by Calista Fox
“So unrequited love on her part.”
“I think it’s more of an infatuation with my last name.”
“I doubt that’s it. You’re a bit on the wonderful side.”
“Just a bit, huh?” He gave her another sexy grin.
“Okay,” she said around a sip. “Incredibly wonderful. But don’t sidetrack me. What about question number two?”
“It’s not just about money, where my parents are concerned. It’s a lot of what money—especially family money, versus new money—represents. The prestige, the status, the privilege. That’s all very important to them. So is cultivating the right reputation.”
“With the right job, the right friends, the right car, the right…woman?” She lifted a brow.
“Yes to all of the above,” he said. “But note that I specifically was telling Chip on Monday morning that neither he nor I subscribe to the arm candy theory to promote a prominent image. Then you popped up in front of me. I wasn’t instantly hooked because of how I thought you’d look by my side this evening, but rather because you immediately sparked my interest—which doesn’t happen often. But now, here I am, feeling like the fucking king of the world as practically every man in the room is craning his neck to get a better look at you. Which, now that I think about it, makes me a colossal hypocrite.”
“It doesn’t,” she insisted, her heart warming. “And I suspect they just want to see who you dared to bring to the party.”
“No.” He stared down at her and smiled confidently. “You are mesmerizing and they’re not just stealing glances your way, they’re outright ogling.”
“I find that hard to believe.” She wouldn’t have noticed even if it were true, because she couldn’t tear her eyes from her devilishly handsome escort. He pulled her closer to him, tucking her tight against his hunky body. Very territorial. She loved it.
“Trust me.” Tague planted a quick, sweet kiss on her cheek. “They’re all cursing me for being one lucky son of a bitch.”
They reached the wall of windows and stared out at the glittery snowflakes. It was practically a whiteout at this point, with very few people on the sidewalk.
“This is all so beautiful,” L.L. said. “The stunning holiday decorations. And the company truly is exceptional.” Tague was standing behind her, but their gazes held in the reflection of the enormous glass panes. She lifted her flute to him. She could feel his heat, smell his expensive scent—more intoxicating than the champagne she enjoyed.
“I’m glad you like the venue. I booked us a suite here for the night.”
“Tague. This evening is costing you a small fortune.”
His hands lightly gripped her hips. He whispered in her ear, “A drop in the bucket that hardly compares to the memory I’ll keep of you in this dress. Of you glowing radiantly. Of you almost naked on top of me earlier, coming…how many times, was it?”
26
She flushed. “Three times. All blissfully, I might add.”
“Hmm. Not enough.”
“Oh, really?”
His grasp on her made it easy for him to shift her hips from side to side. A slight gesture. A smooth rocking motion.
“You know what that does to me when wearing this thong,” she said.
His lips grazed her neck and he murmured, “Come again for me.”
“We’re in a roomful of people.”
“Who have no idea what we’re up to.”
Tague’s body shielded her from any inquisitive eyes, with his back to the crowd. Yet she said, “They will when they get a gander at your erection.” She could feel that he was already hard as her ass rubbed against his crotch.
“Let me worry about that.”
She sipped more bubbly while watching the image of them, Tague still nibbling at her neck. Her heart pounded. Her pussy ached for him. The pearls along her clit and the rim of that forbidden spot were too arousing not to succumb to, regardless of the well-populated room. Fortunately, very few associates had left the masses to seek privacy along the perimeter, so she and Tague were all alone.
“The only thing that would make this better,” he quietly told her, “is if I could slip my hands inside your dress and caress your breasts. Roll and pinch your nipples tight.”
She moaned. “They’re plenty tight, believe me.”
“I want to feel them.”
“Don’t you dare.” Panic sparked, but it couldn’t compete with the humming in her veins.
“I want to feel all of you, Loralai. Stretched on top of me. Sprawled beneath me—”
“I want that, too. But…here we are. At your company dinner.”
He let out a low groan. “And how close are you to coming?”
“So very.”
He guided her into a slightly quicker sway. To the casual observer, were anyone able to see her, she had no doubt she appeared to just be moving to the beat of the instrumental renditions of Christmas music that flowed from the house speakers, while Tague remained perfectly still, just leading her through the evocative tempo.
But the steady rhythm had L.L.’s pussy clenching and releasing as the silky pearls massaged her sensitive flesh.
“You’re captivating no matter what the circumstance,” he told her. “But when you’re giving into passion…You are damn spectacular, Loralai. I can’t take my eyes off you. Can’t get enough of you.”
The ripples of orgasm made her breath catch as much as Tague’s intense gaze. She held it as his hands clasped her firmly, possessively. He was so hard against her ass that it pushed her up, up, up, along with the tantalizing teasing of the pearls.
“Tague,” she whispered. “I’m going to come.”
“I wish my hands were on your naked body,” he told her.
“The way you’re watching me is about to send me over the edge. I—oh, God. I—” Her butt ground against his crotch. A strangled sound feel from his lips. She shattered.
Silently, for the most part. A small whimper escaped her as she dropped her chin to conceal the change in her visage as the erotically delicious sensations rushed through her.
“Damn it,” he said against the side of her throat, his warm breath teasing her skin. “I wanted to see your face, your eyes.”
“I didn’t want anyone else to see.”
He wrapped his arms around her, holding her as she trembled.
“You make me so fucking hot,” he told her.
“This is dangerous, Tague.” L.L. honestly had no idea how she’d make it through the dinner. “I need to feel you inside me again.”
But then there was a gentle chime that signaled the food was ready to be served, so they couldn’t slip away to the suite Tague had booked.
L.L. said, “I have to step into the ladies’ room before we’re seated.”
He released her, though his hand moved to the small of her back as he guided her to the facilities. Just feeling his heated touch on her bare skin kept her sexually charged, the orgasm only slightly taking the edge off.
She wanted him. Desperately.
“I’ll wait here for you,” he told her when they reached the door.
L.L. hit one of the stalls to clean up, then she washed her hands and was in the middle of powdering her nose and still-rosy cheeks, when she got another jolt—and not the electrifying type Tague evoked.
“I was beginning to think the two of you were fused at the hip,” came June Mason’s haughty voice.
L.L. glanced up and their gazes met in the mirror before her. “Your son is a remarkable man.”
“Yes, I know.” She whipped out a tube of lipstick and dotted her bottom lip, then rubbed both of them together. “His father and I have very high expectations of him.”
“I’m sure he always exceeds them.”
“Mm,” was all she said as she once again eyed L.L. critically. “That’s a lovely bracelet you’re wearing. A gift from Tague?”
“Why would you assume that?”
With her smug smile, June said, “The mall-bought earrin
gs with the dress. Borrowed is it?”
“The dress is Prada,” L.L. assured her, through clenched teeth. “Not borrowed.”
“Well, it’s quite exquisite with your figure. I can see where my son would be so taken with you.”
“And I’ve left him waiting. If you’ll excuse me.” L.L. turned to go, but didn’t even make it to the door before Tague’s mother got in another barb.
“I’m afraid his interests lie elsewhere, my dear. I wouldn’t get too comfortable as his ‘date’. Or being the recipient of his generosity.”
L.L. no longer let anyone get the best of her. Meg and Jace wouldn’t have stood for it. Perhaps Tague wouldn’t, either.
Over her shoulder, she said to June, “He is generous. Intelligent. Strong. Clearly his own man, one who makes his own decisions, determines his own destiny.” She smiled brightly. “Like I said. Remarkable.”
She continued on her way. Found Tague standing where she’d left him, looking impatient.
“I tried to stall her as long as possible,” he said without preamble.
“Don’t worry about it.” L.L. kissed his cheek. “I don’t give a fuck, remember?”
27
He told her, “I can see differently. You’re incredibly tense.”
And her stomach was knotted again. But Tague had warned her from the beginning that his parents wouldn’t approve her, because she wasn’t a part of their elitist world. So there really was no winning them over. She just had to focus on what truly was important this evening—being with Tague.
He took her hand. “Let’s grab another glass before we sit.”
The others were just starting to make their way to the three long tables, each one already headed by the owners of Mason, Hoffman & Stein. June swept past Tague and L.L. and joined her husband. Unfortunately, the seating arrangements put Tague at his father’s right, with L.L. sitting next to him, diagonal to June, on Harper’s left.
L.L. tried to relax. She sipped as the table slowly filled. Once everyone was settled, Harper stood and tapped his knife against his water goblet to silence the room. Then he launched into firm business, centered around profit margins, grand successes—including his son’s—and the annual bonuses. Finally, he toasted his partners, the associates, the staff. A rousing wave of applause ensued.
When he took his seat, L.L.’s apprehension returned, because she knew June would engage her and Tague in conversation. And the matriarch would no doubt be on the lookout for any sort of underhanded comment she could make about L.L., who slid her gaze to Helena, across the table. Her friend appeared equally concerned, likely given their near-miss earlier when they’d been discussing the naughty fetish she shared with Chip.
Without fail, June asked over the starter of duck confit, “How did you and Tague meet, Miss Branson?
“Loralai is fine,” she politely said. “And Tague and I met through Chip.”
June’s attention turned to the man next to her. “I was just with your parents at the country club last night, Chip. Your mother has apparently found the perfect venue for her annual New Year’s Eve party, and we’ll all be ringing in the New Year in Vienna this time.”
“It’s a mansion about to go on the market for thirty-million euros,” Chip confirmed. “The owner’s a family friend, and he volunteered the place for the big hurrah, in hopes of immediately snagging a buyer.”
“Well, we’re all looking forward to it. Your mother is a fabulous hostess.” Shifting her gaze to her son, she asked, “You will be in attendance, won’t you?”
“I never miss the McAllisters’ parties.”
“Wonderful. Your absence would certainly be noted.” She smiled tightly, then her cornflower eyes drifted to L.L. “What is it that you do for a living, dear?”
“I’m a graphic desi—”
“She designs adult toys,” Tague interjected.
L.L. gaped. Wrung her linen napkin in her lap as a jarring dose of holy shit, did he really just say that? shot through her.
June’s hand froze mid-way to her mouth and the duck fell from her fork.
Despite her consternation, L.L. had to bite back a grin at the graceless mishap.
It took Tague’s mother a few moments to compose herself. She swallowed hard. Lowered her fork. Speared L.L. with the sort of look that made her want to crawl under the table. But L.L. kept her chin lifted.
“I don’t understand,” June said in an agitated voice.
“Sex toys, Mother,” Tague clarified.
“Is that just the most incredible job ever?” gushed Sofia Halston, one of the female associates sitting close by. “When I first met L.L., I thought she was just teasing Chip about the whole concept, but then I saw some of her designs—and all of her clients are famous! What an amazingly clever entrepreneur.” Sofia’s dark brown eyes warmed.
L.L. knew the young attorney had a slight infatuation with her, had admitted it on a casual lunch outing. She’d also hired L.L. to fabricate a three-way stimulating vibrator for her.
June was visibly confused. Indisputably distressed. “I—I just—I don’t… I don’t understand,” she stammered. Her bewildered gaze landed on her husband.
Harper scowled at his son. “This is hardly appropriate dinner conversation.”
Sofia couldn’t contain her enthusiasm. “But L.L.’s clients are international superstars. Royals, even. Though she won’t tell me which ones are her customers. I’m dying to know if the Queen of England has her own toy. Or Charles and Camilla. Don’t they seem like a frigid couple on the outside, who secretly get their kink-on in the bedroom?”
“Sofia!” June hissed out, aghast. While the others chuckled. Save for Harper Mason, of course.
The female attorney didn’t look the least bit fazed, or contrite. She simply added, “Honestly, it’s not every day you meet someone with such a creative and fun career—am I right?”
“Thank you,” L.L. told her.
“Well.” June shook her head as though to clear it of unpleasant thoughts. And she quite obviously found L.L. unsavory. Next, she singled out Helena. “Do you work as well?” she asked in a tentative voice, apparently uncertain she wanted to know the answer after posing the question to L.L.
Helena gave a pretty smile and said, “I owe several spas. Two in the city, one on Long Island and two upstate.”
This piqued June’s interest. She sipped her cocktail, likely to rid herself of the bad taste in her mouth left by the previous conversation. She dismissed L.L. entirely. Was much more congenial with Helena as they discussed all things spa-related, but that was likely because Helena wasn’t dating her son.
Tague placed a hand on L.L.’s thigh and leaned toward her, whispering, “It’ll all be fine. Don’t worry about any of this.”
She strove for nonchalance, but fell a bit short. Fortunately, as Harper engaged Tague in shop talk, Sofia chatted up L.L. during dinner.
It was the world’s longest five-course meal, yet a tad less painful since June continued to outright ignore L.L. Tague’s mother probably considered her a novelty and had already convinced herself that Tague would see the error of his ways and not bring L.L. around again. Certainly not to the McAllisters’ New Year’s Eve party in Vienna.
Dessert was followed by dancing. Tague insisted when the band played a slow song. L.L. gave him the evil eye as he pulled back her chair and offered his hand. She had no delusions as to how stimulating the combination of the pearl thong and being in Tague’s arms would be.
“Again…so very dangerous,” she murmured.
28
She stood, anyway.
Tague’s laugh was low and sexy. “I like your kind of danger.”
He whisked her off to the crowded dance floor. L.L. had had a slight reprieve from the pearls during the meal, although she’d felt them when she’d shifted in her seat or crossed her legs. And her desire for Tague certainly hadn’t diminished the tiniest bit. When he pulled her close to him, she was insanely aroused.
Their clasp
ed hands rested against his brick wall of a chest. They moved together as though they’d shared a hundred dances.
L.L. was acutely aware of him. The feel of his body. His searing heat. His fingertips seductively caressing her bare back.
Her eyelids drifted closed and she inhaled deeply. Held the scent of him inside her for a brief period, then slowly exhaled.
“Damn, you smell good,” she told him.
His warm lips brushed her temple as he murmured, “This is the ultimate torture for me. I want you, baby.”
“Have you put in enough time here?”
“With almost everyone on the dance floor, it’s the perfect opportunity to slip out.”
She opened her eyes and stared up at him. “Then let’s get the hell out of here. I’m about to come again.”
Desire flared in his dark eyes. “The gift that keeps giving.”
She grinned. “It’s not just the pearls, Tague. You set me off.”
His jaw worked for a few seconds as his midnight irises burned with an intense yearning. “I want you to know that you did a great job tonight. You handled all of this really well.”
“Wasn’t so difficult once your mother stopped speaking to me.”
“That was helpful.”
“Is that why you told her what I do? I mean, it was a bit of shock even to me when you blurted it.”
“I didn’t do it for shock value. I wanted the truth on the table so no one ever thinks we tried to cover it up. Your career choice doesn’t bother me in the least, and it has no impact on me, so I see no point in skirting the subject. In fact, I would have defended you, except that Sofia jumped right in to do it. That actually proved invaluable.”
He disentangled himself from her, but kept her hand in his as he led her toward the door. He gave their coat-check claim ticket to an awaiting hotel staff member and they said a few goodbyes while the garments were retrieved.