Incredible You

by Lili Valente

  Shane

  We agree to meet in the lobby at 30 Rockefeller Center at seven thirty, a little later than the rest of the guests invited for dinner and dancing. The elevators there chug away at all hours, carrying tourists to the observation decks high above the city and Rainbow Room patrons to the cocktail lounge and restaurant on the sixty-fifth floor. Tonight, though, both the lounge and the restaurant are rented out for the private event and the lobby is unusually deserted.

  I arrive early—a curse inherited from Aunt Tansy, who insisted early was on time and on time was late—to find Jake already waiting for me.

  Damn. The man is fine, sexy, and obsessively punctual.

  Be still my beating heart.

  My dragon leans against the far wall in a black dress jacket that hugs his broad shoulders. The golden lamplight caresses the elegant angles of his face, making him look just a little bit dangerous—like a 1920’s crime boss, or the detective who takes down the bad guys while remaining one risky decision above the law. He is fucking stunning, so gorgeous he literally takes my breath away.

  I stand just inside the doorway, mouth opening and closing, lungs protesting being asked to process oxygen when there is a red-hot, five-alarm sex god smoldering at me a dozen feet away.

  Jake seems to like what he sees, too. Or to like the idea of ripping the glittery silver cocktail dress off my body with his teeth and having me for dinner—forget the lobster and steak waiting sixty-five floors up. And oh do I relish that idea, too, so much I have to bite my bottom lip to keep from saying something completely inappropriate, like “let’s forget this party and go have crazy sexy times in the coat check.”

  But as our eyes meet and hold, a thousand dirty thoughts flash through my mind, each one raunchier than the last. I’m so deep in the lust zone that I trip over my own feet and stumble a few steps toward the elevators.

  Thankfully, the near-fall jumpstarts my lungs, sending oxygen rushing into my hormone-addled brain. By the time Jake’s fingers close around my upper arm, holding me steady, I’m only slightly light-headed.

  His fingers squeeze gently. “You okay?”

  “Yep. Yes,” I say, my voice breathy. “All good.”

  “Are you sure? You seem nervous.”

  I shake my head. “Nope. Not nervous. All fine.”

  He lifts a brow as his fingers skim down my arm in a caress I feel everywhere, all at once.

  Christ, does he have any idea what his touch does to me?

  “Are you sure?” he asks. “Because you misplaced all the nouns in those last few sentences.”

  I laugh. “Sorry. The first sighting of Man Pretty has the tendency to wreak havoc with my vocabulary,” I say, making an effort to form a complete sentence as I express my approval for everything he’s got going on. “You have taken hot to a new level tonight, my friend.”

  His answering grin is a mixture of cocky and happy-to-please that is absolutely adorable. “I’m glad you approve.”

  “Oh, I do. I really do.” My gaze flicks from the dark hair swept back from his forehead, to the clearly custom-made black jacket hugging his broad shoulders, to the gray slacks that leave absolutely nothing about Jake Falcone’s powerful thighs and stunning backside to the imagination.

  But that’s just fine with me.

  No feat of imagination could top the real life majesty of this man’s thickly muscled ass. Someone should make a cast of his backside and display it at the Met, title it “World’s Most Maximus Gluteus,” and preserve that posterior for posterity.

  “Would you like me to turn around?” He smirks as he catches me leaning over to take in more of the view.

  My cheeks heat as I shake my head. “Nah, that’s okay. I’ll have plenty of time to ogle you later, after you’ve had a few glasses of champagne and aren’t paying attention.”

  His arm circles my waist, pulling me close until the heat of his body soaks through my clothes, warming all the places that got chilled in the cab on the way over. “You don’t have to wait. I like feeling your eyes on me. Gives me confidence.”

  I huff as I roll my eyes, trying to pretend my heart isn’t beating between my legs and all my thoughts aren’t jumping the one-way train to Let’s Get It On-ville. “Because you’re soooo lacking in confidence.”

  “I have my moments. Like anyone else.” His arm tightens around me. “But seriously, are you ready for this?”

  “Am I ready for this?” I echo, thoughts heading off the rails again as I feel, hard against my hip, the evidence of how much the Dragon enjoys what I’ve got going on.

  Jesus, the man is impressive, and it’s getting harder and harder to play it cool—pun intended. But do I even remember how to have wild, crazy, fuck-me-brainless sex after over a year of celibacy? For all I know, my vagina could be full of cobwebs or spider webs or actual spiders.

  I mean, aside from Shrek-the-magical-green-vibrator and some tampons, it’s been a ghost town down there. Nothing sentient has done an exploratory mission in quite some time.

  What if Jake discovers an entire colony of naked mole rats has set up shop in my vagina? Or something grosser than mole rats? Though I’m having a hard time thinking of something grosser than mole rats right now. They are so creepy and hairless and have those claws that—

  “Shane?” Jake gives me a gentle shake.

  “What?” I swallow, brow furrowing. “Did you say something?”

  “I asked you if you thought we should bail before it’s too late?” he asks, casting a pointed look at the well-dressed couple ambling past us on their way to the elevator. “It’s okay if you’ve changed your mind.”

  “No, I haven’t changed my mind.” I squeeze his arms through his coat, willing myself to pull it together and give him the reassurance he clearly needs. “I am so ready for this. We are so ready for this. Seriously, don’t worry. As soon as we get up there, I’m going to be the perfect girlfriend. I just…spaced for a second.”

  While I was thinking about having wild, crazy, fuck-me-brainless sex with you, I add silently because confession, even silent confession, is good for the soul.

  “You’re already perfect,” he says. “Just be yourself.”

  “Damn.” I sigh, melting all over again. “I’m starting to see why you have such good luck with women, Falcone.”

  That’s right, Shane, the less horny voice inside my head pipes up, remember how many women he’s had in his bed before you.

  No matter how charming he is, the reality is that Jake Falcone is a hardcore womanizer, and the last woman he womanized is now completely unhinged. Men who sleep with unhinged people are not good first-lovers-after-a-long-dry-spell material, not to mention that he’s your client.

  Client, Shane. This is business. Business!

  I take a deep breath and am on the verge of finding my center when Jake cups my cheek in his big, warm hand and my blood starts buzzing all over again.

  “I don’t want to talk about other women,” he says, the humor gone from his voice. “I don’t want to talk about them or think about them. I want to be here, with you, the only woman on my mind. And I’d sure like it if I were the only man on yours.”

  “You are.” I shiver as his thumb brushes across my bottom lip. “I can safely say there isn’t a thought in my head right now that isn’t Jake flavored.”

  His eyes darken. “Good. Let’s keep it that way.”

  And then he kisses me, and I catch fire the way I always do. His tongue demands entrance to my mouth, and I melt into his heat, his hunger, into the magic of his hands pulling me closer and the mind-muddying electricity he sends dumping into my bloodstream.

  Damn, this man can kiss.

  He kisses me until I’m boneless, breathless, and spiders and mole rats are the furthest thing from my mind. I don’t have to worry about anything like that. Because Jake fucking Falcone is clearly a man who can handle anything that gets in his way.

  “God, you drive me crazy,” he says as he pulls away, his jaw clenched tight and
his hands tangled in my hair. “Absolutely fucking crazy. For the rest of the night, you’re mine, princess. Nothing is off-limits as long as it makes people believe in the fairy tale. You on board?”

  “So on board.” I lean into him, body humming as I give up the fight to hold on to rational thought. “Yes. And double yes.”

  “Yes, what?” His hand drops to my hip.

  “Yes, to the fairy tale. Yes, to making people believe.”

  “And yes to being mine.” His palm skims higher, his fingers molding to my ribs, making my nipples ache. “That’s what I want to hear, princess. That you’re mine.”

  “I’m yours,” I say, the few semi-solid bones left in my body turning to lust mush. I’ve never been a fan of the “alpha male claiming his woman” bit, but I’m a fan of it now. A big fucking fan. Such a fan that I wouldn’t put up a fight if Jake lifted up my skirt and fucked me from behind on the way up to the Rainbow Room, just to prove how completely I belong to him.

  God help me, but the thought of it is enough to make my panties even wetter.

  “Good girl.” His teeth catch his bottom lip as he nods. “Though, I could stand to hear that a few more times on the way up.”

  “And I could stand for you not to bite your lip anymore,” I say, allowing him to lead me over to the elevator bank.

  “Why’s that?” He glances over his shoulder, smolder still in full effect.

  “Because it makes me want to bite it,” I confess. “And maybe bite a few other parts of you while I’m at it.”

  “I’ll want a complete list of those parts for approval later, but as of now all biting is on the table.” He smiles—a wicked, shameless smile that makes me laugh even as it contributes to the further ruination of my panties.

  “Bad dragon,” I murmur as the elevator chimes. “Very bad.”

  He winks. “I haven’t even gotten started yet, princess.” He takes my hand and pulls me into the empty elevator. Seconds later we’re zooming into the air, the car moving nearly as fast as the blood rushing through my veins.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Jake

  I should be focused on making the most of this PR opportunity—GQ has one hell of an audience, and the Rangers media machine will amplify the profile’s reach, making the most of the good press.

  Tonight I’m starting something that could either be really good or very bad for my career and my future. This profile could mean the difference between Keri’s unspoken accusations continuing to hang over my head like a storm cloud spitting lightning bolts, or a lighter, fan-friendly story being attached to my name.

  In an ideal world, I would have been able to keep my private life private, the way I like it, but ideal went out the window when things with Keri went from bad to assault with a deadly weapon. And now my reputation and my family’s ability to hold their heads up in my hometown hang in the balance.

  Any asshole with the brains God gave a subway rat would be carefully plotting his next move, aware of how easy it would be to screw this up. Shane and I have only known each other a few days, and no matter how hot the chemistry is between us, or how carefully we plotted our backstory, there’s a chance one of us will crack under pressure.

  But I’m having a hard time concentrating on anything but the woman by my side, the woman with her arm around my waist and her breast soft against my chest and her silky blond hair slipping through my fingers as I guide her in for another stolen kiss. Her mouth is my crack rock, and the taste of her on my lips is enough to keep me in a state of constant arousal, my cock insisting on remaining semi-hard so it can be locked and loaded the second Shane gives the signal that she wants more than pretend.

  That she wants me inside her, making her come, showing her how fucking devoted I will be to bringing her pleasure.

  Down boy, I remind myself. These pants aren’t going to be forgiving if semi-hard becomes something more. Though, at the rate we’re going, it’s only a matter of time before I embarrass myself.

  We’ve been at the party twenty minutes and I’ve already kissed Shane five times. The temptation to make the most of this night of no-holds-barred fantasy is proving too much for me. I’m a man who has spent his entire life in control, refusing to be anything like the old man who did his best to fuck up my life before it even got started, and now I’m throwing all my discipline out the window for a pretty woman.

  But she’s a hell of a lot more than pretty. Shane is smart, sweet, funny, a little bit wrong in exactly the right ways, and so sexy that I’m starting to hate my fucking slacks. Why didn’t I pick something looser and spare myself the suffering? Though I have to admit seeing Shane blush as she checked out my ass almost makes it worth it.

  “Get ready,” she whispers against my mouth, the taste of Shane and mojito mingling on her lips. “Denise is on her way across the dance floor.”

  “Does that mean I have to stop kissing you?”

  She smiles. “Just for a little while. Then we can get back to being that couple that makes everyone uncomfortable and jealous.”

  “Sounds good,” I say, and it does.

  So far I’m enjoying this intervention more than I ever imagined I would. And if I have my way, both Shane and I will be enjoying it a hell of a lot more before the night is through. Tonight is the night. I’m not going home without letting Shane know that my jones for her is one hundred percent the real thing.

  “There you are!” The girlish exclamation is followed by the sound of swiftly clapping hands. “Oh my God, you two are the most adorable, sexy, fabulous thing I’ve ever seen! I can’t stand it!”

  I turn to see a brunette who looks to be in her mid-thirties, her elegant features, tasteful makeup, and glamorous blue dress at odds with her childlike voice and over-the top enthusiasm.

  “I’m Denise! So good to meet you, Mr. Falcone.” She thrusts out a narrow hand. “I’m a huge, huge fan.”

  “Call me, Jake, please.” I take her hand and give it a gentle squeeze. “It’s great to meet you, too. I’m thrilled to be here.”

  “Oh, me too!” She claps again. “We’re going to have so much fun with this, I promise. It will be completely painless and awesome. Now come here, Shane, and give me a hug, you gorgeous thing.”

  Shane reaches for the other woman with a laugh. “How are you, Dee? You look beautiful. Love, love, love your dress.”

  “Thank you, thank you. I was so glad to finally have an excuse to pull it out of the closet.” Denise hugs Shane tight before pulling away with a giggle. “You’ll both have to forgive me if I’m a little giddy. I’ve already had two glasses of champagne. I’m trying to get my courage up to ask Jorge to dance. I’ve had a thing for him forever, and with all the romance in the air lately, I figured I should woman up and give it a shot.”

  Shane smiles. “That’s the spirit. And there’s nothing to forgive. Jake and I like giddy people, don’t we, babe?”

  “Absolutely.” I twine an arm back around her waist, not enjoying being separated from her, even for a few moments. “Hell, I’m a little giddy myself.”

  Denise threads her hands together with a happy sigh. “Oh, I can tell. I was watching you two from across the room, and you just glow. You’re positively radiant together. The pictures are going to be phenomenal. I can’t wait to get you both in wardrobe and somewhere fabulous. Maybe the cloisters if the weather is good.”

  “Wardrobe?” I shoot Shane a glance out of the corner of my eye.

  “But not tonight,” Denise hurries to assure me before Shane can respond. “What you’re both wearing tonight is perfect for a few shots to tease the feature on the blog. We’ll save the makeup and wardrobe and the glamorous stuff for our last meeting. I’ll have nailed down my angle by then and be able to tell the artistic director exactly what I’m looking for. Sound good?”

  “Sounds great,” I lie, wondering if I’ve gotten myself into more than I bargained for.

  Shane didn’t say anything about a photo shoot. I rarely say yes to interviews, let alone get
ting dressed up and posing in front of a camera. The last time I let myself be talked into something like that was for the Easter Seals fundraiser, where I ended up getting suckered into wearing a pair of bunny ears and taking pictures with the kids. The team called me Thumper for the rest of the season.

  “Um, yeah, sounds great,” Shane says in a less than enthusiastic tone.

  Denise laughs. “Don’t worry! I know you hate having your picture taken, for some insane reason.” Dee turns to me, laying a hand on my arm. “I mean, if I looked like her all I would do is get my picture taken, right?”

  She turns back to Shane with a tsking sound. “But I know you’re shy, so I’ve got my best guy booked for our shoot. He’ll get you both relaxed and take killer shots. It will be sweet and painless, and you’ll come away with something gorgeous to hang in your apartment. Tonight we’ll just do a little easy, backstory chatting and save the bigger questions for out next meeting, when we’ll have more privacy.” She waves both hands. “Come join me at my booth. I’ve staked out a corner where we should be able to hear ourselves think.”

  “Lead the way.” Shane squeezes my hand as Denise starts back around the dance floor, headed for the long, glass-walled room on the other side. “Sorry,” she adds beneath her breath. “She didn’t say anything about a photo shoot before. It was supposed to be two meetings, here and something low key, like brunch.”

  “It’s fine,” I say, finding I’ve already gotten used to the idea. “She’s right—you shouldn’t be shy in front of the camera.”

  “I’m not. I don’t mind pictures with friends and stuff like that. It’s just the staged posing, flashes and bounce card stuff that makes me twitchy.”

  “Then we ask her to cancel the shoot. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

  “No way,” she says, with a shake of her head. “I’ll do it. We’ll do it, and it will be great. No problem. It’s just pictures.”

  I squeeze her hand. “Thank you, princess.”

  She smiles up at me as we reach the booth. “My pleasure, dragon.”

  “Oh my God, yes!” Denise’s jaw drops as she plops into the padded booth. “That’s it! The princess and the Dragon! New York City royalty and the fiercest man on the ice. That’s my angle!” She blows kisses across the table. “Bless you both. So far you’re the easiest profile ever.”