The Best Man

by Adriana Kraft

  Bad boy meets bad girl. Is there anything more?

  - o –

  Passionate, hard working and every inch a business woman, Chicago realtor Kitty Paige likes her sex raw and edgy, and sees no reason to limit herself to just one man. Never married and not quite forty, the striking blonde has successfully raised her daughter, Susan, and is already pushing her new-found freedom to the limits.

  Wealthy commodities middle-man and race horse owner Jared Jacobs is father of the best man at Susan’s wedding. He is smitten by the vision in yellow who exudes sex as she escorts her daughter down the aisle. Also single, the handsome mustached California ranch owner with mischievous eyes views his sex life as a series of splendid love affairs, and sets out to make Kitty next on the list.

  Together and apart, their chemistry is explosive, and their sparkling repartee and steamy sex catch both partners by surprise. Jared is first to recognize he’s fallen in love. When Kitty panics, can Jared finesse his every move and reel her in?

  The Best Man

  By

  Adriana Kraft

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  The Best Man

  By

  Adriana Kraft

  ISBN 978-0-9894693-0-2

  Copyright © 2013 by Adriana Kraft

  B&B Publishing

  1970 N. Leslie St. #560

  Pahrump, NV 89060

  Cover by

  Dawné Dominique

  DusktilDawn Designs

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Groaning politely, Kitty Paige stared at the ceiling of the hotel suite trying to encourage the young man between her legs, who was doing his best to satisfy her. He had a ways to go.

  His tongue had felt like sandpaper when he’d made what was apparently the obligatory pass at pleasuring her orally. At least he did have some staying power. He’d been pounding his cock in and out of her for the past five minutes. Finesse was not her daughter’s groom’s best man’s strong suit—selecting him was clearly not her best cougar moment.

  She scowled at the plaster ceiling swirls. She thought his name was Jason something or other.

  Perhaps it was a mistake to have him join her to finish that last bottle of champagne. Each of the four young men standing up with Brad was a hunk, just like her soon to be son-in-law, but the best man had caught her eye more than the others. He carried himself proudly and appeared very agile. She’d thought he had considerable promise for one night.

  She didn’t expect to hang around Seattle longer than that. The weather was too damn dreary. As soon as her daughter and new husband were on their way to Puerto Vallarta for their honeymoon, she’d be heading back to Chicago—she could get a decent cup of coffee there, too.

  She glanced down at the back of the young man’s head resting on her breastplate. He seemed quite taken with watching himself glide in and out of her. Or maybe he was trying to remember what was supposed to happen next. She exhaled. Enough was enough.

  “I’m ready, Jason.” She hoped she had his name right. If not, he didn’t try to correct her. She tapped his butt with her heels. He had to be ready. If she hadn’t pinched his cock earlier, he would’ve come in her mouth when she’d gotten him wet before tugging the condom on his shaft. “Come in me, boy.”

  He lifted his head and nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” He rose onto his hands and knees, altering his angle of penetration, and renewed his thrusting.

  She tilted her pelvis slightly and slid a hand down between them to caress her clitoris. She wasn’t going to be left out of this little crescendo. He might not know how to bring her off, but she did.

  “Damn, you’re hot,” he grunted, watching her claw at her clit.

  She grinned around clenched teeth when she felt his cock expand. He made no sound. She could only hear the slap of his hips against hers.

  Her eyes popped wide open when he abruptly pulled out of her.

  “I came,” he announced. He glanced at her fingers still working on her clit. “Wasn’t it good for you?”

  Ah, hell. She withdrew her hand. She’d take care of it later. “Sure,” she said. “You’re quite the stud. Now I need to get my beauty sleep to be rested for Susan and Brad’s wedding. I hope you don’t mind, but I rest best sleeping alone.”

  “No problem,” the young man said, sitting up. “I’d better get out of here or we might be at each other all night.”

  “That might be delightful, but it would be taxing. You run along and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She watched him carefully dress. After he buckled his belt and buttoned the last button on his shirt, he gave her a crooked smile. “I won’t forget this night, Mrs. Paige. You were fantastic.” He winked at her. “Hotter than your daughter.”

  Kitty jerked straight up. “Hotter than…” She covered her mouth and swallowed. “You fucked Susan.”

  He frowned. “Of course. No big deal. All the guys standing up have had her at least once. Doubt there’ll be many guys attending the wedding who haven’t. Now she’s Brad’s exclusively. Oh well.”

  Kitty tilted her head to the side. She couldn’t think of a thing to say. He waved at her as he headed for the door. “Bye. Susan’s hot, but you’re hotter.”

  When the door shut behind her most recent lover, Kitty slid down under the covers. She wanted to hide. She wanted to be back in Chicago, in her own home in the north suburbs. Jesus, she’d just fucked one of her daughter’s former lovers.

  How did that make her feel? Creepy, but then he’d made her feel creepy even before making his little comparative announcement. Old. Damn. Was she that old? Of course she was. Her daughter was twenty-two. She’d had her when she was nearly eighteen. She’d put too much faith in a condom and too much faith in the high school quarterback. Damn, that added up to forty—but she wasn’t forty yet. She had a little while left before crossing that threshold.

  She’d loved Susan with all her heart and soul. She’d done her best to raise her well, and Susan had done well for herself. She’d graduated with honors from Loyola with a degree in psychology. Apparently, she’d also earned kudos for bedroom skills.

  Kitty inhaled sharply. She could hardly chastise her daughter for honing those skills. Before Susan had moved into the college dorms, Kitty had tried to be fairly discreet with her own lovers. It wasn’t that she wanted to hide them from Susan, but she’d chosen not to flaunt them, either.

  The girl had asked for permission to go on the pill after her sixteenth birthday party. Susan had given her the just in case I do argument. Kitty had consented. While Susan was the best thing that ever happened to her, she didn’t wish premature motherhood on her daughter.

  Kitty peered at the door to the suite and let out a deep sigh. That was it. She’d fucked the best man, and he’d fucked Susan. She couldn’t take that back. He’d only given her a lot of consternation. And she hadn’t even come.

  Kitty rolled over and hugged a pillow. She’d get through tomorrow. She’d gotten through a lot over the years. But how could she look at the men at her daughter’s wedding without wondering which ones had slept with the bride?

  - o -

  Leaning against the banquet room wall, Jared Jacobs surreptitiously studied his prey one more time. The tall shapely blonde in the canary yellow dress and yellow stilettos had drawn his attention from the moment he’d seen her walking her dau
ghter down the aisle.

  She’d escorted the bride with her chin up and with a satisfied smile on her ruby lips. Apparently she and her daughter didn’t mind thumbing their noses at custom. Unlike many mothers of the bride he’d seen, this one did not carry a Kleenex in her hand. She probably didn’t have any in her tiny clutch purse, either. Tears wouldn’t come naturally to the fair-skinned female exuding confidence at the chapel and here at the reception.

  She appeared to laugh easily enough with acquaintances at the table where she was seated. But a careful observer would note that her laughter seldom reached her eyes. Like him, she was a sharp observer. She’d assessed everyone in the room, particularly the men. When her gaze had settled on his from across the room, she’d lingered ever so briefly before moving her attention to the person standing next to him.

  The small band began to play in earnest. Considerable banter and movement was occurring at the head table, where the groom helped his bride to her feet. Jared smiled. The traditional first dance was about to begin.

  He glanced back at the woman in yellow. Why hadn’t she sat at the head table along with the wedding party and the groom’s parents? He liked a woman who did things her way—to a point. He welcomed a challenge of most any kind. He had little doubt the woman in yellow would be a challenge.

  No one had bothered to introduce him to the mother of the bride. He’d made a point to find out what he could about her. Kitty Paige lived in Chicago. Never married, she’d raised her daughter by herself. To her credit, Susan had done well in school, in her profession and now in marriage. Her mother had little formal education beyond high school and apparently had no need for a husband. She certainly had no need for a husband’s second income. According to his sources, Kitty Paige was acknowledged, grudgingly by some, as one of the top ten most successful realtors in the Chicago area, specializing in high end residential and commercial properties. She could likely buy and sell anyone in the room.

  He smiled to himself. Well, most anyone. Jared combed his narrow mustache with his fingers and pushed away from the wall. The dance floor was already getting crowded.

  - o -

  Kitty lifted her chin as soon as the broad shouldered mustached man headed in her direction. She knew what he wanted. He’d been studying her much of the afternoon and evening. She was surprised it took him this long to come after her.

  She offered him a thin smile. How many times had he undressed her in his mind? Maybe as often as she’d undressed him. He was easy to look at. Probably late forties, early fifties at most. Fit. No pot belly, which she despised. Graying around the temples. Square chin and a cute mustache. Kitty shivered slightly, imagining how that Clark Gable mustache would feel rubbing against sensitive spots.

  She checked her watch and grimaced. Too bad she was catching the redeye back to Chicago—there wouldn’t be time to satisfy her mustache curiosity.

  “May I have this dance, Ms. Paige?”

  Trying to look appropriately surprised, Kitty peered into dark brown eyes that sparkled. He clearly knew she wasn’t surprised.

  “Of course,” she said, rising to her feet.

  She let him guide her to the small dance floor. She moved into his arms, trying not to react to his warm smile. He was accustomed to holding a woman. He held her close comfortably, resting a hand on the rise of her rump. “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage,” she said, eyeing him levelly. “You know my name, but I don’t know yours.”

  “Jared Jacobs.”

  “Friend of the groom, or the bride? I’m afraid since Susan moved out here, I don’t know most of her friends.”

  “I’ve been a friend of Brad’s family for years. I’ve met Susan several times. You’ve done a fine job raising your daughter, Ms. Paige.”

  “Thank you. Do call me Kitty. Ms. Paige makes me sound too motherly. So do you live in Seattle?”

  “Nope. I’m a fan of the sun. I work out of San Diego.”

  “That should be sunny enough. You say work out of. Don’t you live there, too?”

  “You’re not only a beautiful woman and a lovely dancer, you’re a good listener.”

  The music stopped for more toasts by the best man.

  “And you’re a bullshit artist.” She laughed at his scowl. “I’m not easily charmed—unless I want to be. So you haven’t answered my question.”

  “I’m a businessman. I have several interests,” Jared said, handing her a glass of champagne. “I’m a middle man for various overseas companies seeking buyers in this country—copper, steel, aluminum. Most anything, really.”

  “So you travel a lot.”

  “Maybe that’s why it feels like I work out of San Diego rather than live there. I understand you’re a successful business woman yourself.”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “That’s a matter of opinion. There’s always room for improvement.”

  “I also travel some to follow my horses.”

  “Horses?”

  “Race horses. Do you ever get out to Arlington Park?”

  “Of course. It’s such a beautiful place.” She’d heard the catch in his voice when he mentioned the horses. She understood the awe those majestic animals could inspire. “I’ve been to the Derby a couple times.”

  “Ah, so you have more than passing interests in the addictive beasts.” He gave her a broad smile, took her hand and guided her back to the dance floor.

  “Doesn’t every girl dream about horses?”

  “Most girls give up their childhood fantasies as reality smacks them in the faces.” He leaned away from her as they swayed to the music. “Somehow, I don’t think you do.”

  She grinned. “Maybe I should’ve, but I’m too stubborn for my own good. Someday I’m going to own a racehorse. I just haven’t gotten around to it yet.”

  “Maybe you haven’t found the right partner?”

  She saw his eyes teasing before she rested her head on his shoulder. “Maybe I’ve been too busy to look.” She’d add racehorses to her to do list as soon as she got back to Chicago. She had plenty of contacts. She might not have given up on her childhood fantasy, but she’d nearly forgotten it. She smiled into Jared’s suit coat. Maybe her daughter’s wedding would rekindle a dream.

  They danced to the slow music. Kitty smiled at the other couples on the floor. Most were rooted in place. Jared apparently liked to dance. They moved easily together.

  They danced in silence. By the third song in the set, they were in a darkened corner moving no more than anyone else. His large hands curved around her butt. She’d laced her fingers behind his neck.

  “Um,” he whispered. “You smell heavenly.”

  Kitty hid her smile. She’d been thinking the same thing about him. She couldn’t determine if it was his cologne or his manliness. “If you think you’re dancing with an angel, you’re going to be disappointed.”

  His fingers dug into her bottom. She wanted to purr when she felt his arousal growing larger. She’d been aware of its presence for a while, but now it was rising to serious proportions. Too bad she had a plane to catch.

  She swayed on her tiptoes, grinding her pubic bone against his thickening penis. If the ballroom had been darker, she would’ve lifted a leg to cradle his butt.

  “Jesus,” Jared said, gasping into her ear. “Jackson said you were hot.”

  Kitty jerked out of his grasp. “What?” She narrowed her eyes and ground her fists against her waist. “What the hell did you say?”

  “Don’t make a scene,” he said, in a low breath grabbing her hand. “Remember your daughter.”

  Heeding his advice, she let him hurry her out an exit to the hallway, where she whirled on him. “Explain yourself, you bastard. Who the hell is Jackson?”

  “I’m sorry,” Jared said, turning redder still. “The words just came out. I hadn’t expected you to try to get yourself off that way.”

  “I wasn’t.” Her denial didn’t ring true, even to her ears. She’d lost her bearings there for a moment. She never lo
st her bearings, particularly with a man. “What the hell did you mean?” She had him on the defensive, and that was where she wanted to keep him.

  “Jackson. Jackson Jacobs. My son. The best man.”

  “The best man,” she gagged. “Your son. Hot! You bastard.”

  “But that didn’t have anything to do with me wanting…”

  “A piece of the bride’s mother? Dream on.” Kitty gave him her best icy glare—the one she’d practiced as a young woman before her bedroom mirror. No man could withstand it. “I hope for the sake of any woman you ever hook up with, you’re a hell of a lot better than your son.” She peered down her nose. “But that seems doubtful. Thank God I’ve got to catch a plane.”

  She spun on her heel and marched down the hallway, leaving him fumbling for words.

  - o -

  Struggling for breath and equilibrium, Jared watched the shapely ass covered in yellow satin strut away from him. It was tempting to chase after her, press her against the wall, and convince her why she shouldn’t be worrying about making a plane.

  “She is hot,” he growled, jamming a fist against the carpeted wall. Damn, how had those words slipped out of his mouth? He never fucked up like that, not with a woman.

  Shit. They’d been so close. He could swear he’d felt her juices pooling as she’d begun to rub her pussy against his stiff cock in earnest.

  He looked down the empty hall. Maybe she had more self-discipline than he did. He tugged on the corner of his mustache. Closing his eyes, he easily recalled every curve of the woman in yellow.

  He smiled. She must like yellow. Would she like yellow roses? He didn’t take having a woman rebuff him easily, even if it was his mistake that led her to explode.

  Kitty Paige might be a bigger challenge than he’d expected, but he was sure she’d also make a very worthy conquest. It might be fun to get to know her better. A woman of complexity intrigued him.