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One Night Stand Bride

Page 12

by Kat Cantrell


  Instead of shooting her a salacious grin that communicated all the naughty thoughts in his mind, he pulled her into a shadowy alcove away from the crush. Oh, this had possibilities. The area wasn’t enclosed, but could be considered private. Emboldened, she slipped the button free on his tux jacket, gauging exactly how much cover it might provide if he had a mind to get handsy.

  That got her a smile, but without much carnal heat laced through it. No worries. She could get him hot and bothered pretty quickly and let her fingers do some walking. But he just laced his fingers with hers and pulled them free of his body.

  “Roz, come on.”

  That didn’t sound like the precursor to a hot round of mutual orgasmic delight. “I’m trying to, but you’re not helping any.”

  “Why do we always have to have sex in public?”

  Agape, she stared at him. “I must not be doing it right if you have to ask that question.”

  “I’m being serious.” Their fingers were still entwined and he brought one to his mouth to kiss the back of her hand tenderly. “There’s no one on earth who gets me more excited than you. We’re not talking about whether or not you have the ability to get me off, but why you’re trying to do it in the middle of my mother’s fundraiser.”

  Guilt put her back up. “I guess the thrill is gone. And so early in our marriage, too. I thought that didn’t wear off until at least after the first year.”

  He rolled his eyes. “I literally just told you this is not a conversation about how much I desire you. I’m trying to figure out why you have a seemingly self-destructive need to have sex in public. That’s what got us into this marriage in the first place.”

  So now all this was her fault? “There were two people in that hot tub, Hendrix.”

  “Willingly,” he threw in far too fast and that pissed her off, too. “I’m not pushing blame onto you. I wasn’t saying no as you pulled me into that closet at the wedding. But I am right now. Wait.”

  He tightened his grip on her fingers as he correctly guessed she was about to storm off to...somewhere that she hadn’t quite worked out yet.

  “Sweetheart, listen to me.”

  And she was so out of sorts that she did, despite knowing in her marrow she wasn’t going to like what he had to say.

  “You want me so badly that you can’t wait?” he asked. “That’s great. I want you like that, too. The problem is that we both use that heat as a distraction. From life, from... I don’t know. Crap going on inside. Whatever it is, I don’t want to do that anymore.”

  The earnestness in his expression, his tone, in the very stroke of his fingers over hers bled through her, catching on something so deep inside that it hurt. “I don’t do that.”

  He didn’t even have the grace to go along with the lie. “You do. We’re cut from the same cloth. Why do you think we were both so willing to go through with this marriage? We understand each other.”

  Oh, God. That was so true it nearly wrenched her heart from its mooring. If he made her cry, she was never going to forgive him. She’d spent thirty minutes on her makeup. “What are you saying?”

  His smile did nothing to fix the stuff raging through her chest. “I’m saying let’s take our sex life behind closed doors. Permanently. Let’s make it about us. About discovering what we can be to each other besides a distraction.”

  “So there’s no more chance of public humiliation, you mean?”

  He shook his head, dashing the out she’d handed him. “No. Well, I mean, yes, of course that is a very good side benefit. But I’m talking about removing the reasons why we’re both so good at creating scandals. Stop avoiding intimacy and get real with me. At home.”

  That was the worst idea she’d ever heard in her life. “You first.”

  He nodded. “I’m at the head of the line, sweetheart. Get in the queue behind me and let’s do this ride the way it was intended.”

  Her lungs hitched. “You’re not just talking about laying down a new no-sex-in-public rule. Are you?”

  “I don’t know what I’m talking about.” He laughed self-consciously, finally releasing her fingers to run a hand through his hair. “All I know is that my mom asked me to get married so her campaign wouldn’t take a hit and all I could think about was getting you into bed again. Then we made a mutual decision that sex was off the table until after the ceremony. It really made me think about who I want to be when I grow up. An oversexed player who can’t control himself? I don’t want to be that guy. Not with you.”

  Stunned, she blinked up at him but his expression didn’t waver. He was serious about making changes and somehow, she was wrapped in the middle of all of it. Like maybe he wanted to be a better person because of her. That was... She didn’t know what that was, had no experience with this kind of truth.

  “So where does that leave us?” she whispered.

  He tilted his head until their foreheads touched. “A married couple who’s expected at a fundraiser. Can we get through that and then we’ll talk?”

  She nodded and the motion brought his head up just at the right angle to join their lips. The kiss had nothing to do with sex, nothing to do with heat. It was a sweet encapsulation of the entire conversation. A little tender, a little confused and so much better than she’d have ever dreamed.

  Somehow, she floated along behind him as he led her back into the fray and the fact that they hadn’t gotten naked meant something significant. Hell if she knew what. Later tonight, maybe she’d get a chance to find out.

  * * *

  Turned out that Roz hadn’t actually needed the orgasm to relax after all. Hendrix held her hand like he’d promised and generally stuck by her side through the whole of the fundraiser. The evening wound to a close without one snide comment being wafted in her direction. Whether that was because Hendrix had studiously kept her far away from her father—a fact she couldn’t help but notice and appreciate—or because the marriage had really worked to soften society’s opinion toward them, she couldn’t say.

  Ultimately, the only thing that mattered was that she ended the evening on a high she hadn’t felt in a long time. Not even sex could compete with the burst of pure gratitude racing through her veins as the limo wheeled them toward Hendrix’s house. Their house. It was technically theirs, for now, as he was sharing it with her. No harm in claiming it as such, right?

  “I think that was a success, don’t you, Mr. Harris?” she commented as he held the door open for her to precede him.

  He shut it with a resounding click. “I’m sorry, I missed everything you just said outside of ‘Mr. Harris,’” he murmured and propelled her up the stairs with insistent hands on her hips.

  She let him because it suited her to get to a place where they could pick up their discussion from earlier. “You like it when I call you Mr. Harris? I can do that a whole bunch more.”

  “I insist that you do.”

  Once in the bedroom he sat her down on the bed, knelt at her feet and took enormous care with removing her shoes, unbuckling the straps with painstakingly slow pulls, watching her as he did it. His gaze flickered as he finally slipped off one shoe and then the other. He lifted her arch to his mouth, kissing it sensuously.

  It was such an unexpected move that something akin to nerves popped up, brewing inside until she had to say something to break the weird tension.

  “We got through the fundraiser,” she said. “Is this the part where we’re going to talk?”

  “Uh-huh,” he purred against her foot and dragged his lips up her leg.

  It happened to the be the one revealed by the slit that opened almost all the way to her hipbone, so he had a lot of real estate to cover. Her flesh heated under his mouth, sending an arrow of desire through her core.

  “First,” he said. “I’m going to tell you how absolutely wild you drive me. Are you listening?�


  He nibbled at the skin of her thigh and slid a hand up the inside of her dress, exactly as she’d imagined he would—at the table while they were eating dinner. She’d envisioned it being a huge turn-on to have his hands under her dress while they were sitting there with members of high society, especially given how sanctimonious they’d all been about the photograph. And Hendrix had taken that possibility off the table and opened up a whole different world at the same time.

  This wasn’t a turn-on because she was putting one over on the high and mighty. It was a turn-on because of the man doing the caressing. Exactly as he’d suggested, taking their sex life behind closed doors put a sheen on the encounter that she couldn’t recall ever having felt before.

  “I hear you,” she whispered. “Tell me more.”

  His fingers slid higher, slowly working their way toward the edge of her panties and then dipping underneath the hem to knuckle across her sex. She gasped as the contact sang through her, automatically widening her legs to give him plenty of access.

  “Wild.” He gathered her dress in one hand as he slid up the other leg to bunch the red silk at her thighs. “Do you have any concept of how difficult it was to tell you no at the fundraiser?”

  “Seemed pretty easy to me,” she mumbled and immediately felt like a selfish shrew. “But I’m sure it wasn’t.”

  “No,” he agreed far too graciously instead of calling her on her cattiness like he should have. “I carried around a boner for at least half the time. This dress...” He heaved a lusty sigh as he trailed a finger from the fabric gathered over her shoulder down over her breasts, which tightened deliciously from no more than that light touch. “I’m going to have to do this the right way.”

  “Because you have such a habit of doing it wrong?” she suggested sarcastically.

  “I mean, I can’t take it off. Not yet.” He speared her with a glance so laden with heat and implications that her core went slick and achy instantly, even before he put his hands under the skirt and hooked her underwear, drawing off the damp scrap to toss it over his shoulder.

  Pulling her to the edge of the bed, he spread her thighs and treated her to the deepest, wettest French kiss imaginable. A moan escaped her throat as he lit her up from the inside out, heat exploding along her skin as Hendrix set fire to every inch of her body. He closed his eyes as he pleasured her and she could scarcely look away from the raw need plastered all over his face.

  It should be the other way around. He had his mouth on her in the most intimate of kisses, and she felt herself coming apart as she watched his tongue swirl through her folds. His fingers twined through the silk of her dress, the one he’d given her as a sweet, unexpected gift, and that gave everything a significance she scarcely understood.

  The release rolled through her, made so much more powerful by the fact that he was letting her see how much she affected him. He was still telling her how wild he was over her, and she was still listening. When she came, she cried out his name, hands to his jaw because she couldn’t stand not touching him as her flesh separated from her bones, breaking her into a million unrecoverable pieces.

  His eyes blinked open, allowing him to witness it as she slid into oblivion and it was a horrible shame that he wasn’t right there with her. She wanted that, wanted to watch him come apart with abandon.

  “Make love to me,” she murmured and guided his lips to hers for a kiss that tasted like earth and fire. It was elemental in all its glory and she wanted more.

  He got out of his clothes fast enough to communicate how much he liked that suggestion but when he reached for her, she pulled him onto the bed in the same position she’d just been in and straddled him, still wearing the dress.

  “I might never take it off again,” she informed him as she settled against his groin, teasing him with her still-damp core. Hard, thick flesh met hers and she wanted him with a fierceness she could hardly contain.

  He groaned as she arched her back, thrusting her covered breasts against his chest. “It feels divine.”

  And that was enough of a recommendation for her to keep going, exactly like this. She pulled a condom from the gathered place at her waist, which she’d stashed there earlier in hopes of finding a closet at the fundraiser, but this was far better.

  His gaze reflected his agreement, going hot with understanding as he spied the package in her fingers. “I see you attended the fundraiser fully prepared to go the distance.”

  “Yeah. But it’s okay. This is exactly the way our evening was supposed to go.” How he’d converted her, she still didn’t know. But it sure felt like how this ride should be experienced. If it wasn’t, she didn’t want to know about it.

  Condom in place, she slid down until they were joined and he was so deep inside that there was no room for anything else. He captured her gaze and held it for an eternity, even as he slid his arms around her to hold her tight. It was the most intimate position she’d ever been in with another human being and it was so beautiful her heart ached.

  And then it got even better as they moved in tandem in a sensuous rolling rhythm unlike anything she’d ever felt. Her head tipped back as she rode the wave of sensation and Hendrix fused his mouth to her throat, suckling at her skin. He murmured things against it, telling her how much he liked the way she felt, how sexy she was. The pretty words infused her blood, heightening the experience.

  The release split through her body almost before she’d realized it was imminent. It was quieter, deeper than the first one. More encompassing. She let it expand, grabbing on to the sensation because it was something she wanted to savor. Hendrix’s expression went tense with his own release and he drew it out with a long kiss, perfectly in sync with her in a way she knew in her bones would never have happened if they’d banged each other in a closet.

  This was something else, taking their relationship to the next level.

  He picked her up and set her on her feet so he could finally remove the dress and then gathered her into his arms to lay spoon style under the covers. She didn’t resist, couldn’t have. She wanted all of this to be as real as it felt, but as she lay there in the dark listening to her husband breathe, her eyes refused to stay closed.

  None of this was going to last. She’d forgotten that in the midst of letting Hendrix prove they could have a closed-door relationship. She’d forgotten that their marriage had become intimate long before they’d signed any papers and she’d let herself get swept away in the beauty he’d shown her.

  She did use sex as a distraction, as an avoidance tactic. Because she hadn’t wanted to be in this position. Ever. But she’d let him change the dynamic between them.

  They were still getting a divorce. She couldn’t forget that part because it was the theme of her life.

  She lost everything important to her eventually and Hendrix fell into that category just as much as anything else. This wasn’t the start of a new trend. Just the continuation of an old one that was destined to break her heart.

  Nine

  Helene made a rare appearance at the office, bringing a huge catered lunch with her that the employees all appreciated. Hendrix let her have her fun as the company still had her name on it even though she’d transitioned the CEO job to him long ago. As the last of the potato salad disappeared from the break room and the employees drifted back to their desks, Hendrix crossed his arms and leaned back on the counter to contemplate his mom.

  “What gives?” he asked with a chin jerk at the mostly decimated spread. “You get a large donation or something?”

  Her lips curved into the smile that never failed to make him feel like they were a team. At last, it seemed like they were back on solid ground again.

  Sure, she smiled at everyone, because she had the sunniest personality of anyone he’d ever known, but she was still his mom no matter what and he valued their bond more than he could
explain.

  “Paul Carpenter dumped five million in my lap. You didn’t have anything to do with that, did you?”

  He shrugged, wishing he could say it was an act of generosity and that she shouldn’t read anything into it, but odds were good the donation came with strings. Carpenter had another think coming, if so. Having the billionaire as a father-in-law hadn’t checked out like he’d expected. It chafed something fierce to have his hopes realized of being aligned with a powerful old money family, only to find out the patriarch was an ass.

  “Not even close. I don’t like how he treats Roz. If you recall, I might have given him that impression the last time we spoke at the wedding.”

  “Well, he’s not the only one with a giving soul. The fundraiser was a huge success. I came by to thank you for hanging out with us old people.”

  Hendrix snorted. The day Helene could be described as old had yet to come. She had boundless energy, a magnanimous spirit and could still give women half her age a run for their money. “You’re only seventeen years older than me, so you can stop with the old business. And you’re welcome.”

  “You know what this means, right?” Helene eyed him curiously. “Your marriage to Roz worked to smooth over the scandal. My approval ratings are high. Seems like you did it. I don’t know how to say thank you for this enormous sacrifice you made for me.”

  He grinned to cover the slight pulse bobble at what his mother was really saying—he and Roz had reached their goal much faster than originally anticipated. Her speech had all the hallmarks of what you said as something was winding down. And he did not want to think of his marriage that way. “It was really my pleasure.”

  His mom stuck her fingers in her ears in mock exasperation. “I don’t want to know. This time, keep your sex life to yourself.”

  “I’m trying.” And it was working well. So well, he could scarcely believe how easily he’d slid deeper into his relationship with Roz. They fit together seamlessly and it was nearly too good to be true. Far too good to be talking about ending it already. “I really like her.”

 

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