by Xavier Neal
“Fucking, really?!”
“But let’s not worry about that shall we. Let’s start with getting you certified…” His hands land on my legs and he offers me a warm smile. “Hannah’s Hope won’t open until January of next year giving you plenty of time to study and take the test more than once if necessary, which I doubt it will be. Felicity has a friend who is willing to help you study the right material, coach, and guide you through the entire process from getting registered to how to handle things once you’re certified. We will be meeting with the two of them tonight.”
Why is the lunch scene from Mean Girl’s already playing in my head?
I swallow my disdain. “Great.”
Kellan’s bright blue eyes bore into mine and he lets his eyebrows fall. “Love, it’s going to be fine. I promise.”
Easy for him to say. He’s not the one who didn’t know it was wear pink day.
“We’re even going to that restaurant you love that makes the lava cake with the white chocolate center.”
I drape my arms around his neck and drag him closer. “Oh…You do know your audience.”
“Of course I do.” He cockily chuckles before our mouths press together. Our lips part, and he lightly brushes his tongue against mine erasing the remaining irritation of having to spend another dinner with Felicity.
Of course I know she’s not a threat, but it doesn’t mean I have to want to be around her all the time. This is all just business. I know that. That’s all they talk about when we have dinner anyway. This is just business and in less than a year, she will go back to her throne on whore island and only be required to venture out to where we are in case of an emergency. Believe me. I am steadily counting down the days like a kid at Christmas…
I stroll into the downstairs office where I expect to find Soph reading a magazine.
It’s become her early evening ritual now that Kristopher has insisted they take small step back with the work load they bring home. He’s worried about the stress upsetting her or the baby. She, on the other hand, is convinced he’s just embarrassed at her theatric mood swings in public. I get the feeling it’s really a little of column A and quite a lot of column B.
Relieved she’s on the couch where I assumed because it means I don’t have to trek around the entire palace in heels to find her, I bluntly ask, “What do you think?”
She drops the magazine into her lap and offers me a smile. “That you make me look like Sea World should be expecting my call for a tank reservation any day now.”
“Stop it,” I instantly fuss. “Not only are you beautiful naturally, but you’ve made being pregnant look beautiful and graceful rather than the uncomfortable nightmare I’m beginning to think it is.”
“It’s bloody awful,” she quickly groans. “The cravings. The mood swings. The inability to regulate my own body temperature. The back aches. Can you believe I have like three more months of this bullshit?”
Just as I chuckle, Kristopher enters the room with a large bowl of popcorn and announces, “Truffle parmesan with the yogurt covered raisins already mixed in.”
Soph’s entire face lights up. “That sounds amazing…”
“I figured it might,” he replies, flopping down beside her. “I’m also having the sheets changed and a heating pad brought in. Hopefully it eases some of the pain and itching.”
“You’re itching?”
She grabs a handful of popcorn. “Apparently the baby is making me more sensitive to certain things, such as our sheets and general clothing. I’ve been spending a lot of time naked.”
Kristopher tries to hide his smirk.
Oh…He looks just like Kellan when he makes that face. Swear they could be twins most days.
“Speaking of clothing, what did my brother do wrong?”
My arms brace themselves against my chest. “What gives you the implication he did something wrong?”
He shoots me a sarcastic expression. “Women we love own two types of evening dresses. The one for our pleasure and the one for our punishment.” His eyes scan over me over once more before he adds, “And with all due respect to you and my lovely wife, the one you’re wearing is punishment at its finest.”
In a weird way he has a point. I have dresses I wear that I know Kellan loves and dresses I wear to remind him in public all the things he wants to do but can’t. Typically, I wear those when he forces me to go somewhere I would rather not go. Like tonight.
“So,” Kris doesn’t bother hiding his glee, “what did my idiot brother do this time? Leave the cap off the toothpaste? Forget an anniversary? Oh! Trick you into visiting the horses again?”
“I love horseback riding,” Soph exclaims with a mouthful.
They’re four legged death monsters…
“Nothing,” I coyly answer. “We’re just having dinner with Felicity-”
“Again?!” They croak in unison.
“And her friend.”
Soph grumbles, “God’s she’s like a Gremlin. Who spilled water on her and why aren’t we shedding massive amounts of sunlight on the witch so she melts away from our lives?”
A huge fit of laughter rumbles through me until I’m bent over at the waist, hands wrapped around my stomach, trying to catch my breath. She merely snickers while continuing to stuff copious amounts of treats into her mouth.
All of a sudden, Kellan’s voice calls out, “Brie!”
I try to gain my composure as his voice approaches.
“Brie, where are you? We’re going to be-” His voice drops along with his jaw the moment I turn to face him.
Perfect…
He lets his eyes caress the way my curves are clinging to the unusual, tight, black cocktail dress. The blue gaze I’ve come to crave cups my chest before carving to memory the small gap between the heart shaped cut of the neckline and the lace part of dress that covers my shoulders and arms yet leaves a duplicate opening on my back. His tongue appears to swell as does his cock by the way he tries to adjust himself.
Kristopher’s chuckle is faint but clearly marks the point he was trying to make earlier.
Sh. No need to tell him he was right. Trust me. It really is the last thing Kenningston men ever need to hear.
I tilt my head to the side, give my wavy brown hair a ruffle, and smirk. “Ready whenever you are…”
Kellan tries to prevent himself from groaning where his family can hear. After several attempts to clear his throat, he somehow manages to croak, “You look amazing.”
“Thank you.”
He drinks in my appearance once more and declares, “Dinner should be quicker than normal tonight.”
Like it’s music to my ears, I strut his direction. “You think?”
“Guarantee it,” the mumbled response isn’t as quiet as he thinks causing Soph and Kristopher to snicker. He flashes his brother the finger, but sweetly says to his sister in law, “Enjoy your night. Hopefully my niece or nephew allows you to finally get some rest.”
“That’d be lovely,” she practically pouts.
Kellan slides a hand around my waist and guides me the direction of the front door where security is waiting. The four of us load in the luxury SUV and start towards the restaurant. Unfortunately, Kellan abandons whatever sexual thoughts were at the forefront of his mind just minutes ago and returns to rambling on about something related to building adjustments.
You have no idea how irritating it is that he’s already dismissed the naughty notions he was thinking about earlier. We haven’t even been married a month and our sex life feels like it’s losing its spark. Maybe he’s not interested anymore? Maybe our honeymoon wore him out? Maybe our honeymoon was too much sex so now he has to ration himself back to reality? Yeah. I agree. All of that shit sounded stupid. You’re probably right. Starting Hannah’s Hope has probably just kept him more preoccupied than he realizes. What do you say we help remind him of what he’s missing with the long hours?
I lean forward over Vincent’s shoulder. “How long until we reach th
e restaurant?”
“ETA four minutes if we hit the next light, two if we do not, Mrs. Brie.”
“Thanks.”
Kage gives me a quick glance to which I wink.
Once he turns back around, I proceed with my plan. While Kellan’s voice drones on and his attention is plastered on his tablet, I slide my hands under my dress to my hips. I slightly lift myself off the seat, wiggle my lace thong down my legs, and crumble the delicate material into a small ball.
No, I don’t typically like underwear with my dresses, but these were a wedding gift. Er…Kinda. I was given a lingerie gift card to some French store and ordered these online. Figured I could tease my husband by verbally letting him know I had on a new pair, but this seems like a much better plan.
The fact he didn’t look up once annoys me to new levels. “Kellan.”
“Hm?” He hums, eyes still glued on what appear to be some sort of reports.
Instead of waiting for the reaction I want, I slide myself closer into him and tuck the underwear into his far pocket. “Can you hold these for me?”
Kellan nonchalantly nods. Almost instantly, a curious look coats his eyes, and his hand dips into the location I just put them in. He lowers his voice to a quieter level. “Are these….”
“They are.” The urge to groan returns causing me to victoriously smirk. I lean over and whisper in his ear. “Now I’m completely naked under this dress.”
“Bloody hell,” he grumbles and tips his lips to feather mine. “How do you expect me to concentrate during dinner?”
“I don’t.” My teeth nip at his bottom lip just as Kage opens his door for us to exit.
For the first time since we got into the SUV my husband falls silent.
Stunned silence is a total win in my book.
Kellan’s expression shifts into something that’s equal parts carnal and lustful. His tongue wets the area my teeth just toyed with as if he’s desperate to taste any part of me he can.
Kage clears his throat, which causes me to smirk. “We have to go inside.”
He darts his eyebrows down at my remark.
What! We do!
Unexpectedly, he turns over his shoulder to state, “Give us a private moment, please.”
He nods, lifts a hand to stop the valet from coming closer, shuts the door and says something to Vincent who appears displeased by the situation.
My mouth parts with the intention to object yet Kellan swiftly slips his tongue inside. With brute force it punishes mine. The combination of spins and pushes being delivered in such a persistent nature sends my mind spinning into a delicious delirium. My pussy aches with jealousy while my lungs beg for mercy. Abruptly, he yanks his lips away and I thoughtlessly gasp to replace the air he’s stolen.
Pride paints itself into a smug smile on his face.
Bastard…
His thumb gently caresses my swollen lips. “Game on, Love.”
I snake my tongue out to touch the tip of his finger. “Game on…”
After a shared moment of readjustment, the two of us slip out of the SUV, link hands and enter the upscale downtown restaurant.
When we dine with Felicity we rarely eat anywhere we won’t be ‘seen’. Like the old Kellan I first met, she’s a bit of social media slut. Blogs are constantly raving about her social life or so she informed us during our first dinner together. She reminds me of Kim Kardashian, except her rise to fame wasn’t because of a sex tape or selfie obsession. Her father owns one of the largest coffee companies in the entire world and she was head of many of his marketing campaigns, including one with a jingle I still sing to this day. She’s always making headlines and they’re rarely negative. The entire world thinks she’s perfect…Well most of it anyway.
Soph’s Gremlin comment causes me to chuckle to myself as Kellan pulls out my seat for me. “What’s so funny?”
Knowing better than to display any additional annoyance for his business partner, I shake my head casually. “Nothing important. Just a girl moment between Soph and I.”
He presents me with a soft smile and sits in the seat beside me at the round table.
I try to keep my tone even. “She’s late. That’s unlike her.”
Kellan shrugs his indifference. “Traffic was a bit smashed.”
“Jammed.”
“What?”
“Traffic gets jammed. People get smashed.”
“People jam. Cars smash.”
“Why do I feel like you should come with a translation app pinned to your lapel?”
His beautiful laugh fills the table and like always, I mindlessly grin.
Even after a year of listening to that, it is still by far one of my favorite things to hear.
“Kellan!” Felicity’s voice joins the table.
And that is my least favorite.
My eyes turn to where she’s approached in a black, skin tight, long sleeve dress with a diamond cut out missing in the middle of her chest.
How is that professional?! Since when is showing side boob a classy thing to do over dinner? No. That’s technically side boob! Even if it is in the center, that’s still the side of her lady lumps we are seeing.
My husband greets her promptly with a nod and she turns her welcomes to me. “Brie.”
The forced smile on my face is agony. “Felicity.”
“Love the dress,” she compliments, sliding into her chair the waiter has pulled out for her closest to Kellan. “You look lovely.”
“Thank you.” Swallowing the urge to ask why she left part of her dress in the car, as well as lie about her looking great, I ask, “New dress?”
“Yes. Thank you for noticing.”
Hard not to…
“Kellan actually helped me pick it out last week over a late lunch.”
I drift my eyes his direction and he immediately explains, “We were headed to our meal, and she stopped at the boutique to return to something. She saw it and asked my opinion. I simply gave it.”
His opinion or attention to a private fashion show?
Before I can repeat those words out loud, Kellan turns his attention back to her. “You came alone? Where is your friend?”
After dismissing the waiter to grab us a round of waters, she glances over her shoulder in search of the missing guest. It only takes a second before she states, “There he is.”
In unison Kellan and I question, “He?”
All of a sudden, a gorgeous blonde male with wet tipped hair and an undeniably beautiful smile hustles towards the table. “I’m late! I’m late! I know! I’m sorry,” he begins to profusely apologize. “The game ran late at the gym and I had to shower and-” The sentence cuts off prematurely as he sits in the seat beside me. “No. Excuses are not acceptable. I made a mistake. I will do better.” His blue eyes land on me. “My word.”
My mouth tries to move in response but my voice box betrays me.
Holy shit, are you seeing him? Did he just jump off the cover of Esquire and hop in his car to meet us for dinner? I mean, seriously. Look at him! He’s muscular, trim, and filling out that suit in a way that’s making my mouth water. What? Yeah…Married doesn’t mean blind. I can walk into an art exhibit and not touch the masterpieces…even when the masterpieces are right beside me literally expecting me to. Do you smell that? Is that his cologne or natural musk?
“This is one of my oldest friends,” Felicity announces proudly.
“Guy Angelo,” he introduces, his hand extending for mine.
The moment it’s there he places a kiss on the back of it.
An unmistakable grunt of disapproval escapes beside me.
Can’t even blame him. If 50 Shades of Blonde was kissing on his hand, I would probably lose my shit too. Then again…I was already in this reverse situation, wasn’t I?
“Brie Sanders,” I sweetly reply.
Kellan growls, “Kenningston.”
Not bothering to look at his face where I’m sure steam is coming from his ears, I quickly correct, “Kenningst
on. Sorry. Still getting used to introducing myself that way.”
Guy nods and flashes his bright, white smile again. “Understandable. Marriage requires many adjustments.”
He has no idea…
“And you are Kellan Kenningston.” Guy extends his hands towards my husband. “Prince of Doctenn. Duke of Rockbridge.”
“Husband of Brie,” he rudely inserts as they slowly shake.