by Leslie Kelly
“Everyone, this is my friend Damien.” She nodded toward the couple on Damien’s right. “Damien, meet Lulu and Chaz Browning.”
They smiled and said their hellos, and then Viv gestured to the couple on her left. “And here are Amelia and Lex, aka Bridezilla and her hapless groom-to-be.”
Amelia wrinkled her nose at Viv before offering Damien a smile. “Ignore her. She’s just mad because I’m making her wear an orange bridesmaid dress.”
“God, don’t remind me,” Viv said, reaching for her drink. “The wedding’s on Halloween weekend,” she explained. “So can’t I just wear black? Let Lulu wear the orange?”
Lulu glared. “If you’re wearing black, I’m wearing black.”
“Orange!” Amelia pronounced, not a bit moved. Ugh, Viv thought.
“You look familiar,” Lex said to Damien, his eyes narrowed as if he was trying to place the other man. “Have we met?”
“I don’t believe so,” Damien replied. “But I’ve seen you on TV. I enjoyed your interview with Pete Whitecastle.”
“He’s a nice guy.”
Viv groaned, recognizing the name of the NHL star, who’d come out in support of gay players earlier in the year. “No. No hockey talk tonight. I get enough of it Monday through Friday.”
Lex smiled. “So...baseball? Who are you rooting for in the series?”
Damien went along, his smirk saying he knew well that she was seething in her chair. “LA’s looking good.”
“Their star player is, anyway,” said Lulu. “Hubba hubba. I hate sports, and even I know who Rand McConnell is. Yum.”
When Damien coughed lightly into his fist, Viv raised a questioning brow. “What?”
“Oh, it’s nothing. Just...I know the guy. Had a run-in with him in Chicago a couple of years ago.”
Everyone at the table eyed him, all intrigued. Including Viv. “A run-in? Like, a fight?”
He shook his head. “No. There was, uh, a sort of mix-up with the rooms at our hotel. I accidentally ended up in bed with his girlfriend.”
Viv’s jaw fell open, and Lulu’s husband, Chaz, chortled. “Do you mean his now wife? I’ve seen pictures of her. To quote my wife—hubba hubba, indeed.”
Lulu elbowed him in the ribs. He leaned over and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her close, and they shared a kiss. Despite their comments, the two were crazy about each other, having shared a love-hate relationship since childhood.
“I don’t suppose you ever accidentally end up in bed with an unattractive girl, huh?” Viv said, not hiding her snark.
“Not if he’s lucky,” said Lex. The three men at the table exchanged knowing glances. All three burst into laughter, Damien melting into the group so easily, she could almost forget he was a freaking billionaire who could buy and sell any of them a thousand times over.
“When did you realize you were in the wrong bed?” Amelia asked.
“I wasn’t. She was.” He lifted a glass of water the server had just deposited on the table and took a sip. As he lowered it, a twinkle appeared in his eyes. “And we didn’t figure out the mix-up until two of the three of us were practically naked.”
“Holy crap, was it you and Rand McConnell? Because I woulda paid money to witness that,” said Lulu.
Viv snickered as Damien’s eyes rounded. They went even rounder when Amelia murmured, “Me, too.”
“Alas, no,” he finally said, his face perhaps the tiniest bit flushed. “Sorry I can’t add to anyone’s baseball-player slash shipping.”
Lulu smiled at Viv. “I like this one. A guy who’s confident enough not to mind chicks slash shipping him with a baseball stud is a-okay by me.”
“Thanks,” he said. “Just don’t go shipping me with any hockey players.” He squeezed Viv’s hand. “Not after last week.”
Viv nodded. “Hear, hear! Now, can we stop the sports talk? I’ve had enough of it.”
“Can we at least toast to your getting your job back, and that asshole Bruno Neeley being traded?” Lex asked, lifting his glass. “I hate what he did to you, and I couldn’t be happier that the city’s getting rid of him. He’s scum.”
Damien was nodding, and his hand tightened even more. They hadn’t even had a chance to discuss what had happened with her job, other than what she’d said in her note. But that was fine. Frankly, she’d talked about it enough. As far as she was concerned, it was over. Her professional life was settled; now Viv was ready to move forward and focus on her personal one. And considering the man of any girl’s dreams was sitting beside her, having come to find her for no other reason than that he wanted to be with her, she seemed to be making a pretty good start.
* * *
ALTHOUGH DAMIEN LIKED Viv’s friends, he couldn’t wait to get her to himself. He’d been waiting for more than a week, hoping for some sign that she’d calmed down about him not telling her he owned the Vanguard. He’d refrained from chasing her—hadn’t gone to the office, or lurked around the parking garage after work hoping to accidentally bump into her. Realizing he owed it to Sam, and his company—as well as, of course, to Viv—to let her figure out how to proceed, he’d steered clear.
Still, he’d been honest about having stuck around for her. He’d dodged calls from his family. Inventing reasons to stay in the area, he’d actually gotten some work done, including negotiating a trade for Neeley to a Canadian team. The bastard wouldn’t be happy about moving to the great white north, but contractually, he couldn’t do anything about it. Hopefully the guy wouldn’t harass anybody except the polar bears.
Damien had also been pleased that the acting general manager, Zane Koch, a former player, had leaped feet-first into the job and was exceeding all expectations. The promotion might end up actually being a permanent one. According to the reports, Koch had handled the transition smoothly, and had done everything he could to ensure Viv, and every other woman working for the team, was treated equally and with respect.
So yes, everything had come together. Except Viv. He’d begun to worry she’d never get over it. So when he’d heard her voice mail tonight as he was leaving the practice arena, he hadn’t even gone to the hotel to change clothes. Instead, he’d had his driver take him straight to the restaurant she’d mentioned, hoping it wasn’t too late and he hadn’t missed her.
Seeing her sitting there—her golden hair gleaming under the soft restaurant lights, her lips curved into a smile, her eyes bright—had made his blood roar in his veins. He’d missed her. More, his hunger for her had not diminished one bit in the days they’d been apart. Judging by the way she’d eaten him up with her stare, the feeling was entirely mutual.
Which was why, the moment they slid into the backseat of the limo, separated from the outside world and from his driver, by tinted windows, he pulled her onto his lap. She immediately slid her arms around his neck and tilted her head, her lips parted in invitation. Their tongues swept together, tangling and thrusting. She tasted of tequila, lime and hot, spicy woman. He reached up and cupped her face in both hands, stroking her cheeks, his thumbs tracing the line of her throat. He memorized the feel of her, glad to realize he hadn’t been wrong—she really had the softest skin he’d ever touched.
“I’ve missed you,” he growled against her mouth when they paused to draw breath.
“Then why didn’t you come sooner?” Her voice held a pout.
“You didn’t leave me your number, remember?”
“You could have found me.” She scooted even closer, until her soft, curvy butt was pressed right into his groin. His cock throbbed with heat, and she cooed, wriggling as she felt his raging hunger for her.
“Yes, but I thought you wanted space,” he admitted.
“If you’d read my Facebook statuses all week, you’d have realized I was lonely and hoping you’d get in touch.”
“I don’t do so
cial media.”
She snickered. “You barely do social.”
“You saying I wasn’t social with your friends?”
“Yes, you were. But it was quite obvious you weren’t interested in being there.”
“Only because you weren’t, either.”
“I love my friends.”
“I’m sure they’re wonderful people. But you know you wanted to be alone with me.”
“Sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
“Sure of what I heard in your voice in that message.”
She licked her lips, not trying to deny it. “Could we pretend I didn’t sound totally pathetic?”
He lifted one of her hands to his mouth and brushed his lips across her knuckles. “That was not the word I’d use.”
“Whiny?”
“Shut up, Viv, and kiss me again.”
She shut up and kissed him. Damien slid his fingers into her hair, twining that silkiness around his skin. They tasted and sipped from each other’s mouths, and all the questions, the embarrassment, the worries of the past week...just drifted away.
When they again drew apart, he murmured, “There hasn’t been a minute since you left that I haven’t thought about you.”
“Not one?”
“Not one,” he said, dropping a hand to her long, slim thigh. She was wearing a business suit, but it fit better than the last outfit, highlighting that incredible body rather than concealing it. Considering she no longer had to worry about being harassed at work, her wardrobe had definitely improved since the day they met.
Speaking of which... “You should have taken the clothes.”
“I didn’t need them. Just one outfit to make my getaway, which I returned to the hotel the next day. Did you get it?”
“I got it.”
It was hanging in the closet in the suite. Along with her original suit, plus every other thing she’d tried on but refused to accept that day. He hadn’t been ready to admit she wasn’t coming back.
“Anyway, thanks for finding me.”
“Thanks for calling.”
“You’re welcome.” She sighed happily, dropping her head onto his shoulder, nuzzling into his neck.
Although he was dying with want for her, he also found himself enjoying this softer, sweeter Viv. This wasn’t frantic, as things had been last week. Instead, she seemed happy to stay curled on his lap, wrapped in his arms. And while he wanted her with a desperation that bordered on insanity, he found himself savoring the moment, just as it was. This slightly tipsy Viv seemed younger, more vulnerable. He liked that she’d lowered her defenses, and he’d make damn sure she didn’t live to regret it.
There was one thing to clear up, though. “I apologize for not admitting who I was before I left you that morning. I guess my brain was scrambled because of that frigging TV story.”
“You were worried about me?”
“More than you can imagine.”
“You’re forgiven.”
“Maybe. Still, I can’t express how sorry I am about everything that happened to you. It was wrong on every level.”
“It all worked out. Let’s not talk about it,” she said before yawning audibly near his ear. His warm, soft kitten had her claws sheathed, and appeared ready to soak up his heat and take a cozy nap. This wasn’t exactly what he’d intended when he’d dragged her into his arms. And yet, he was enjoying it anyway.
Laughing softly, he squeezed her and dropped a soft kiss on the top of her head. She mumbled something, but was already drifting off to sleep, and he couldn’t make sense of it.
A buzzer sounded from the console phone. Damien carefully disengaged an arm to answer.
“We’re almost to the hotel, sir.”
It had, of course, been a quick ride. Too quick. He wasn’t ready to give up this quiet interlude, the two of them cocooned in his car, her cuddled in his arms.
“Just drive around the city for a while, Jed, will you?”
“Certainly, sir.”
Damien hung up the phone, watching as the car left the downtown area of Arlington and headed toward the parkway. The Friday-night traffic wasn’t too heavy, the car gliding on the road as smoothly as soft butter on a knife. And as crazy as it seemed, considering he’d been a raging hormone for the past week, all because of the woman lying so vulnerable and soft in his arms, he found himself drifting off, too.
He was lulled by the sounds of her low, even breaths. Damien hadn’t slept well in a week, tossing and turning in the big bed, made bigger by her absence. Now, though, everything seemed right, and he was able to relax for the first time in days.
He awoke minutes later when he realized a soft, warm mouth was kissing his bare chest. It took him a second before he realized a wide-awake Viv had begun to open the buttons of his shirt and was exploring his body, her sweet tongue gliding along his pecs, swirling around his nipple. He hissed, tightening his hand on her thigh.
“Stay asleep, you’re having a nice dream,” she murmured as she shifted on his lap to face him, straddling his thighs. Her shirt scooted high on her legs and he helped it along, pushing up the fabric, caressing her silky skin. When he reached the edge of her panties, he slid his fingers under it, gently toying with the soft curls concealing her sex. She let out a sigh, but quickly wriggled away, evading his touch, as if determined to focus only on him for right now.
He wasn’t about to argue. Not when her mouth was so...damn...amazing.
“What am I going to find when I wake up from this dream?” he asked.
She laughed wickedly. “What do you want to find?”
“You. Just you.”
Sliding farther away, she pushed herself off his lap and nudged his legs apart. He said nothing as he watched her drop to her knees on the floor of the limo, between his thighs. His breaths were coming unevenly out of his lungs, the anticipation of her touch making him throb all over.
Viv leaned close again, continuing to unbutton his shirt, nibbling and licking her way down his body. Her soft tongue swirled around his navel, and then she tasted her way to the waistband of his jeans.
“I mean it, go to sleep,” she said.
“Fat chance.”
“Afraid you’ll wake up and realize some vixen has taken advantage of you?”
He was more afraid she wouldn’t.
He twisted his hands in her hair. “I enoy the way you take advantage of me,” he said, remembering how she’d used her mouth on him last week. The memory of that soft tongue lapping against his sensitive skin had haunted his fantasies. Viv had explored him with utter sensuality, tasting every inch of him, as he had her. He didn’t remember being with a woman who seemed to love giving pleasure as much as she enjoyed receiving it.
She must have read his mind. Viv worked his belt open, and then unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans.
“Oh, God,” he groaned as a small, soft hand slipped beneath his jeans to brush against his throbbing dick.
“My, oh my, Mr. Black!” A saucy smirk. “I fear you forgot your drawers.”
“Maybe you should give me another pair of yours.”
“I doubt they’d fit,” she purred.
“No, but they’d be nice to keep in my pocket, so I can imagine you all day long when we’re apart.”
“Wait, another pair?” She stopped what she was doing and stared up at him, her mouth agape. “I never got my underwear back from the hotel laundry.”
He smiled wickedly.
“Damien Black, did you steal my panties?”
“Guilty.”
“What have you done with them?”
“All sorts of wicked things.”
Looking pleased, she stroked his cock, from base to tip, her nails scratching ever-so-lightly. Then she encircled him in her hand. “Did you wr
ap them around yourself like this?”
Heaven. “Mmm. Oh, God. Yes, Viv.”
A light squeeze, but she released him. “What else?”
Groaning, he asked, “Do you want me to admit that I used your panties to beat off?”
“Did you?”
“Of course.”
She gasped softly. “Tell me about it.”
He stared down at her, the golden moonlight coming through the sunroof giving her a soft glow. She moved her lips ever closer to the wet tip of his cock, and he growled, “Taste me.”
“Tell me.”
Gritting his teeth, he clenched his fists on the seat as he watched her sway so close, he could feel the warmth of her exhalations touch the drop of cum seeping from the tip of his cock. “All right. Your panties did not go to the laundry, because I had them in my pocket when I left the hotel.”
“Oh?”
“Uh-huh. And when I was sitting in this car on the way to and from my meetings, I pulled them out.”
Her turn to hiss.
“They smelled like you—like hot, sultry Vivienne, and just the scent was enough to make my dick so hard I could’ve used it to pound nails.” Frowning, he growled, “So you can imagine how disappointed I was to get to the hotel and find you gone.”
“I’m sorry about that,” she whispered.
“Me, too.”
She forced a smile. “But you had my undergarments to keep you company.”
“Indeed I did.” Closing his eyes, he gave her more of what she’d wanted—details. “I loved the way you sucked me off that night. Your silk undies weren’t quite as soft as your mouth, or as warm and wet as your pussy, but they did the job.”
“Oh, my,” she whispered.
“You asked for it.”
“I’ll take it.”
More? Okay. More. “I cupped my balls first, remembering how you licked me there.”
If it had been light enough in the car, he might see a blush on her cheeks. But hell, he doubted it. His vixen wasn’t the blushing short—one of the things he adored about her.
“I wrapped the fabric around my cock and stroked myself, my eyes closed, imagining it was you I was sinking into.”