by Odette Stone
“I talk to him all the time.”
Jealous burned my gut. I swallowed, at a loss for words. “If Porter wants this engagement to end, he’d end it.”
Her eyes narrowed, “He’s trapped. You’ve trapped him. He doesn’t feel like he can leave you right now.”
Heat washed over me. She could easily be speaking the truth. The past week, Porter had been all about keeping me safe. Any kind of sexual tension between us had all but evaporated. I could easily imagine him telling her how he felt trapped by me. Trapped by duty. Trapped by the lies I had spun around him.
He’d told me he wasn’t a player. Claimed he was a one-woman kind of guy, but he had given me no reassurances that I was the woman of his affections. I also knew Porter was such a stand-up guy that he’d never willingly abandon me in my current predicament.
The thought made me nauseous. I needed to get his side of the story, but not here. Not with the media and all my parents’ closest friends standing by.
I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin. “I’m at my engagement party. Leave the premises, or I will call security.” I turned my back on her.
Ahead of me, two chefs opened the swinging doors while another one slowly wheeled the giant, tiered cake toward the party. Something soft hit me in the back of the head.
I blinked in disbelief at the soft cream puff lying on the floor. “Did you throw a pastry at me?”
She grabbed another one off the tray and fired it towards me, this time hitting me square in the chest.
I didn’t think. I grabbed a mini lemon custard pie off the tray beside me and threw it at her. I hit her on the shoulder, and lemon custard splashed down her dress with a satisfying thump.
She inspected her stained dress and glared at me. With determination, she fired a strawberry tart at me, which I deflected with my forearm. Strawberry sauce ran down my arm like blood.
I picked up a cannoli, and with the precision of a baseball pitcher, hit her on the top of her forehead. Juicy cream splattered across her face, smearing in her hair.
An indignant noise escaped her. She tossed a peach tart. It skimmed my shoulder, spraying peach compote up my neck. Anger blinded me. I picked up two puffy, cream-filled pastries and stepped forward, dragging both down the front of her dress.
Disbelief coated her eyes. Venom flashing across her delicate features. “You bitch.”
I scoffed. “I’m the bitch? I know exactly how you abandoned Porter.”
She reached out two hands and shoved me. “I told you why I did that. I needed him to know how he felt about us.”
I shoved her back. “If he wanted to be with you, he’d be with you.”
Rage filled her eyes, and she barreled towards me, her entire weight pushing me backwards. For someone so tiny, she had a surprising amount of strength. She caught me off balance and propelled me backwards. To prevent hitting the ground, I stepped back, again and again, unable to catch my balance.
“Look out,” someone said.
My ass hit something, giving me enough stability to grab her shoulders and twist. I flipped her around, and now she was the one flying back, not me. She held onto my shoulders with both hands, pulling me down with her.
In slow motion, we landed on the cake. Felicia was almost lying flat on top of it. Cake and icing spattered out on either side of her. I half fell on top of her, pushing her further down onto the cake.
I reached above her shoulder, trying to find something, anything, to give me enough support to lift myself off her. Instead, my arm sunk up to my elbow in soft cake.
“Get off me you bitch,” she cried. Her hand smeared down my face, dragging the sweet cake and icing across my cheek and mouth.
Using every abdominal muscle I had, I managed to lift myself off her and stand.
“Beth,” Mom cried out.
I froze and lifted my eyes.
We were in the middle of the party.
A hundred guests stood in a circle, looking at us with equal measures of shock and disbelief. Flashes of light blinded my eyes as photographers took multiple pictures of us.
Felicia rolled on her side, across the cake, and managed to stand up herself. Her long, dark hair was now white with frosting. I checked my own dress. Chunks of cake and icing fell in heavy plops at my feet.
Mom stood there with her hands over her mouth. Roo sat on a chair, his head between his legs, his breathing easily mistakable for hyperventilation. The silence deafened as a hundred pairs of eyes watched us.
I cleared my throat. “I apologize for ruining the cake. I know that all of you were looking forward to it.”
Felicia pointed at me. “This woman is a man-stealer. Porter is my boyfriend, and she did everything in her power to break us up.”
Everyone in the room gasped.
“Ex-boyfriend,” I confirmed, my chest heaving with so much adrenaline, yet I still couldn’t get enough oxygen into my lungs.
“I love him.” She spoke to the entire room. “And she stole him from me.”
More gasps came from everyone around the room. Two security guards came rushing into the room. They evaluated Felicia and me, not knowing who they needed to apprehend.
“Don’t look at me,” I warned them.
The two men slowly approached Felicia, flanking her on either side. “Miss, we’re going to have to ask you to leave the premises.”
“Porter!” She twisted around, looking wildly at the crowd. “Baby, come on. You know you love me. The only reason you’re marrying her is for the money.”
The crowd started to whisper and talk amongst themselves. I stood there and watched as they ushered Felicia out, too afraid to look at the expressions of everyone around me. Now I was the only cake-coated person in the room.
I had one option.
I hauled my purse up over my shoulder, and with more dignity than the queen herself, I walked through the parting crowd toward the doors. No one approached me as I made my way down the long hallway.
To my immense relief, a cab was waiting at the bottom of the front steps. Without giving the valet the chance to move, I opened the door of the cab and got in.
“Lady, you can’t get in here with that mess,” the driver barked at me.
“I was in a three-tiered cake fight. With my fiancé’s ex. And she called me a man thief - so I don’t care what you charge me as long as you get. Me. Out. Of. Here.”
And then I burst into tears.
He started to drive.
Chapter 31
With sticky hands, I paid the driver when my door wrenched open. Shocked, I glanced up to see Porter, standing beside the cab.
“Get out,” he demanded.
“You okay?” the cab driver asked uneasily.
“I’m fine.” I stepped out of the cab.
“Why did you leave like that?!” Porter towered over me. His eyes were a flinty cold grey as he rolled his shoulders, emotion interwoven with the tension in his body.
“What?”
His gaze was so angry and frustrated. “You left the party alone.”
“So?”
“You’re not supposed to be alone. I can’t protect you if you take off like that.”
I marched through the lobby of my building and punch the elevator button. “I don’t even know why you’re here.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Felicia!” I yelled.
“What about her?”
I stepped into the elevator and punched my floor button, taking all my anger out on the button. “She told me all about your phone calls. How you want to be with her. How you feel trapped by me. That the only reason you’re with me is that you feel guilty about leaving me.”
Incredulity spread across his features. “And you believed her?”
I got off on my floor and stomped toward my apartment. “Look. I get it. I get how I’ve essentially dragged you into this mess, and now, with everything going on, you feel like it’s your duty to protect me, but it was never supposed to go this
far. You were never supposed to give up your happiness for me.” My hands were shaking so hard, I struggled with the lock.
He took the keys from me and unlocked the door for me. His calmness infuriated me. “I told you. I haven’t talked to Felicia.”
I had believed him before. Exactly like I had believed the lies of my other two cheating ex-boyfriends. But no more. I knew better. If there was smoke, there was usually a fire. I strode into the apartment and headed straight to my bedroom. He followed behind me.
I didn’t turn to look at him. “I’ve seen her call you.”
“So what? She calls me. Have you ever seen me pick up the phone?”
“Like every other guy, you’re smart enough not to pick up in front of me.”
He stepped closer to me. “Is that what this is about?”
This felt like a real relationship and a real fight. Which made no sense, because all of this was supposed to just be pretend. But I couldn’t seem to stop myself.
I was yelling. With real emotion in my voice. “Did you notice the major cake fight I was in with your girlfriend? You keep telling me that you’re not interested in talking with her or being with her, yet she showed up at our party! And she’s pretty convinced that you two are getting back together. Why would she think that if she wasn’t getting some encouragement from you?”
“She’s not my girlfriend, and I haven’t talked to her since we picked up the boxes.”
“I don’t believe you.” I know I sounded like a jealous, insecure girlfriend, but I couldn’t seem to stop the words from pouring out of my mouth. “You’re exactly like every other guy. You want your cake and to eat it too. Well, not with me. You can take your cheating ass and get out.”
“I’m not a cheater.” His nostrils flared. “I’ve never cheated at anything in my entire life.”
“You’re just like every other guy.”
“Take that back.”
“No,” I flung at him. “I should've never trusted you.” I stalked into the bathroom and turned on the shower.
Two strong hands wrapped around my waist and pushed me into the shower, spinning me around. The cold water poured over my head, making me gasp. His mouth covered mine, the contrasting temperatures making his lips feel like fire against mine.
His body pressed my back against the cool tiles of the shower, his hands cupping my face. I moaned into his kiss, loving the taste of him, gasping as his mouth moved down the side of my neck.
“You taste like cake,” he growled.
“Porter,” I managed.
He stepped back and feasted his eyes on me. He had removed his suit jacket, and now, warm water poured over his white dress shirt, showing off his sleek muscles through the wet fabric. “Why do you think I want Felicia?”
I shook my head, uncertain how to respond. He spun me around, so my face pressed against the cold tiles. His hands pulled my dress up over my hips. Breathing hard, a noise escaped me when his fingers pushed beneath my thong and slid along the length of me, teasing me.
“I told you—if we cross that line, you’re mine,” his voice was muffled against my neck. “I also told you I’m a one-woman man.” His teeth grazed my sensitive skin. “Newsflash, Beth. We crossed that line, and now you’re mine."
I couldn’t respond. I was too busy focusing on his fingers that teased my entrance.
“Move your legs apart,” he commanded.
I swallowed and stepped wider, opening myself further to his touch.
“Do you believe me?” He sucked on my neck while his fingers stroked my folds.
My head fell back when his fingertips grazed my clit. Did I believe him? Right now, at this moment, with those fingers touching me, I’d believe anything.
“Oh, yes.” I pressed my hot forehead against the cool wall.
“Turn around.” His fingers disappeared, and he stepped back.
I slowly spun around, so my back pressed against the shower wall. His hair was wet and slicked back off his face, making the angles of his face seem harsh and masculine. He was unbuttoning his dress shirt.
“Take off your dress,” he demanded.
With shaking hands, I reached behind my back and unzipped my dress. I shrugged it off my shoulders, then peeled the wet fabric down my body until it dropped at my feet.
“Get naked,” he instructed, his eyes dark.
I stepped out of my bra and thong and stood there while his grey eyes, full of lust, traveled down my body.
“The things I’m going to do to you…” he promised.
I couldn’t wait.
Chapter 32
“Get on your knees."
I lowered myself to my knees, then looked up at him from the submissive position. He reached out a hand and pushed my wet hair off my face. I reached out, and with unsteady hands, undid the belt on his pants.
He was rock hard, his massive erection jutting against the fabric of his dress pants. I swallowed in anticipation and drew down the zipper of his pants. His huge cock strained against his boxers.
He put a hand under my chin and lifted it up, so I looked up at him. “You’re so mouthy. You know what I want to do to you when you’re so mouthy?”
“What?” I pushed his pants down over his hips. Pushing his boxers down felt like unwrapping a wedding gift.
His cock was a monster. Huge, with a girth that should have scared me. Instead, my stomach clenched in anticipation. I couldn’t wait.
“I want to fill that sweet mouth of yours with my cock until you choke.”
Yes. Me, too.
He kicked off his pants. I grabbed the base of him, my fingers not even coming close to wrapping around it. I pulled it down towards me and drew the tip of him into my mouth. Salty pre-cum leaked out of him, and I shut my eyes and moaned, sucking more of him into my mouth.
“Oh, yeah.” His hand rested on the back of my head, his fingers gathering my wet hair into a makeshift ponytail. “Your mouth feels so fucking hot.”
I worked him over like a professional. My hand pumped the base of his cock while my mouth sucked and my tongue swirled.
“That’s it.” He groaned. “You can take more of me into your sweet mouth. You know you can.”
I strained my jaw, taking more and more of him in until I was almost choking. His strong hands held my head while his hips slowly pumped, pushing himself deeper down my throat.
I moaned, my eyes on his face. Loving this. Why did I love this so much? I wanted more. I wanted to swallow him up. I wanted all of him. I couldn’t get enough.
My whole body trembled in lust. I squeezed the base of his cock harder, massaging his balls gently with my other hand, loving the feeling of his heavy, rigid length gliding against my tongue.
He tugged on my hair, pulling me back. My eyes remained on his face, as my mouth sucked harder, trying to keep him in my mouth, but he tugged himself free.
I eyeballed his cock as it bobbed tantalizingly in front of my face. I strained against his hold on my hair, trying to bring him back into my mouth.
“Stand up,” he demanded.
I didn’t move fast enough for him, and his hands shifted beneath my arms, easily lifting me to my feet. I was weak with lust. So drugged from need that I almost couldn’t stand.
Two big hands pushed my wet hair off my face. “Beth.”
“Yeah?” My eyes clung to his hot gaze.
He was breathing hard, but he easily lifted me up in his arms. My legs wrapped around his waist and my arms wrapped around his thick neck. I gasped when my back hit the cool shower wall. “Tell me you’re on the pill.”
“I am.”
He put his hand between us, positioning himself at my entrance. “I owe you some foreplay.”
I laughed and fisted his hair in my fingers. “Just fuck me already.” My head went back, hitting the wall when he slowly began to push into me.
Yes, oh, yes.
Sensations sparkled up my spine as my body opened to accommodate his enormous length. Our foreheads met, both of
us breathing hard when he pushed balls deep inside me.
“I’ve had a fucking hard on since the day I first saw you.” His mouth moved against mine. I opened my mouth, and we kissed wildly. Sucking and tasting like our lives depended on it.
I lifted my head. “Since the christening?”
He grew even bigger inside me. “No, before that.”
I froze. “Before?”
He stared into my eyes. “I saw you when I landed in New York. Jackson picked me up and dropped Theo’s bag off to Emily. You were there.” He kissed my neck, just below my ear. “So carefree, and so fucking hot.” His rough hand gripped my thighs, running his nails against the sensitive skin. “All legs, begging me to spread them and claim your tight pussy as mine.”
I couldn’t process this, especially with his cock buried deep inside of me.
His teeth grazed my earlobe. “And the christening… the entire time the minister talked, I was doing math equations in my head, trying not to embarrass myself with a raging hard-on.”
I pulled my head back, looking into his eyes. “Are you serious? Why?”
His fingers dug into my ass, lifting me up, and then he was thrusting into me. Yes! God, yes! I clung to his shoulders, tightening my legs around his ass for more leverage.
“First it was your shoes. Those insanely high heels.”
I moaned as he pumped deeper into me. Sensations shot up my back, as every nerve screamed with pleasure. “My shoes?”
“And then it was your scent. Enveloping me. All I could smell was your perfume. You smelled so good my dick was instantly hard.”
His rhythm was perfect. Hard and fast. Driving his big cock into me with a perfect, relentless force that liquefied my insides.
I clung to him. “You barely spoke. And you were so cranky.”
He gave a breathless laugh. “I didn’t want to date you. I wanted to fuck you. Senseless.”
“Faster,” I begged. “But you only stared at me.”
He began to pump harder. My back slammed against the slippery wall. I could feel my insides tighten around him, creating an almost unbearable friction.
“I was undressing you. Imagining putting my cock in your mouth. Pushing my tongue between your legs. Wondering if you tasted as sweet as you smelled.”