by Melissa Blue
Porter folded his arms across his middle. The black ink of his tats were stark against his brown skin. “Are you going to answer me? Where did you go?”
He'd gone to get a bourbon at the bar and had glanced around to get a better feel for the crowd. From across the room all he could see was a woman's back. The rest of the world dimmed, and he knew, could tell from the way his scalp tightened, the woman was Sophie. He'd crossed the room and she was there with another guy. A guy who let her get manhandled and felt up. His shoulders crept up, taut with tension.
Porter wanted to know what he'd been doing? Losing his fucking shit over a woman he didn't like. Talking about how Sophie got him riled up with a backless dress would only make it worse.
“Nope.”
“Figures,” his friend said without heat. “And by the way, I found a hat for you—a dunce cap.” Porter reached beneath his chair then threw something red at Wade.
He caught it and snorted. “A fez? Where'd you get this?”
“There's a cosplay area near the bathroom.”
He'd noticed a few out there outfits for what was supposed to be a black tie affair. Cosplay and assigned seating. Artists were a weird lot.
Wade slouched in the chair and put on the hat then sported a big grin. “How do I look?”
“An idiot, like me.”
He grasped his friend's shoulder. “Peas in a pod.”
But he took note that Porter glanced down to Victor. That relationship remained rocky and likely always would. Wade sighed and butted in like he always did. “Get him a puppy.”
“What?”
“I'm his support system. I'm a shit one. And Oliver has some contacts through his parents. I'm sure they can find dogs that help with PTSD.” He swallowed, because Porter's problem wasn't Victor. It was with his sister dating a man who could hurt her. “You won't have to worry about Ashley.”
Grady glanced up from his phone. Wade said before his brother could butt in, “Mind your business.”
His brother shook his head and leaned over to whisper something to Victor. Whatever it was, Victor cracked a smile before closing his eyes. With every intent to annoy his brother until the ceremony started, Wade leaned forward.
The hairs along his nape stood. No. His scalp tightened. He knew that sensation and only one person caused the reaction.
Slowly, he turned his head to see Sophie standing with her mouth open. At his row. Artists and their fucking assigned seating.
He didn't let his gaze linger. It wanted to, but Wade needed to glare at her useless date. What was the point of the man if he didn't fondle Sophie at every opportunity? Window dressing at best. Blonde hair, brown eyes, rugged jawline. So sure, genetics had done well by him. Wade just wanted to punch the smirk off his face. Sophie pushed back her shoulders and settled in next to him, her gaze fixed straight ahead.
That wouldn't do.
“Ms. Lake,” he whispered, “what a surprise.”
“Dr. Addison.”
Even pissed, her voice sounded like pure seduction.
“You look lovely.”
Her head whipped in his direction. The breath she sucked in made her breast move in interesting ways against the silky fabric. “Stop being nice.”
Interesting. She did look lovely, and letting her know wasn't nice. It was pointing out the obvious. At best that made him redundant. “Why?”
“We both know you're not nice. So when you are, it feels like lying. ”
“That's fair.” He thought on a solution. “You want the unvarnished truth then?”
“Regal me.”
He drifted to the side and murmured, “I'd fuck you right here and now if you'd let me. And your date could watch. Probably learn some things.”
Her tongue flicked out before she wet her top lip and his groin tightened. “Inappropriate,” she muttered, but Sophie leaned into him.
“What's inappropriate is the way you're wearing that dress.”
“Is that why you apologized? You wanted to fuck me?” Her voice caressed like a feather against his skin it was so low
“No. I apologized because it was the right thing to do.”
She turned her head toward him. Her cheek brushed his for a brief moment, leaving behind the sensation of soft warmth. Her eyes were big, vulnerable. More brown than green as she wore the fuck out of that black dress while sitting still.
He flexed his hand. Dragging her out of the room to get her alone would do him no favors. Oliver would serve him a helping of quiet disappointment for leaving before the award ceremony began.
He let his gaze skip past her. Her date didn't measure on the scale of worries. The man sat there while Wade all but pulled Sophie into his lap and licked her. Still might if her nipples kept poking against the black material.
Her breathing stopped and then she forced it out, turning her focus to the front of the room. “Why are you wearing that stupid hat?”
The question let him know she forgave him, and he hoped that meant something between them had shifted for the better. “So my friend won't feel stupid by himself.”
She sighed. “Nice, again.”
“Assholes can be nice.”
“With lots of prep and lube, I hear,” she said in a deadpan tone.
He caught her smile a second later and laughed. Porter shifted at his side. Dammit.
“Mind your business,” he said, without a single hope the demand would be considered.
Porter narrowed his gaze on Sophie and then smiled wide. “Sophie?”
“No,” Wade answered, more than a little annoyed at the correct guess.
His friend stretched his hand out. “Porter Hicks. Nice to meet the woman giving him an eye twitch. No one gets under his skin.”
“Grady does,” Wade offered.
“Lifelong practice,” his friend threw back.
She said, “Very nice to meet you.” Her gaze dropped down to his shirt. “I can see why you're friends.”
Porter's shirt was definitely something Wade would have worn three months ago on a lark. He frowned. It might even be his shirt.
And despite her words being a backhanded compliment, Porter chuckled. The man didn't take much to heart. “I like you.”
Sophie smiled and for the first time he noticed that small act always hid her vulnerability.
“Thank you.” She rubbernecked down the row. “And that's Grady and Victor, I'm guessing. Where's Oliver?”
Porter jerked his stare to Wade. “You told her about us?”
Wade cringed. After the phone incident, he assumed she had a file on him, and that would include information about his friends. Much like he had on her... So how could he be mad?
Porter could be a different story.
“She needed to know about me so it's guilt by association,” he said that to Porter and to her, he muttered, “And Oliver is sitting with the nominees.”
“She's had us what? Investigated?” A hint of temper flashed in his friend's eyes.
At that sharply asked question, Grady and Victor drew their attention down the row to Porter then her. Wade stood, grabbed Sophie's arm. He didn't bother with any explanations or excuse me's as he pulled her out of the room.
The fact she didn't put up a fight and her date moved his legs out of the way, didn't dawn on him until he had her alone in one of the theater's hallways. The low lights were probably supposed to act as a deterrent to linger, but the darkness fit his mood.
And Sophie...
Their eyes met.
She put her back to the wall, her breathing harsh. “You dragged me out of a room, away from your friends to glare at me?”
No. That was a side benefit for him. “You don't know my friends. No matter how much research you might have done.”
“What should I be worried about?”
He pressed his hand on the wall. Yeah. It brought her hips within thrusting distancing and her mouth was a lean away...
Focus.
Benefits aside, he had a damn good re
ason for removing her from the situation. “They are meddlesome, and Porter has a temper. He'll take issue if you hired a private investigator and dug into our lives. Especially if you let him think about it too long.”
“But you're not bothered?”
“You're good at your job. Of course you would know a lot about my friends. But you don't know everything and they will need a moment to cool down. Without you in their face.”
“And doing everything but throwing me over your shoulder...”
Made perfect sense. The questions would have started until his friends figured out it was Sophie. Any and all anger would dissipate at that fact. They never met any of the women he dated or liked. That would be a once in a lifetime opportunity they would not be able to pass up. The teasing would have turned intense.
And...he kind of wanted to get her alone.
He leaned in, letting her warmth wash over him. He didn't want them to scare her away. Wade knew damn well he should have embraced that outcome with open arms.
He brought his stare to hers. She looked more pissed than before he offered his apology, but just standing there next to her had his heart racing and his dick burning the memo she was off-limits. He hated her. Hated how wet and soft her bottom lip looked in the light. Hated the way his everything tightened in anticipation. He was out of control and knew it.
“Sophie...”
As her eyes widened, she looked as soft as her name.
Fucking focus. Your brother and friends need a moment to cool off. This is not time to indulge or cross a line with the sexy publicist.
Her breath hitched. “Don't look at me like that. Nothing has changed.”
He couldn't look at her in any other way, despite knowing better. Despite reciting his good intentions in his mind—his semi-good intentions...
She licked her lip again and it took everything to not taste her.
But why was he fighting the attraction? Really, why? He couldn't remember as they stood so close.
“Don't you feel it?” he asked. “When I touch you, doesn't something shift inside you?”
He ate up more space between them and watched her eyes. Her mouth could lie but not her gaze. She had.
“Dammit, Wade.”
He swallowed the grin at her answer. “I know, but fuck... We're alone. You're soft. And we touched.”
Her attention strayed to his mouth before she shook her head. “Pull yourself together. Remember your friends.”
He glanced down and tried for her sake, but her nipples were pressing against the dress. And she was as tempted as him. “Sophie, if you don't want me to kiss you, now is a good time to make a protest.”
“We shouldn't. We don't like each other.”
She was right. Absolutely. But... “It's mouth fucking. We should.”
She sighed. “You're an ass, and I don't think you can stop that. Or...You'll lash out again.”
“I won't. Not like that. Not on purpose because you...dug into me. And I can't be an ass if my mouth is on you.”
“Fuck,” she muttered. “I actually believe you.”
Curious, he asked, “Yeah?” Why ask a dumb ass question when she was a moment away from letting him kiss her? He didn't know but now he wanted her answer.
She sucked in a breath and nodded. “Yeah. You apologized. That's human decency, sure, but you don't understand...” She dropped her attention to the floor.
Given her past, Wade could guess that told her what she needed to know about him as a person, as a man. That simple action told her she could trust him enough to put his mouth on her.
“Sophie, if you don't want—”
She wrapped her hand around his tie and pulled him to her mouth. Felt like a legit “yes” to him. He closed his hands on her arms and pressed against all that soft warmth—he needed to feel every inch of her. When she moaned, he wanted the sound to rumble through him.
The champagne had left her taste sweet and crisp and he drank her in. He let himself ride the heady sensation her mouth left behind every time she sucked gently on his lips before diving back in for a deeper kiss. Her tongue came next, and he didn't mind that she took control. Only an idiot would complain at the way she made his blood whoosh south with a flick, a bite and a breathy sigh.
The only way for her to be closer was to slip into her skin, and God he tried when he pushed her into the wall, one leg edging between hers. If a word existed for the desperate ache in his stomach, in his cock, he couldn't conjure it. Wade could only curl his fingers into her arms and grind into her every time she licked inside his mouth.
She moaned. He stilled. Just as he thought, the sound rumbled through him. Wade released his hold on her arms to cup her cheeks. An absent jerk from his wrists and her head tilted back as far as it could go. He kissed her the way he wanted to fuck her—hard and slow. Wade gave her tongue whenever she whimpered.
It was wrong to have her like this. He hadn't miraculously stopped hating her; the need to taste her had just taken over. And what would happen after they broke apart? She'd still think of him as her client. How could he forget the baggage he carried? It didn't let him.
Knowing that soon his illness would be the top worry again, he kissed her like nothing else mattered but the feel of her lips beneath his. They weren't in a dark hallway. This wouldn't end. Their world, this attraction was simple. No point in fighting it.
“Figured as much,” Porter's voice rang out, shattering the lies.
Sophie jolted, her mouth breaking from his. If she wore lipstick, he'd have kissed it off, but her lips were only swollen. Her pupils were damn big too. She wanted more and he wanted to take everything she offered.
“Ignore the speaking idiot behind me,” he said. “We were finally talking about something we were both interested in.”
Her voice came out on a rasp, “I don't remember words.”
He shifted and nipped her lobe. “Don't you? In all the ways that mattered I let you know how good you tasted. I'd bet my kisses left you wet.” He lowered his voice. “Let me see if you are. Let me lick my fingers once I know for sure I've left you soaking. I'd bet money your pussy tastes better than your mouth.”
Her weight shifted and Wade liked to think she needed to use his body for support. She huffed. “You don't act like you pay enough attention to the world around you to be this...forthright with women.”
“Depends on what I'm paying attention to, and right now, Sophie, that's you. The only thing in my universe is you.”
The confession should have made his heartbeat thump wildly, but the words were the truth. The knowledge wasn't scary or intimidating. The unknown was what made his sweat turn cold. Why did Sophie inspire this reaction in him? Why did he want Porter to go away and let them have this moment? Why Sophie?
And he couldn't measure her, put her under a microscope or test her to find the elements that made her personality and physical attributes appealing to him. She was a mystery and he hated them.
Finally Wade pulled out of her orbit. Her stare dropped to his mouth. His gut clenched. “Porter, what do you want?”
“Oliver's category is coming up.”
He sighed. “Give me a minute. I'll be right there.”
“Don't think I forgot,” Porter said. “We're going to talk about her eventually.”
But not tonight. Wade felt more than saw Porter's departure but he could see the way Sophie watched it all. Her eyes were both wary and curious.
She said, “That's interesting.”
“What?”
“You'd walk away from us, right now, for Oliver. You're not all asshole.”
His friends had made sure he didn't get lost into the abyss. They would be his tethers whether he asked for the support or not. Given his problem, there would probably be many days he didn't have the mind to want their help or know he needed it. So if every now and again he had to put on tuxedo, be polite and clap, he'd do it.
“He's my friend.”
“That simple?”
“I'm not very complicated.”
She lifted to the tips of her toes and kissed him softly, briefly. “And still you're wearing that stupid hat. I can't take you seriously.”
Porter called the fez a dunce cap, but that was only because he found Doctor Who boring and weird. Even Grady only kind of liked it. But this...Wade wanted to share this with her.
“Like you said, I'm a special kind of asshole. ‘The hoper of far-flung hopes, and the dreamer of improbable dreams.' Never take me seriously, unless I'm running.” He plucked the hat from his head and put it on hers. Her updo flattened with the addition. She looked less perfect and more interesting with the cap sitting precariously on her hairstyle. And it was something of his. He wanted to mark her and this was the only way he could without leaving scars.
“The only thing you should know,” he said, “the only thing you should take to heart is that I'm a mad man.”
Her shiver rattled his spine. “Are you quoting that show you love?”
God, he wished. No matter how much he wanted her, he was a mad man who sometimes wouldn't be able to find his way home.
Dully, he heard the applause leaking out from the theater. “I apologized and I meant it, Sophie. And now I have to go.”
The kindest thing he could have ever done was walk away from her, and he did.
CHAPTER
3!
Three days later, Sophie knocked on the apartment door before she could talk herself out of this insane gesture. No one loitered in his neighborhood, and the few cars in the parking lot were high-end. A beat-up looking Jeep stood out, and she'd take one guess at the owner after spotting the specialty license plate. It spelled out “relative.”
Wade was home.
“No excuses to run away now.”
After their...interlude on Saturday, she hovered at the back of the room to avoid having to sit next to him for two hours. She knew what his mouth tasted like—no way could she idly sit near him. She did cheer when Oliver won¸ though not as loud as his friends. They caused a racket and even from her vantage point, she could see Oliver's blush. He still thanked them and called them the Goon Squad aka village idiots he'd adopted to teach how to read.