by JB Salsbury
“I usually only got a minute or two before she’d wake up. It was as if she could sense me, even in her sleep, like my very presence triggered an internal alarm system that told her to get away. She would make me go back to my bed. Some nights I’d be so angry and desperate I’d refuse to leave.” My humorless laughter breaks with emotion. “She would get sick of telling me to get out, and she’d go sleep on the couch. She’d rather sleep on the couch than with her own daughter.”
“Baby . . .” he whispers and kisses my head.
“The saddest part is that those nights were the best. I got to sleep the rest of the night surrounded by her smell. I would wrap myself up tight in her sheets and pretend they were her arms. I’d bury my face in her pillow, smelling her shampoo and night cream.”
Hot tears drip from my jaw, and Jonah’s arms tighten on my waist.
“Anyway, that’s the reason I listen to old music. All those old tapes were my mom’s. I took them when I left. I knew she’d be mad, but I also knew she wouldn’t come for them.” I wipe my cheeks and sniff. “Listening to this music, the music she had playing every day of my entire life, it’s the only way I can be close to her.”
The pressure at my waist is released and he turns me to him. I keep my eyes focused on his chest, not ready to confront the look on his face. His fingers beneath my chin pull my gaze to his. Bending down, his lips softly brush against mine and stay there as he speaks.
“Baby, I promise you that you’ll never want for physical contact again.” His big, strong hands hold my head and he leans his forehead against mine. “I’ll always hold you when you’re scared.” He softly kisses my jaw. “Comfort you when you’re sad.” His lips brush against my cheeks. “Take care of you when you’re sick.” Tilting my head back, he kisses my forehead. He bends down and his hazel eyes narrow into mine. “I’ll make it my life’s mission to make up for every second you were neglected.”
I’m captivated by his stare, which, like his hold on my heart, doesn’t let go. I suck in a ragged breath, overcome with emotion.
“I know I say this all the time, but I love you, Jonah. So much.”
“I love you too, baby. Thank you for telling me about your mom. There’s nothing you need to keep from me. I want to know you, even the stuff you’re not proud of.”
“Okay.”
“My gorgeous girl and her ‘okays.’”
I bury my face in his chest, feeling lighter, having released a heavy burden from my past and placed it on the strong, capable shoulders of the amazing man before me.
“Now, as far as the formal dinner tonight goes? You have nothing to worry about. I won’t leave your side, not even for a second.” His dimples slowly appear as a smile creeps across his face. “I’ll even take you to the bathroom with me.” He kisses my neck. “That might actually make this stupid dinner worth going to.”
I exhale as his playful words bring me peace. And the visual of Jonah and I having bathroom sex also helps to chase away the last of my nerves.
“I can’t wait to see you in the dress you picked up.”
I roll my eyes, remembering the day he shoved two thousand dollars cash into my backpack to shop. I planned on not using it, until I realized how expensive good formalwear is. I used all of it.
“Besides, if anyone should be worried, it’s me,” he says.
My brows pinch together and I study his smoldering eyes. “Why would you worry?”
“I gotta worry about all the assholes who’ll be sniffing around you all night. Pretty sure beating someone’s ass at this dinner in front of all the bigwigs would be frowned upon.”
He’s all dimples and beautiful white teeth as he looks from my eyes to my lips. My heart beats wildly and desire floods my veins. I lick my lips in anticipation and run my hands over his muscular chest, thumbing his nipples through his shirt. Feeling the sinewy ripples of his chest, I imagine his naked torso above me. Heat ignites my blood and flips my belly. I look up at him from under my eyelashes.
His smile fades and his eyebrows arch. “Again?”
It hasn’t even been a week since I lost my virginity to Jonah, but my appetite for him is insatiable. I can’t get enough, and from the frequency of our lovemaking, neither can he.
“Well, I guess if you don’t want to, I can just go back to working on the Impala,” I say teasingly.
I shift out of his hands and take a step backwards. He hauls me to his torso with a growl, his mouth at my ear.
“Oh, I want to. Seeing you out here, bent over this car, your sexy ass in those short shorts . . .” His words are lost as he possesses my mouth. He bites my lip and I moan against him. “That’s my girl.”
Bending down, he puts his big shoulder to my stomach and grabs me behind my knees. In one quick move, I’m thrown over his shoulder.
“Jonah!”
He smacks me on the bottom, and my mouth slams shut. I allow the sensations to penetrate my body.
Why does that feel so good?
~*~
Jonah
“It’s six twenty-five, babe. You about ready?” I call out to my bathroom door, the same bathroom door I’ve been talking to for over an hour.
Raven locked herself in there with her dress and a bag full of girl crap and hasn’t come out since. I’ve heard all manner of sounds coming from the other side, but still haven’t gotten even the slightest peek at my girl.
“Okay. One more second.” She’s been telling me one more second for the past fifteen minutes.
I turn toward my full-length mirror to straighten my tie. Slipping my finger beneath the collar, I give it a yank, hoping to give my neck some relief. Monkey suits and a heavyweight’s body do not mix. Even custom made, they feel like a glorified straight jacket. I lift my arms and bring them to cross at my chest. The fabric stretches to its limit making me claustrophobic. I can’t wait to get this night over with.
The sound of something hitting the bathroom floor gets my attention.
“Shoot! I’m okay!”
I press my ear to the door. “You sure?”
“Yes, I just . . . um, these shoes are really high and your tile is slippery.”
It’s not right, but the thought of Raven, as hot and graceful as she is, sliding around off balance in the bathroom, makes me laugh.
“Are you ready? I’m coming out,” she says, a nervous tremor in her voice.
There’s a click from the lock, and I step back. The door slowly opens and the bright light from the bathroom bathes Raven’s silhouette in an ethereal glow.
Holy shit. My jaw drops and I stare in awe.
She’s dressed in a light purple, floor-length gown that has a slit all the way up the side. Standing with one leg slightly cocked, her entire upper thigh is exposed. My gaze follows the line of her tan leg to the sexiest pair of strappy silver stilettos. The dress is hot, but my mind imagines her in nothing but those shoes. I open my mouth to tell her how beautiful she looks, but the sight of her breasts robs me of the words—their full swells pushed up in offering, begging for my lips. My mouth goes dry.
“Do I look okay?” She runs her palms down the front of her dress self-consciously. Typical Raven. An absolute knockout and she has no idea.
“Baby, you’re a vision. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in all my life.”
Her eyes look down the length of her body then lock on mine. “Thank you.” She takes a step towards me then freezes mid-step. “Oh, you haven’t seen the back yet.”
The back? There’s no way the back could be better than what I’m looking at right now.
Her eyes sparkle and she gives me a mischievous grin. Slowly, she turns and my breath catches in my throat.
There is no back.
The birds in her tattoo fly in formation from her hip to her shoulder for all to see. Her hair is tied up loosely in an elegant, messy mass of shiny dark locks, giving me an unobstructed view. My eyes travel the expanse to the two dimples visible above her perfect ass. I reach down to adjust myself in my pants. Sudd
enly my collar isn’t the only thing that’s tight.
Placing her hand on her cocked hip, she looks over her shoulder. “You like?”
“I . . . uh, yeah.” I clear my throat. “I more than l-like. It’s . . . You’re amazing. You l-look.” To save myself from further embarrassment due to my sudden case of stutter-mouth, I shut up.
Stepping to her, I start at her hip and run my finger along the path of her tattoo. Mesmerized by the softness of her skin, I watch tiny goose bumps follow the line of my finger. I press my lips to her shoulder. She drops her head to the side, exposing the full length of her neck. I ghost a kiss against her skin, followed by my tongue. The combination of her sweet taste and pear smell makes me hungry for what’s beneath the dress. My teeth scrape along her sensitive throat, and I bite with gentle pressure. She leans back and a moan bubbles up from her chest, escaping her lips in a purr.
“You are absolutely gorgeous,” I whisper against the spot where I bit her.
“Mmm, thank you.” Her voice has taken on a breathy quality that has me straining against my slacks. “You look very handsome too. I like the black on black. It reminds me of Clark Kent.”
I kiss her neck once more, and pull back. “Clark Kent? He was a dorky news reporter. He wore starched white shirts with bow ties and shit. I think he even sported a pocket protector.”
Giggling, she turns to face me. It’s then that I notice her face. She usually wears minimal makeup, but tonight it’s heavier in all the right places. Her eyes are rimmed with a smoky color that highlights the aquamarine. Her cheeks dusted with pink, and her lips. Holy hell. Those lips.
“Wait, I thought Clark Kent was the hot one.”
I’m focused on her shimmering, pink glossed mouth as she talks.
“You know the one who wears black all the time and drives the cool car?”
“Huh?” I swallow hard, caught up in the sensory overload that Raven is dishing out in buckets.
She places her soft hand against my cheek. “Um . . . Clark Kent?”
Fuck, that’s right. I forgot what we were talking about.
“Bruce Wayne, baby. Batman.”
“Yes! You’re right. Bruce Wayne. He’s the hot one that all the girls—”
I can’t take it anymore and crash my lips against hers. Her blatant sex appeal and childlike innocence does me in. Her lip gloss tastes like marshmallow and her mouth like peppermint. I suck at her lips, and she buries her hands in my hair, holding me to her.
My girl.
I run my hands over the dress, feeling her nipples pucker beneath the fabric. My hands grip at it with impatience, gently tugging, knowing what’s underneath is so much softer. There’s no way we’re going to dinner. Nothing is as important to me in this moment than getting my girl naked underneath me.
“Jonah,” she says breathlessly between kisses.
“Mmm?”
“The door.”
“Hmm?”
“The doorbell’s ringing. Our ride’s here.”
“Don’t give a shit,” I growl and walk her backwards towards my bed.
Her legs hit the bed, stopping our progression. I hold her hips and grind my now painfully hard erection against her. She tilts her head and deepens the kiss. Fuck yeah. My girl, always so ready.
My phone is ringing in my pocket and the doorbell won’t quit. I groan, annoyed, but never give up her mouth. This is happening. Now.
She laughs and presses her palms against my chest. Reluctantly, I pull back.
“Jonah, we need to stop.” Her raspy voice and traveling hands betray her words.
“Not going anymore.” I’m kissing her neck at my spot, hoping she gives up on the idea and gets naked soon.
“It’s a limo, right?” There’s a smile in her question.
I step back to meet her eyes. “Yeah, it’s a limo.” I smile. “Why?”
She shrugs her shoulders and drops her face, her cheeks flushed. I hook my fingers beneath her chin and bring her eyes back to mine, lifting my eyebrows.
Is she thinking what I think she’s thinking?
“I just thought it might be . . . um . . . fun, you know? To make out in a limo?”
My body hums with excitement at the prospect of getting dirty with Raven in the backseat of a chauffeured vehicle.
I grab her hand and lead her to the front door. “Fine. But we’re leaving right after dinner and picking up where we left off.”
“Sounds good to me,” she says through her giggles.
***
“Mr. Slade, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” the limo driver says while looking at us from the rearview mirror. “I’ve been following your career for years.”
Ah, shit. I’m presented with the opportunity to shove my hand up Raven’s dress in a moving vehicle, and we get chatty Charles the limo driver.
“Thanks, man. I appreciate your support.”
Raven rubs my thigh with soothing strokes, and I consider moving her hand up six inches. Would Charles even notice? Nah.
“That fight in ’07 against Hollander was incredible. How long had you been with the UFL when you fought him?”
I groan and curse the fact that I represent more than myself at times like these, but also my training team and the UFL. “Four ye—”
“Four years! That’s how many. And three years before that you were undefeated against Santoro!” He slaps his steering wheel, his booming laughter filling the length of the car.
“Yeah, look we were hoping for a little private time to talk about some things. Do you think we could put up the privacy wall, so—”
“My cousin Junior is training with an MMA fighting league in San Antonio. He’s been . . .”
Charles goes on and on, but my focus is on my girl whose face is bright red from holding back laughter. Hardy fucking har har.
I decide I’ve heard enough from Charles and tell him we’ll continue after the dinner, but that I need some fucking alone time with my date. Shit.
Privacy window up and finally alone, I’m assaulted by her smell. I practically attack her, not that she’s complaining. I almost get my hand up her dress when the limo lurches to a stop. Shit!
I tell Charles we need five minutes. Raven checks her face in a mirror, and I think about everything except what I’ll be doing to her later tonight. Great, now I’m thinking about it again.
“You about done? If’ I don’t get out of here soon, I’ll finish what I started.”
She gives me a sexy smile and tucks a couple loose strands of hair back into place. “I’m ready.”
I laugh, shaking my head at her mixed message reply.
We exit the limo, and holding hands, we walk through Mandalay Bay Hotel’s casino to the elevators. Raven fidgets at my side as photographers snap pictures and people start to gather.
“You look gorgeous, baby.” I try to take her mind off being the center of attention to a bunch of strangers. She blushes and holds my hand tighter.
This dinner is held on the sixty-fourth floor of the hotel in a swanky restaurant called Mix. As soon as we exit the elevator, we’re greeted by an older gentleman in a tuxedo.
“Ah, Mr. Slade. Your party is expecting you. If you’ll follow me, I’ll escort you and Miss . . .”
Her hand locks mine in a death grip.
“Raven,” I say.
“Of course, Mr. Slade. Miss Raven. Please follow me.”
Releasing her firm grip, she leans into my shoulder. “Thank you.” Her whispered words are only for my ears.
I lift her hand, kiss her knuckles, and give her a wink. She never tells people her last name, afraid of being associated with Dominick. His name circulates among the richest of Vegas’s philanderers. And a high-end place like this is bound to be familiar with the name if not the man himself.
We’re led into a private dining room in the back of the restaurant. It’s packed with roughly thirty people from the organization. I feel Raven’s hesitation as we step into the crowd. I spot Owen and Nikki across the ro
om and decide to stick close to them so that Raven will have someone to talk to.
Different people greet me with handshakes and hellos, but all their eyes are on my girl. This is going to be a long fucking night.
Twenty-four
Raven
I’m at one of the fanciest restaurants in town, I arrived by limo, and I’m wearing an outfit that cost more than I make in a month, bought for me by my rich boyfriend.
I’m Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman.
How appropriate.
No, Cinderella. I’m Cinderella out with my Prince Charming. Although, I’m pretty sure my Prince Charming would kick the real Prince Charming’s butt in a fistfight. And now my nerves are setting up imaginary fights between cartoon characters.
Well, at least it’s taking my mind off the fact that I’m totally out of my element. I may as well have written I don’t belong on my forehead in black eyeliner. Everyone here is either rich, famous, influential, or a combination of all three. I need to pull it together.
I jump as Jonah places his hand on my back. I look up to see a tall man with sandy blond hair and blue eyes eyeing me.
“Raven, this is Taylor Gibbs, the owner of the UFL.”
I gather my social graces. I’ve never seen so many high-powered people in one room. The place is practically vibrating with egos and money.
“Mr. Gibbs, it’s nice to meet you. Thank you for having me.”
“Raven, it’s a pleasure.”
He reaches out to shake the hand I’ve extended. Jonah tenses and pulls me closer to him, tucking me deep into his side. Mr. Gibbs brings my offered hand to his mouth, kissing it softly.
I press deeper into Jonah at the gesture. No one’s touch feels welcome, except Jonah’s. To keep from embarrassing him in front of his boss, I put on a brave face.
“I’m glad you could make it, Raven.” His glare zeros in on Jonah and a whisper of tension charges the air between them.
My eyes dart back and forth between the two.
Jonah’s brooding is directed at his boss. Mr. Gibbs smirks at me and releases my hand. I bring it immediately to Jonah’s abdomen, hoping that the touch will help shake the creepy from my hand.
Mr. Gibbs starts in with Jonah about who he needs to touch base with at the party when a man walks up behind him. He’s as big as Jonah in height and width, but where Jonah’s ferocity is inviting, this man’s is terrifying. He has dark hair and eyes that look almost black. His face is held in a permanent scowl with a scar over his left eye and one at his chin. He stalks toward us with the grace of a rhino.