by Sam Mariano
Chapter Sixty Four
Riley
I try to enjoy the amazing dinner that is served, try to pay attention to the remarks being made at the podium by Hunter’s dad and other important people. I realize that, while I’m more of a bookworm than a history buff, just being in the same room as all these people is an insanely cool opportunity. There are so many people parading around with medals, sashes, and regalia denoting them some sort of foreign dignitaries, it’s a bit dizzying.
This ball isn’t just a who’s who of New York—it’s an international affair, and nothing I could have ever dreamed of attending in my whole life.
Here I am living it, but I’m so anxious about what that man overheard, it’s hard to fully enjoy myself.
Every table seats 10. Obviously, I don’t know any of the people at ours, but Hunter seems to know one of the couples. I don’t think he knows anyone else, but he’s good with people, so he ends up chatting up everyone at the table while I sit there all quiet and reserved, making myself sick with worry.
Once dinner and the speeches have wrapped up, the dance floor opens up. Our table empties as everyone hits the floor in pairs, leaving me and Hunter with a moment more or less alone.
“Riley, you’ve gotta stop worrying about it,” he says, looking over at me. “You should be having fun. We’re at a ball, for Christ’s sake.”
I smile faintly. “Your dad doesn’t have a dungeon he’ll throw me in for spilling state secrets, does he?”
Hunter rolls his eyes. “No one’s throwing you in a dungeon, and you didn’t spill any secrets. It’s loud in here, that guy probably didn’t even hear you. And it’s not like this is a well-kept secret. Among this set, yes. No one in my dad’s world knows. But there are people at home who do—people I’ve given reason not to like me, in fact. There are other ways it could get out.”
“I know, but there’s a difference between local gossip that could be denied and written off as a rumor, and me saying something like that to you in a place like this,” I say, gesturing around.
As if to illustrate my point, some royal-dignitary-looking dude in a fancy green sash goes strolling past our table.
I look at Hunter and raise my eyebrows as if to say, “See?”
Hunter shakes his head, pushes his chair back, and stands. “Come on.”
I look up at him, but don’t move. “Where are we going?”
“To dance,” he states, offering me his hand.
I take it, reluctantly rising from my seat. “I do like dancing with you.”
“Mm-hmm,” he murmurs, drawing me closer and escorting me to the dance floor.
Once we’re on the dance floor together, some of my cares fall away. There’s something about dancing with Hunter that I really love, and dancing with him in a place as lovely as this… I shouldn’t squander the evening worrying about some strange man I may never see again.
I feel like a real princess dancing with her prince in a fairy tale made just for me. Hunter holds me close to him and we dance through several songs, then we take a break to grab champagne and watch the other guests milling about.
We don’t go back to our table right away. Preferring to spend a little time alone, Hunter leans against an empty stretch of the ornate, gilded wall and drags me against him.
“Are you having more fun now?” he asks.
I nod happily, taking a sip of my champagne and gazing up at him. “I am. And I know I’ve never really had champagne except when I’m with you, but personally, I think this is the best champagne I’ve ever tasted.”
A voice I don’t recognize suddenly steals my attention from Hunter. When I look up and see the man from the hall, my heart stops.
“I prefer Cristal myself, but I can’t very well complain about Dom, can I?”
Perhaps because I’ve stiffened in his embrace, Hunter scowls at the stranger instead of being friendly like he normally would. “And who might you be?”
I tug on Hunter’s arm. He looks down at me, and I lean up to whisper. “This is the guy from the hall.”
Hunter’s confusion clears. His eyes harden ever so slightly, but his lips tilt up in a deliberately casual smile.
The man from the hall steps forward, meeting Hunter’s gaze and extending his hand. “Caleb Grant. We haven’t met, but I think we’re going to be fast friends.”
Hunter extends his hand toward Caleb. “Oh, do you?”
Like Hunter, this man opted not to go with a traditional black tux tonight. Unlike Hunter, he made the daring choice to wear a rich green velvet tuxedo jacket—not a look a lot of men could pull off, but he’s pulling it off quite well.
He’s undeniably attractive, lean but well-built with golden hair, secretive blue eyes, and a mischievous smile.
His mischief doesn’t feel like Hunter’s, though—mostly playful and harmless. No, there’s much more calculation in the man standing before us, but if he’s grown up in this world, I can imagine why.
And it feels like he has grown up in this world. I found it so daunting to step into tonight, but this man has never been an outsider here. To him, this was his playground. I bet he knows every nook, every cranny, every dirty little secret.
And now he knows who Hunter is, because I opened my big, stupid mouth and told him.
Out of all the people at the party, I wonder if he’s the absolute worst person I could have shared that information with.
My stomach rocks with nerves, but Hunter shakes Caleb’s hand, sizing the man up.
“What makes you think that?” Hunter asks casually.
Rather than answer him, Caleb’s gaze shifts to me as he drops his hand. “And you are?”
I don’t answer. I instantly dislike him, and I make it no secret as I narrow my eyes at him.
Hunter squeezes my waist. “This is my girlfriend, Riley.”
I look over at Hunter uncertainly, but he nods for me to go ahead, so I try to be a little less cagey as I look back at the stranger. Since he shook Hunter’s hand, I offer mine, too. “Riley Bishop.”
“Lovely to meet you, Riley.” He takes my hand, but he doesn’t shake it. He brings it to his lips and kisses it.
I jerk my hand away, regarding him even more warily than I did before.
He smiles, his eyes dancing with amusement.
“There you are!”
My gaze darts away from him as a beautiful girl with long blonde hair in a tight red dress stops next to Caleb. She hands him a glass of champagne, keeping one for herself, then glances at us as she takes a sip.
Her expression is open and friendly, not at all measured and calculated like his. She has blonde hair like him, but if I had the impression for even a moment that she might be his sister, he eliminates it when he slides a hand around her waist a little too intimately for her to be a relation.
“Sorry,” he says to her. “I didn’t mean to leave you holding the alcohol. I saw someone I wanted to say hello to.”
The girl must not be into public displays of affection. She peels his hand off her almost absently as she flashes us a smile. “Hi, I’m Zoey. Are you friends of Caleb’s?”
The girl has a faint southern accent that makes her sound even sweeter, so I don’t think she’s from New York originally.
Without giving us a chance to answer, Caleb introduces us to her. “This is Hunter Maxwell and his girlfriend, Riley Bishop.”
Hunter regards Caleb carefully. “I didn’t tell you my name.”
“Didn’t you?” Caleb takes a sip of his champagne, holding Hunter’s gaze.
The girl he called Zoey frowns, looking over at him with a look of mild disapproval on her face. “You’re not makin’ trouble, are you, Caleb?”
“Would I do that?” he asks, looking over at her.
“Yes,” she answers without hesitation. Her gaze flickers to us as if mildly concerned.
Before she can say anything else, Caleb assures her, “I’m just making new friends.” To us, he says, “I make it a point to familiarize mysel
f with all the interesting people in my city, but I haven’t seen you two around.” As he says it, he gestures between us with the hand holding his champagne glass. His gaze lingers on Hunter. “Not from New York?”
Hunter shakes his head. “Boston. Just in town for the charity ball.”
“First time?” Caleb asks conversationally.
“Not for me,” Hunter answers. “It’s her first time.”
Caleb’s gaze flickers to me. “How are you enjoying your first visit to my fine city, Riley?”
I cross my arms, still not liking this guy despite his feigned friendliness. “It’s… cold.”
A smile grazes his lips. “Boston isn’t cold?”
Hunter slides a hand up my back, then casually pulls me in so he can kiss my forehead. As he does, he murmurs, “Relax.”
I’m too tense to relax, but since he wants me to, I make an attempt to be less chilly. “I like your Christmas colors,” I murmur, gesturing from Caleb in his green velvet jacket to Zoey in her tight red dress. She looks spectacular. They both do, really, though I’m reluctant to pay him a compliment—even in my head where he can’t hear it.
I thought I was being friendly, but her expression shifts with alarm. “Us? Oh, God, no. We’re not…” She shakes her head, frowning. “The Christmas colors are a total coincidence. We’re not here together. I mean, we are, but we’re not a couple. Caleb’s my boyfriend’s friend, we’re just sittin’ at his table.”
Caleb smirks. “I like how you put as much lingual distance between us as you possibly can.” Looking at us, he says, “She’s my friend, too.”
She doesn’t argue with him, but she looks at me and mouths “not really.”
I crack a real smile. I may not be a fan of his, but I do like her.
“Anyway,” Caleb says, settling a hand on Zoey’s hip and drawing her closer to him, “I was just about to tell my new friends here they should stop by my restaurant while they’re in town.”
Zoey peels his hand off her hip, but she does it so naturally, she’s not even mildly distracted as she tells us, “If you do, make sure you get the chocolate cake for dessert—it’s to die for. Don’t get a piece to share, either. It’ll be your biggest regret in life.”
“We’ll each get our own piece,” I promise her.
She gives me a thumbs up, then steps away from Caleb before he can get handsy with her again. “I’m going back to the table.” Turning to us, she says, “It was nice to meet you guys. I’m serious about that cake.”
I offer a tiny wave before she walks away, but I’m kinda sad to see her go. I’m rarely drawn to people this way, but I feel like I want to be her friend.
Drawing my attention back to him as he reaches into his pocket, Caleb asks, “Will you be in town for long?”
Hunter shakes his head. “Just the weekend. We fly home tomorrow night.”
Caleb extends a business card. “Well, if you find yourselves hungry before you leave, I own the best steakhouse in Manhattan. You won’t be able to get a reservation for tomorrow, but I have a separate list for my friends. Just tell the hostess you’re my guests and she’ll give you one of our best tables.”
Hunter glances at the card, then tucks it away in his pocket. “Maybe we’ll take you up on that. Thanks.”
Caleb smiles, but it’s carefully measured and maybe a touch wolfish. “Lovely to meet the both of you. I look forward to our paths crossing again.”
I don’t know if his parting words only sound like a threat because I know what he knows, but there’s something about him I just don’t like. I think he’d be as likely to eviscerate someone he calls a friend as someone he calls an enemy, so I’m not confident there’s any benefit to his friendship.
Well, there are probably benefits, but not the kind I would care about.
Once Caleb is gone, I turn to Hunter. “He’s not a good guy.”
Hunter shakes his head in agreement, but he doesn’t look concerned. “It’s all right,” he says, settling his hand around my waist. “That’s done and over with, so you can finally relax and enjoy the rest of the ball.”
“He heard me.”
“I know, but it doesn’t matter. He won’t tell anyone.”
“How do you know?”
Hunter glances down at me, his expression genuinely relaxed and a little fond. “He just told us.”
I frown. “He did?”
“He wants to be my friend. Powerful men keep each other’s secrets. As long as we go to his restaurant tomorrow and he doesn’t think we’re snubbing him, all will be well.”
“But…” I glance back in the direction Caleb went.
Hunter turns my face back to look up at him. “It’s not a big deal, Riley. We’ll need to eat something, anyway.”
Unable to entirely banish my anxiety, I tell Hunter, “I just don’t trust him.”
“You don’t have to trust him. That guy looks out for his own best interests, and it’s in his best interest to keep his mouth shut. It gives him leverage. A guy like that knows that a secret is much more valuable when it’s kept. Trust me, Riley. He’s not going to say anything.”
I’m less confident about it than he is, but I suppose I am the worrier between us.
If Hunter thinks there’s nothing to worry about, he’s probably right.
Chapter Sixty Five
Hunter
After a long night of dancing with Riley and socializing with the New York elite, I’m more than ready to head back to the hotel.
We’re staying so close to the club, we walk. It’s actually much faster. I only brought her here in the limo earlier because I thought it would add to the experience and I wanted to take her around the city first.
Now all I want to do is get her clothes off her and watch the look of rapture on her face as she comes for me.
The door clicks shut. Out room is dark, lit only by the city lights shining in through the window. I don’t bother turning on the lights. Once I’m done fucking her, we’ll want to go to sleep, and I don’t feel like getting back up to turn a light off.
I take off my coat first, then I peel off Riley’s, kissing the exposed skin of her shoulder as I do.
It was cold outside, but her skin is warm beneath the heavy coat. I’m glad I bought it for her. She balked a bit, both because of the fur and the price tag, but all I had to do was remind her of my trump card and she had to let me buy it for her.
She steps out of her heels and kicks them aside. I encircle her waist with one arm, tugging her against me and burying my face in her neck.
Her arm drifts behind my head. She starts to play with my hair as I kiss her neck and reach for the zipper of her dress.
Wordlessly, I take off her pretty gown and lay it across the upholstered bench at the foot of the bed.
“I should probably hang that up so it doesn’t wrinkle,” Riley remarks.
“We’ll get it cleaned when we get home,” I assure her.
She’s down to her black strapless bra and matching lace panties now. I unhook the bra and catch her tits in my hands, palming them and pulling her closer to my body.
Riley sighs with pleasure, her eyes drifting closed.
I let go and slide my hands down her torso, hooking my fingers into the scanty black lace. I’m just about to push them down, but I reconsider, leaving them for a moment longer so I can cup the globes of her ass in my hands, squeezing and caressing her smooth flesh with the lace still on her skin.
I slide a hand around her front, pushing my fingers down the front of her panties so I can cup her pussy inside the fabric. Riley moans softly, letting her head fall back against my shoulder.
God, I love her.
I kiss her shoulder softly as I push a finger into her. She’s slick already, and that makes me smile. I play with her clit for a minute, but I don’t mess around for long. Before I get her too worked up, I pull my hand out of her panties and push them down.
Riley steps out of them and turns around to face me.
In
no mood to waste time, I shove her back onto the bed. Since I was being so tender with her, she wasn’t ready for it. She lands with a gasp, grabbing at the mattress and scooting back to make room for me.
Before she makes it far, I drag her back to the edge, drop to my knees on the floor, and pry her legs apart.
She sinks back against the mattress. She’s still a little shy about me looking at her pussy, so she starts to fight me.
My firm grip on the soft flesh of her thighs reminds her to behave.
Her muscles relent and she lets me spread her legs as wide as I want them so I can look at her needy pussy on display for me.
Beautiful.
I lean in, darting my tongue out and tasting her. The soft sound of her moan heats my blood even more. Slowly, I work my way up to devouring her with unrelenting greed.
I love eating Riley’s pussy. I love every jerk of her muscles, every sound that emanates from her throat. I love the way she grabs my hair and holds on for dear life right when she’s about to come.
It doesn’t take me long to get her there tonight.
Her cries of pleasure fill the room, and her grip on my hair eases as her body relaxes. The muscles in her legs seem to melt.
She’s boneless and completely malleable as I stand and reposition her how I want her on the bed.
“Roll over, baby,” I tell her, crawling across the bed on my knees and lightly smacking her on the ass.
She’s hazy with pleasure, but she does as she’s told. Now that she’s tummy down on the bed, I straddle her and run my hands over her ass. “Good girl.”
She makes a little murmur of satisfaction, but she’s still too spent to move.
That’s okay, I don’t need her to move. I open her legs so I can climb between them, then I grab my aching cock and guide it between her thighs.
Riley grabs a pillow to prepare for the intrusion she knows is coming, then groans faintly as I push my swollen cock into her tight little pussy.
Fuck.
I grab her hips, holding onto her as I rock mine back and forth, in and out of her until her body finally eases up a little. I don’t want to hurt her, and I know I do sometimes when I go too far, too fast.