I suppose we could postpone the wedding if…” She stopped at the sheer look of incredulity on his face.

  “We are not postponing our wedding! I’ll be damned if I’ll devote more of my life to this theft than I have to.”

  Kendra rushed to hug him and pressed a kiss to his mouth. “I love you.”

  “And I love you,” he returned before covering her mouth in another kiss.

  The kiss was so carnal that Kendra moaned. “What was that for?” she asked when t
heir mouths broke contact.

  “I figure I may as well get all I can while I still have the chance,” Sloan grumbled, “since I was an idiot and let you women talk me into spending the night away from my future wife.”

  Kendra smiled. “It’s only one night. And besides, you’re not supposed to see the bride before the wedding.”

  “Superstitious nonsense. And what’s that got to do with your spending the night at home? You could always leave early and get dressed.”

  “Yes, but this way the girls and I can do girlie stuff the night before in the hotel suite. And anyway, you’re having your bachelor party tonight. You’ll probably get too drunk to know if I’m home or not.”

  “I’m not going to get drunk, Kendra. You know me better than that. Have you ever seen me drunk?”

  “Never. But that’s what men do at their bachelor parties—get drunk and try not to think about the freedom they’re about to give up.”

  “I lost my so-called freedom four years ago when you walked into my office and smiled at me.”

  Kendra made a helpless, whimpering sound and kissed him tenderly. “God, when you say things like that I get all mushy inside.”

  Sloan grinned. “Mushy enough to stay home tonight?”

  She laughed. “Not quite, Blondie. But it’s a close one.” She held her hand out so that he could see that she was holding her thumb and forefinger about an inch apart. When he took her fingers and kissed them, she asked, “Will Kyle be staying the night at the apartment or going back to his hotel?”

  “Who knows with Kyle?”

  “Why’d he get a hotel room anyway?”

  “He says he wants to give us privacy and have some privacy of his own in case he gets lucky.”

  Kendra shook her head. “No doubt about it; the man is hands down a freak. Did you see him hitting on Tory at the wedding rehearsal?”

  “Yeah, I did. Right after he finished hitting on Mozell. Connor didn’t like that too much.”