Sunday night, I stand in the room fiddling with my tie. Fletcher and Cassie arrived last night. He’d stopped by my place in Asheville and brought my tux for the gala tonight. Being the number one quarterback in the NFL right now, he’d easily secured invites for tonight’s festivities. His support of the event will bring more awareness, just like Ryder’s.
“What are the girls doing in there?” Fletcher grumbles, moping around. “This is our first night out.”
His parents are in a room a floor below us with their slumbering child.
“Speaking of which, how’s my godson?”
“The little cock blocker you mean,” Fletcher says, but there is no real bite in his words.
There’s so much pride on his face.
“That bad?” I ask.
He nods. “I don’t think I even remember what pussy looks like.”
Cassie walks out. “And if you keep complaining, you’ll never see mine again.”
Well trained as he is, he buttons his lip.
“Say it isn’t so,” Ryder says. “She’s truly got you on a leash.”
“I’d keep quiet if I were you,” Gina says, entering the room next, protective of her best friend. “I could suddenly develop cramps.”
Ryder clamps his lips shut. I’m about to laugh when Riley steps out of the room. And just seeing her takes my breath away.
RILEY
Mark stares at me as though his eyes have been shot out of his head like bullets. Waltzing up to him, I stick my finger under his chin and push it up, closing his mouth. Then I lean into him and whisper, “Like what you see?”
Stepping back, I wait for his response. His tongue drags a trail of wet across his lips, and I instantly want to pull him into the bedroom for a lazy fuck. It’s even worse when I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.
“You … you’re wearing that?” he finally chokes out. “No.”
My brows draw together, and I immediately glance at Gina. She’s the one who suggested it. She swore Mark would love it, and I took her word. When our eyes meet, there’s more than merriment in hers. Gina is loving this. I get her nod of approval, only I’m not sure where to go with it.
I decide to find out exactly why he doesn’t like my dress.
“What’s wrong with it, Mark? Why don’t you like it?”
“Look at it.” He blinks rapidly, and looks more than a little twitchy.
“I am. It’s perfectly fine.”
It’s a gorgeous Roberto Cavalli, cherry red, low-cut silk halter, that narrows to my waist and then flares out. It dips low in the back, but it also has a slit up the leg that hits my thigh. It’s absolutely killer.
“Fine? That dress is not fine. You have to change. That’s all there is to it.”
“Change? I can’t change. You’re acting like I’m wearing something geeky.”
“That won’t do at all. Wear something else.” He twitches some more.
“Like what? A golf shirt?” I blow out a breath and chance another look at Gina, and I swear she’s biting her lips. What the hell is going on?
“A golf shirt would be better than that,” Mark huffs.
This is so stupid. We are arguing over my dress when all this time I thought he’d be over the moon about it. When taking in a view of the room, it’s not difficult to notice that everyone’s enjoying our little spat. Reaching out, I grab Mark’s hand and pull him into our room. Then I shut the door behind us.
“What’s going on?” He wants to know.
“I might ask you the same.” In all honesty, my feelings are hurt. I’ve spent a small fortune on this gown, and I think I look pretty good, even if he doesn’t. The least he could do is pretend.
He goes all spaz again, jerking his head around as though someone is poking him with a cattle prod.
“Dammit, I went to great lengths to surprise you with this dress. I thought you’d love it and maybe even drool a little. I mean, I thought I was going to be the belle of the ball, but you’re making me feel more like Cinderella sweeping the hearth.” And fuck my life if a tear doesn’t roll down my cheek. This is so not happening. My arms fly in the air as I say, “See, now look what you’ve done.”
“That’s not it at all,” he says, coming over and wiping at my tears.
“What’s not it?”
“You’ve got this thing all wrong. I think you are undoubtedly the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life, and that dress is gorgeous, too. Just not on you.”
Right as I’m getting ready to smile, he drops that last bit on me. “What? You don’t think it looks good on me?” I can’t believe he said that.
“No! I mean, yes!”
“You know what? I think maybe I should go to the gala by myself.” As I begin to turn toward the door, his voice stops me.
“Not in that dress you aren’t.”
“What did you say?” I ask.
“The dress. You can’t go in that.” He shakes his head and holds out his hand, palm facing me. “It would appear I can’t communicate well when you’re wearing that thing.” He fists his hands and frowns. “Like I said, you’re the most beautiful … even stunning. But I’m losing my coherency around you dressed like that, and I’m pretty fucking sure every other man will, too.”
“So, you like the dress on me after all?”
“Riley, it was never a matter of liking the dress on you. You’d look perfect wearing a paper sack.”
Three hard raps on the door alert us.
“Come on, you two. We’re going to be late.”
It’s Ryder with a two-minute warning.
“Coming,” I yell.
“You’d better not be,” he yells back, laughing.
“Ha-ha, not funny. You need to go back to comedy school,” I shout.
Mark pulls me into his chest. “I’m not sure how I’ll stand having every guy in there checking you out.”
“Yeah, but think of this. You’re the only one who gets to taste the goods.”
“I’d better be,” he says, sounding jealous.
“You promise I look okay?” I ask. “You’ve totally thrown me for a loop.”
“Eagle, you are magnificent. You’re going to be the death of me tonight.”
“I swear it’ll be worth the wait. When we get back here, I’ll make it up to you.”
“If I’m not a dead man by then. You don’t have a sweater or anything you can wear around here?” He points at my chest and around my back.
“No,” I laugh, “and I’d look pretty stupid if I did.”
“Jesus, I can almost see your tits.”
“You can not.”
“Come on, you two,” Ryder calls again.
Leaning into Mark, I kiss him. “We’d better go.” We link our hands and join the others, where we get all kinds of curious looks. From the way Gina inches her way toward me, I know she’s going to try to wheedle some information out of me. But I’ll not breathe a word of what was said until later. I’m pretty sure every word of Mark’s dress distress will come tumbling out of my mouth after a few glasses of wine. And Gina will be cracking up with the information, too.
We take the elevator down to the second floor because the gala is being held in one of the ballrooms in the hotel. As soon as we exit, a dozen or more cameras flash in our faces. At first I’m of the belief it’s for the charity. After all, my cousin, Fletcher, is attending, along with my twin brother. Their presence is enough to stir a hornet’s nest of activity. Luckily, for the charity, it was Fletcher’s bye week, and he was able to break away from his quarterback duties. The Make-A-Wish Foundation should be happy. He has written them a sizable check because of this event.
But that’s not why the cameras are going off like fireworks. Fletcher and Ryder keep moving and I follow, but the reporters stop me. Then the questions begin. It’s about the little incident with Justin and how horrible it must’ve been for me to find my former fiancé in the, um, mouth, of another woman. They aren’t shy a bit about what they ask,
and I nearly forget to act like the spurned ex-girlfriend.
“It was so shocking, particularly since he should have been setting a good example for the children,” I say, leaning on Mark for support. “If my caddie here hadn’t come looking for me, I’m not sure what I would’ve done.” I fan my face for effect.
Another reporter steps forward and asks, “Miss Wilde, do you think there’s a chance of you and Mr. Turner patching things up?”
Is he kidding? Like there ever was a Miss Wilde and Mr. Turner to begin with. But I continue my acting skills and say, “After what happened, and this isn’t the first time I caught Justin in a compromising position, my answer is a huge no.”
Not waiting for any more questions, I walk, my hand on Mark’s arm as he escorts me into the ballroom. More camera lights flash as we enter the red carpet area.
“This is crazy,” Mark comments.
“Yeah, it is, but it’s for a good cause.”
“Is it like this all the time?”
“Like what?” I ask.
“The cameras. The paparazzi?”
“If I’m at a tournament, yeah. But otherwise, no. Why?” His question worries me, and he’s fidgeting again, which make me more than a little uncomfortable. “Hey, are you still hung up on this dress?”
“Huh?” he asks as he gawks around the room, and then back at me.
“My dress. Is it still making you twitchy?”
“The truth?”
Facing him, I say, “Nothing but it.”
His eyes zero in on my cleavage, which, to be honest, would be rather difficult not to do. The V in the dress runs down nearly to my waist.
“When I look at you, I’m undone. But the thing is, I imagine that every man in here feels the same.”
“Is that a bad thing, then?”
“Fuck, Riley. What do you think? I don’t like every man undressing you with his eyes.”
“I would imagine that most women are doing the same to you.” Smiling, I add, “I wore this dress for you, so you would do exactly that. I wanted you to be squirming all night, and I have to say, my mission is accomplished. But, Mark, I didn’t realize you were so cavemanish.” My tongue pokes the inside of my cheek as I hold back a giggle. And that’s exactly where he’s gone—straight to the Stone Age.
“What? I’m not like that.”
My brow arches at his ridiculous statement. The giggle I was holding back bursts out of my mouth as my eyes nearly spin like a top. “You are the most possessive alpha male I have ever dated.”
“How can you possibly say that?” he asks. And he’s truly shocked by what I’ve said.
“Look at you. You’re standing there as if you want to cage me in with your arms. And your eyes are darting around the room almost daring anyone to look at me.”
His jerky head movements tell me he’s doing exactly what I described before his gaze lands on me. But his focus only stays on me momentarily before it skitters away to assess his opponents in the room.
“There you go again. Obsessing, analyzing, seeing who you’re going to have to fight.”
“I am no— ”
Cutting him off, I say, “Don’t you dare deny it, Mark James. You are the absolute worst, and you suck at hiding it.” It’s comical, really, seeing this usually cool and composed guy go all dominating and proprietorial over me. Come to think of it, now I understand why he didn’t hang around when all the photos were being taken that day, after Justin showed up. Seems to me the old green monster was showing its face.
He has this cute little way of tilting his head and lifting the corner of his mouth as he thinks about what I said. Makes me want to plant my lips on his mouth. Too bad we’re not alone.
“Okay, maybe you’re a little right,” he says, rubbing his chin.
“A little? Either I am or I’m not.”
“I admit you do have a point. I can’t help but feel protective of you.”
This I love. “And?” I prod.
“All right. I want to bust in the teeth of everyone who is staring at you. And believe me, there are many.”
“Really?”
“Riley! Stop it. You’re goading me.”
His black tuxedo jacket is open, so I slide my hand inside and squeeze his waist. “Yes, I am. I can’t seem to help myself. I wanted so badly for you to have lusty thoughts of me in this dress tonight because ever since I put it on, I’ve had this really hot fantasy of us.”
I watch his throat work as he swallows. “Fuck.”
“Exactly. Me bent over, you behind, with this dress pulled up to my waist,” I whisper.
“Jesus. Will you excuse me for a minute?” he asks, his brow sweaty.
“Yeah, sure. Where are you going?”
“Bathroom,” he ekes out as he moves away from me.
Gina’s voice over my shoulder makes me jump as she asks, “So? Did it do the trick like I said it would?”
A husky chuckle leaves my mouth. “I believe so. He had to rush off to the bathroom for a minute.”
Gina throws back her head and a loud howl, resembling that of a wolf’s, lets loose. “Calm it down, girl.” I feel like I need to pat her on the head.
“I’ll bet you he had to rub a quick one out.”
“Shut up!” I glance around to make sure no one is in earshot.
“What the hell did you say to him?” Miss Nosy asks.
I play zipper lips and say, “Not saying a word.”
She sticks her lower lip out so far I’m afraid everyone will trip over it. “That’s so not fair. This was all my idea.”
“Um, no. The dress was your idea. Everything else was mine.”
Ryder shuffles up next to us and asks, “What are you two conspiring?”
“Nothing,” I answer quickly. “We’re all good here.”
The emcee interrupts this conversation, thank God, and kicks off the gala by asking all the golfers to step to the front of the room for acknowledgment. Mark still hasn’t returned, and I look around to see if he’s on his way back, but I can’t find him. I’m sure he’ll freak when he comes back and sees me up there in my half-naked concoction. The idea makes me laugh.
Once we’re all assembled, the emcee, who is one of the board members of the Make-A-Wish Foundation, rattles off all the statistics of the event from the number of attendees and players to the amount of money raised. It’s an impressive sum, and the round of applause nearly cracks my eardrums. The clapping goes on and on. Cameras flash forever, and when it’s finally over, I rejoin my group. Mark has finally returned, but his hands are fisted and he’s not happy.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Better now. Promise me something. Next time we go to something like this, you get my input on the dress.”
Laughing, I answer, “Oh, hell no. If you think I’d miss this, think again. This has been priceless.”
He growls as he takes my hand and pulls me in the direction of the bar. But the bar is not our destination as we pass it by.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
He doesn’t answer as he keeps walking. Finally, he stops in front of a door and opens it. It’s super dark inside, but he pushes me through and closes the door behind me. When he turns on the light, I find we are in a small storage closet that appears to be used for janitorial supplies.
“It’s time to bring that fantasy to life. I can’t be walking around this damn gala all night with a fucking boner that’s about to pop through my damn pants. Enough of this teasing of yours. Now, bend the fuck over and pull up your dress.”
MARK
I’d come close to swallowing my tongue when Riley walked out of our room earlier dressed for the gala. Despite the amount of fabric used on that dress, she’s not wearing nearly enough to control the wolfish side of me that wants to mark her as mine.
Greedily, I help her lift fistfuls of her skirt out of my way. The only thing covering her tight pussy is a small scrap of something no bigger than my hand.
“Fuck, Riley,” I gruff
ly say, as I free my cock from my pants.
Wickedly, she grins at me over her shoulder, knowing that she has me in knots over her choice of wardrobe or lack thereof.
“I thought you’d like that,” she teases.
I bend to bite her shoulder before capturing her mouth with a soul-baring kiss. This woman, she’s got me like no other.
Focusing on the task at hand, I probe her entrance with the head of my cock and find her wet and ready for me. I bite back a groan as I slide into her warmth, letting it envelop me.
She too is taken by all the sensations and moans so loudly, I have to cover her mouth with my hand.
“You’re going to have to be quiet or I’ll be forced to stop,” I chide.
After she nods, I remove my hand and brace it on the wall as I begin to move inside of her. With my other hand, I slide it under her dress and find her braless. I should have guessed with her back exposed, but women have all kinds of things they wear for different solutions, I just assumed.
“Dammit, Riley, you like teasing me. But you won’t think it’s funny if I go to jail tonight for killing any asshole who dares to look at you.”
She fucking giggles. I palm one of her perfect breasts and squeeze, which stops her laughter. Her neck stretches back as she moans.
“You like it when I lose control, don’t you?” I murmur into her ear.
She nods and bends her head toward the floor, getting lost in pleasure.
“Yeah, well, I like you on your knees taking my cock deep in your throat.”
Just picturing that has me tightening my fingers around the base of my cock so I don’t nut off like a cannon. No woman has made me lose control like she does.
The angle isn’t exactly right, and I have to use both of my hands to spread her ass a little so I can slide deeper into her cunt.
Sounds of slapping flesh and her pussy squeezing me so tightly with each push inside her have me on the edge. I move my fingers to rub over that bundle of nerves. She lifts up on her toes as her sex milks the cum right out of me.
I bend down to bite at her lip over her shoulder before kissing her to mute the noise each of us makes.
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