by Lindsey Hart
Put that way, it made her sound like a horrible person. Especially since she didn’t even realize that’s what she was doing.
Hot pinpricks burned at the bridge of her nose and stung the corners of her eyes. She blinked hard, refusing to give in to tears. She had less than an hour to get her hair and makeup done and be presentable for some fancy-ass show that she didn’t even want to go to. With her husband. She was tired of the mess and she just seemed to be digging herself deeper.
She hated that when she thought of Brock, her chest tightened and things happened with her body, all over the place, including in her panties. She hated that he was so attractive, but also that he was nice. He was funny and witty. He seemed like he’d be a good guy, like someone who had a friend’s back through the worst of shit, even if no one else was on their side. He seemed like the kind of person who could handle being unpopular as long as he was doing the right thing.
Oh god, I am so screwed.
A knock sounded at the other side of the door. “June? We’re sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it came out,” Jaz said.
“Yeah, you don’t have to tell us about the shower. It’s our punishment. I’ll have a dress set out for you.”
“Please don’t be mad at us. We love you.”
June gripped the vanity’s countertop and stared at herself in the mirror. Her hair was wild and unruly, having dried with the little curls and kinks that it had if she didn’t blow dry or straighten it. Her lips were pink and full. They looked like they’d just been thoroughly kissed. She had a slight pink blush riding on her cheekbones. It was her eyes that were the worst part. Wide and dangerous and smoldering with hidden secrets. Or hidden pleasure. No wonder her friends knew she hadn’t showered alone. She looked like a woman who had just been well pleasured even if it was hours ago.
She couldn’t stay mad at them. Jaz and Mandy were like her sisters. She loved them even if they were a pain in the ass sometimes. Wasn’t that really what friends were for? To call a person on their bullshit and love them anyway?
June slowly unlocked the door and pulled it open. She was immediately enveloped in a tight group hug.
She just had to make it through the night and the following day and she could get the marriage done and over with and put it in her past with all her other mistakes.
There shouldn’t be a hole in her heart or a clenching in her chest. There shouldn’t be a tightening in her stomach or a pressure building up at the bridge of her nose. Brock didn’t belong in the ex’s club with Chris, Shane, and Rob. Then there was the whole thing about every single cell in her body wanting more of him. More of everything. Her friends were right. Brock had pretty much ruined her for sex with anyone else and they hadn’t even had actual sex. Well, that she could remember.
I’m most definitely screwed.
CHAPTER 14
June
Brock pulled up in the same truck he’d taken them to the ranch in. He got out and flashed them a confident grin that revealed both dimples in his freshly shaven cheeks and likely made all of them sigh the most girly, wanton internal sighs.
He was dressed in a pair of black dress pants that were equally as sinful as those jeans he’d worn earlier. They were well fitted to the sleek muscles of his leg and his hashtag ass. His black dress shirt, with the sleeves rolled up, of course, to reveal striated, muscular forearms, also outlined the hard edges of his biceps. His clothes looked expensive and they outlined his body, making it look just as incredibly sexual, as hard and steamy, and fantastic as she knew it was underneath the black fabric. Even his hands were sexy, and they most certainly should not be. However, considering she still remembered what they’d done to her in the shower, they definitely were.
He was freshly shaved, his jaw smooth. His ash-blonde hair was wiped back, his silky long strands laying very neatly. It looked very classy. His eyes sparkled and smoldered when they looked at her and that curl of his full lips told her that he certainly hadn’t forgotten about the incredible sex they’d had without actually having sex at all, a few hours ago.
All in all, he was annoyingly, grating, incredibly, ridiculously perfect.
Because he was a true gentleman, he helped Mandy and Jaz into the back seat of the truck. He saved the front for her.
June shouldn’t have been breathless, but when Brock swept up her hand in his and brushed a kiss across her knuckles, she nearly passed out from lack of oxygen. She’d borrowed a tight-fitting black dress which was plain, strapless, and classy, as it fell below her knee, from Mandy. Her hair was straightened, and her makeup was natural, just a few touches here and there, mascara, blush, and tinted lip balm. She knew she was probably no more than a six, but when Brock unfurled her fingers and sucked her index finger between his lips, when he caressed it with his warm tongue in a move that was so intensely sexual, she nearly ovulated on the spot, she felt more like the infinity that Jaz and Mandy were discussing earlier.
Brock released her hand with a wink and opened the truck door for her. She slid in, careful to keep her legs closed and not flash her black panties. Although, what was the point? He’d seen her entirely naked. Once that she could remember, and one time that she didn’t.
Annoyingly enough, Brock slid into the driver’s seat and navigated through traffic effortlessly. He didn’t appear at all affected. It was insane, given that June felt like she was burning up. She felt hot and sticky and all wrong in her own skin. She didn’t want to go to a damn show. She wanted to go back to his room and have a repeat of the dress ripping session from the night she couldn’t remember. Except that she’d remember this time. Each and every detail.
Mandy and Jaz tittered away in the backseat. June just hoped they hadn’t witnessed the way Brock sucked her finger into his mouth or the way he’d closed his eyes and sighed in pleasure like he was tasting her somewhere else.
The hotel the show was at was huge and confusing, but Brock made quick work of handing the keys to the valet parking and getting them out of the truck. He led them through the maze of people, through the hotel lobby, through the casino, down a hall and into a line of people.
He kept a respectful distance and June had high hopes that she’d be able to regain a semblance of her dignity and self-control.
Until the show started. Jaz and Mandy were seated to her left. Brock was to her right.
She thought nothing of the seating arrangement, just the luck of the tickets he passed to her friends in the line earlier. As the show started, she realized that it was no mistake. Everything Brock did was carefully planned.
She went back to suspecting that he even controlled the weather to lead to that steamy shower earlier.
The show was amazing. The stage was incredible, with pools of water and crazy lighting. June hadn’t been to many theatrical productions, but this one looked expensive. The backdrops were detailed, the costumes were amazing. The dancing was beautiful, and the acrobatics were incredible.
She would have been more enthralled and more tuned in, as Jaz and Mandy were, had Brock not taken the opportunity, every time the lights dimmed, to tease her to the point of madness. It wasn’t much. Just a little touch here and there, the rub of his arm against hers, his leg touching hers as he shifted in his seat. The brush of his fingers against her skin as he fidgeted throughout the show. She was sure it was all carefully calculated.
Unfortunately for her, the show didn’t have one of those intermission things, so the onslaught continued unabated. Brock must have had impeccable timing, because, near what must have been the end of the show, he stepped up his game. The lights were dimmed for the dramatic finale.
He was obviously done with trying to be subtle and went in for the kill. His hand landed boldly on her thigh and her eyes flew to his face just in time to watch him do a slow perusal of her body. No, that hand was no mistake. He hadn’t just slipped in his seat and grabbed her leg to steady himself.
His eyes smoldered when they met hers. He flashed her a wicked, private smile, one that n
early melted her panties right off.
June was thankful it was dark. She turned her face away before Brock could see her blush. She gripped his hand and wrapped her fingers around his. She tried to force it away, but he wouldn’t budge. She turned to him again and the raw caveman-like desire in his eyes was clear. Her stomach clenched and this time, there was a flood in her panties, not a fire.
Her breath caught as his hand slowly stroked a blazing path up her thigh. He leaned in and let out a sinful groan right by her ear, just for her audible pleasure. A quick glance to the side told her that Jaz and Mandy had no idea what was going on. Their eyes were fixed forward, glued to the stage. They were completely oblivious to the sexual war she was fighting.
Brock’s hand continued blazing a trail up her thigh, brushing under the hem of her dress, using it for cover. He’s smooth. He’s really smooth.
She shifted, trying to lock her legs together, but with his hand already there, it was nearly impossible. He leaned in closer, his breath hot on her neck. “You look exquisite tonight.”
June tried not to shiver. She moved her face so that she could whisper back. “I’m not drunk. It’s not going to work. We’re already married, so you’re missing the point.”
Brock’s hand tightened on her leg. “I never miss the point.” His breath filled up her ear and caused every single hair on her neck and the backs of her arms to stand on end. She shivered violently. His hand worked its way another couple inches up her leg. It was dangerously close to places he should definitely not be getting close to in a public setting.
In any setting. No matter how much I might want him to.
She swallowed audibly and slowly glanced over at Brock’s lap. She knew he wouldn’t be unaffected by what he was doing, but she was still a little shocked to see the bulge straining in his pants. It looked like his zipper might actually bust open under the pressure. She knew from experience how huge he was. At least, her hand remembered the feeling of him. Her fingers, resting against the side of her leg, began to tingle. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the tightness in Brock’s pants. It had to be painful for him, but his face remained placid, giving nothing away.
He had a very, very good poker face.
Which was how she got into the whole mess in the first place.
Brock’s eyes landed on her chest, where her breasts swelled against the tight strapless dress. She’d opted to go without a bra, but the dress had cups built into it. It was tight so that it stayed up without any aid, and her breasts spilled over. Not in a slutty way, but with Brock’s stare burning a hole there and doing strange things to her insides, she felt like it revealed far too much. Her pulse began to race so hard she was sure the throbbing of it was evident at her throat.
His gaze swept lower, over her belly, to the juncture of her thighs. His hand moved up until he swept a blazing hot finger across her soaked panties.
June sunk her top teeth into her lip to prevent a gasp from escaping. She should slam her legs shut, forcibly remove his hand… anything. She couldn’t move. She remained locked in place. Her gaze shot to Brock’s face and when his eyes met hers, they were dark with want. His tongue swept pointedly over his lips and she nearly orgasmed at the sight of it.
He tormented her with gentle movements of his fingers while he watched the rapid rise and fall of her breasts. She barely smothered a whimper. She sat stonily in her chair, lest she gives herself away to anyone around her and dies of complete and utter shame.
Suddenly there was a burst of lights and Brock tore his hand away. He straightened in his chair, adjusted his pants with a tug downwards and faced forward.
It was obvious that the show was over, and she’d missed the last twenty minutes. June actually had been so zoned out that she couldn’t remember a single detail. The lights flashed and the performers lined up and people stood to their feet all around them.
She climbed quickly to hers, clapping to blend in like she’d actually taken in anything. Mandy turned to her with wide eyes.
“Oh my god, that was amazing”
“It was soooo good,” Jaz echoed beside her.
They both clapped away like fools.
When the performers shuffled off and the stage returned to darkness and the lights flooded the seating area for good, they waited for the crowds to shuffle out before the four of them made their way back through the hotel to the cool night air.
June shivered. She wished she’d brought a jacket, but it kind of ruined the whole little black dress, high heels, straightened hair, effect. Not that it was a date. It certainly wasn’t a date. And she certainly didn’t care what she looked like. Or what Brock thought about what she looked like.
“That was amazing!” Jaz exclaimed. She and Mandy both turned, eyes wide and shining. “So, who’s up for going out?”
“Going out?” June asked, amazed. “It’s already after midnight.”
Mandy rolled her eyes. “Uhhh, yeah. That’s when people just start to go out, isn’t it? It’s Saturday night. Let’s live a little.”
June shook her head so hard that tendrils of dark hair whipped across her cheeks. “No way. I lived enough last night.” She glanced at Brock and her whole body flushed. Damn him and his wicked, wondering hands. “In case you guys forgot about the fact that we’re married right now.”
Jaz’s smile was so bright it rivaled the lights illuminating The Strip. “Nope. Didn’t forget. I want to go out though. We’re only here for another day.” She flashed Brock an even brighter smile. “Thanks for the show. I have no doubt what you have planned for tomorrow is going to be even more amazing than today.”
“I don’t plan on getting rained on again,” Brock chuckled.
Both Mandy and Jaz turned into visible piles of female goo on the sidewalk. Mandy sighed dreamily.
“Well, if you guys don’t want to go out, that’s alright.” She winked at June, but it was obvious that Brock saw. “If you want to go back to your hotel room and hump like rabbits, that’s alright with us. We’ll go out and try and find some equally inappropriate dates to bring back to our hotel room.”
“Not in my bed,” June groaned. She chose to ignore the whole part about rabbits. Mostly because it was embarrassing AF. Brock, being that he was a gentleman, at least on the outside, started to whistle. He turned around on the sidewalk and left them to their discussion.
“Oh, most definitely in your bed. We are not going to have an orgy in ours,” Jaz insisted. “Even if we are in Vegas, that’s too far for me.”
“And there are only two beds in the hotel room, sooo… if you stay the night with your hot husband, we’ll be good to go.”
June balled her hands into fists. “I’m not going to stay the night with him. That’s not what this is about.”
“Are you sure? He had his hand up your dress for half the show.” Mandy blinked innocently when June’s mouth dropped. “Yup, I saw that. He definitely wants you to spend the night.”
“I saw it too,” Jaz giggled. “I think you should leave us the hotel room. You guys go back like an old married couple and have a good time at Brock’s. It’s settled. Works out for everyone.”
“It does not work out for me,” June protested. “I’m tired. I had a wild night last night. All I want to do is go back to our room and sleep.” Okay, so that was not really what she wanted to do, but her friends didn’t need to know that at the moment. She was so turned on her panties were soaked. She could practically smell herself. They didn’t need to know that she wanted to grab Brock and rub herself all over that hard bulge in his pants to try and sate the ache. She didn’t even want herself to know that.
“Brock?” Mandy asked innocently. He spun around on the sidewalk like he had completely tuned out the last part of that conversation including being- uh- literally caught red-handed up her dress.
“What can I do for you ladies?” Brock flashed them his double dimpled grin and Jaz and Mandy nearly melted all over again. Both of them blushed. Big time.
; Mandy recovered herself enough to finally get out a few words. “You’re tired too, aren’t you? You would rather just- go back to your room with your wife and leave us to the rest of our night?”
Brock feigned a yawn and Jaz let out a girlish giggle as he did. “I’m exhausted. Us old married folk turn into pumpkins at midnight. We better get back.” He circled around and his hand closed over June’s upper arm. She tried not to shiver, but she couldn’t help it. Her whole body reacted so strongly she nearly climaxed at his touch. Or the fact that her friends were going to get their way and she was definitely about to go back to Brock’s room.
And that most definitely did not involve sleep. If she was the equivalent of a male and was thinking with her vagina, her hoo-ha really liked that idea. Her brain seemed to have shut off completely because all she could do was stand there like a pile of mush and let Brock say goodnight to her friends, wish them well, and lead her back to the valet stand while they eagerly caught a cab, off to a night of sin and debauchery.
And god, the promise of both, as Brock helped her into the truck the valets brought around, was enough to kill whatever remaining brain cells she had left, because all her protests died a hard death and she sat silently while Brock drove them back to his hotel.
CHAPTER 15
Brock
As June perched uncomfortably on the edge of his bed, he couldn’t believe his luck. Nothing had gone like he thought it would, but somehow, as if by magic, she was there, in his room.
“I still don’t even know why I’m here,” June muttered, obviously reading his mind. She cast him a scathing glance, probably the hundredth one since they got in the truck after the show. “Oh right. You had your hand up my dress for half the show and for some reason I allowed myself to be turned into a steaming pile of bad decisions.”
Brock suppressed a laugh, but it came out as a snort. He snagged a deck of cards off the nightstand and sat down across from June. She eyed him like he was going to jump her. He was… just not yet.