Ruffles & Beaus

by Carina Adams

  She snorted. “Little late to ask, isn’t it?”

  “No. Out there, it could be a problem. Here we make our own rules.” He spread his arms wide, “Right, Rome? When you’re here, reality doesn’t matter. We do what we want. Fuck the social norms. Anything goes.”

  My fists clenched. He was drunk and didn’t know what he was saying. Hell, I was drunk. If we didn’t leave now, I was going to say shit I’d regret and then he’d mouth off and I’d punch him. It would be messy as fuck and Reid would find out and rub it in.

  “Okay, time to go.” I pushed my chair back and tried to stand. I hadn’t consumed that much, yet what I had hit me all at once. Before I could pull Cady to her feet, I half dropped back into the chair.

  “Sit your ass down. You aren’t driving. Neither one of you are.”

  “No. I didn’t eat enough to drink this much,” Cady agreed with a hiccup that made her giggle. “I’m a little tipsy.”

  “Your hungry? I can make you something.” I didn’t know which of them looked more surprised at my question. “I can cook,” I snapped.

  “But you don’t,” Andy reminded me. “Ever.”

  At the same time Cady covered her stomach with a hand. “God, no. I don’t want to get sick. We’re both exhausted. Can’t we just sleep it off here?”

  “Fuck, yes,” I nodded, and attempted to stand again. Successful, I pointed at my cousin. “You didn’t let the dipshit or his friends have my room, did you?”

  “Not yours, no.”

  “But?” I needed a bed before I crashed on the floor.

  “Every other room is taken,” his eyes moved to Cady.

  “Well, that’s a fucking problem.”

  “I can sleep on a couch or something,” she offered. “Or go back to the… wherever we were earlier.”

  “You’re not walking back to the cottage yourself. And, you’re not sleeping on the fucking couch with all those assholes here. You need a room.” I surveyed her face, remembering how she’d looked earlier as her hips swayed to the music. “One with a goddamn lock.”

  “Wow. You’re being obnoxious again. You heard him. There isn’t anywhere else,” she argued.

  “You can sleep on my couch,” Andy slurred. “No. I’ll sleep on my couch. You can have my bed. In my room. With a lock.”

  “Thank you!” She smiled up at me. “Happy?”

  No, I wasn’t fucking happy. There was no way in hell I was letting her spend the night in Andy’s room. Over my dead body. Although, seeing the disbelief on Reid’s face when he found out she’d shot him down and then bunked with Andy was almost too tempting to refuse. He’d probably try to kick my ass.

  I didn’t like the way my cousin’s mouth practically watered when he looked at her. Cady wasn’t his type any more than she was mine, but he’d had a lot to drink. And whiskey tinted glasses were a thousand times more dangerous than beer goggles.

  I stood there, a helpless bystander, as he gave her the same grin he’d always used on the adults to get himself out of trouble when we were kids. The one that said he was sweet and innocent and could be trusted. Lying asshole. Cady responded with a slow, lazy smile of her own, one filled with promises I couldn’t even comprehend.

  Not happening. My fingers locked around her upper arm and I hauled her to her feet before I knew what I was doing. “I’ve got it,” I snarled in his direction before I half dragged her up the back stairs and down the hall to my room.

  With every step we took she sputtered like an angry wet cat and tried to shake me off. My grip only tightened. As soon as we were in my room, with the lights on and the heavy door locked safely behind us, I let her push me away.

  “What in the hell are you doing?”

  “You said you were exhausted.” I lifted my chin toward the bed in the middle of the room as I dropped my suit jacket on the floor and pulled off my tie. “Get some rest.”

  “There’s no couch. Where are you going to sleep?”

  I had my shirt unbuttoned and on the pile before I answered. “You’re a smart girl. You figure it out.”

  As I reached for the fly on my pants, she nodded once. “Okay. So, I’ll be in Andy’s room.”

  I lunged for her as she twisted the handle, squishing her body between the door and me. My hands landed on top of hers, halting her. I hadn’t been prepared for how she’d feel. She wasn’t built like my other dancers, both shorter and curvier, but I hadn’t stopped to think about how soft that would make her. I wanted to sink into it and let her surround me.

  I fought whatever craziness my mind had started to manifest and put my mouth to her ear, desperate for her to hear me. “If you leave this room, I will spank your ass. I’m too fucking wasted to take on every man here, but don’t think I’m too far gone to haul you back to this room, tie you to the bed, and punish you.”

  Glimpses of that scenario ran through my mind and made me instantly hard. I had no idea where the thought had come from. I’d never tied any woman to my bed, or any where else, and I sure as shit had never spanked anyone in more than a playful manner. It should have disgusted me.

  We must have gotten a bad bottle of booze. It hadn’t been stored right or something. Maybe one of Alastair’s loser friends had laced it.

  She should have thrown her head back and broken my nose, or reacted the way any sensible woman would. Not Cady. Her breath caught and she shivered underneath me. Not from fear or cold, but because my words had gotten to her.

  She relaxed into me, yet neither of us said a word. Her scent, one I didn’t recognize, invaded my nostrils. I fought the urge to turn her around and kiss her, to beg her to let me fuck her against the door for the entire house to hear.

  Her breathing grew more ragged by the second and I knew she was feeling it, this undeniable attraction. She spun, her back to the door, perfect fat tits shoving into my chest, and I couldn’t think anymore. My fist wound itself into her hair, holding her in place, as I leaned down in slow motion, almost daring her to push me away, and captured her lips with mine.

  She tasted like strawberries and whiskey, her mouth warm and captivating as she gave me exactly what I wanted. It wasn’t enough. I bit her bottom lip lightly, tugging it open, so my tongue could find hers.

  Fingertips traced down my chest and up under my shirt, exploring. When they ran over my abs, Cady groaned as if I was the most delightful thing she’d ever touched. The sound made my dick jump. I worked hard, pushed myself to stay in shape, so I could accomplish all the things I wanted. It was a bonus to know she appreciated the effort.

  Jealous that she got to touch me while I acted like a saint and kept my hands in PG zones, I broke the kiss and stepped back. I wanted nothing more than to strip her out of the ugly, baggy clothes she’d put on and worship her body. I’d seen enough during practices and the performance to know exactly what she hid under there.

  Before I could follow through, she beat me to it. With a quick tug, her sweatshirt was over her head and on the floor. I’d expected her to be wearing one of her obnoxious tees, maybe the teddy from the show. Instead, a plain white tank clung to her every one of her curves. It was modest yet perfect and sexy as hell.

  My hands were on her hips before I could stop them and I pulled her into me. For a split second she didn’t touch me, but held her arms out straight. She stared at my lips and I found myself hesitating, hoping she’d make the next move. Her breath caught and she bit her lip in an attempt to suppress a groan. I ran my fingers up the middle of her back and fisted a handful of hair as I moved in to capture her lips again.

  In his spectacular fuck-face timing, Andrew chose that moment to pound on the door. “Yo, asshole. You forgot your phone. Reid’s blowing it up.”

  Cady ducked and spun away from the wood, eyes wide as she backed toward the bed. Before I could offer an explanation, or beg her to give me five minutes to get rid of the pest problem outside our door and get back to business, the brat smirked at me. Then she began to laugh.

  “Well,” she dragged
her teeth over her lip making me groan inwardly, “that was a surprise. No more alcohol for us.”

  Andy knocked again.

  “You get it. I’m going to,” her eyes darted around the room, “go to bed. So I can sleep.” She clarified. “And then you’re going to come to bed. For sleep. So we can get up in a few hours and pretend this never happened.”

  I swallowed at the lump in my throat. “That’s how we’re playing this?”

  “Partners don’t have sex, remember? It’s against the rules.”

  Fuck the goddamned stupid rules. I hated them. I was going to rewrite the employee manual first thing on Monday.

  Cady chuckled, as if she could hear my thoughts. “No, you’re not. They’re good rules. You don’t want to sleep with me. You’re just drunk.”

  “I said that out loud?”

  She giggled again and I couldn’t stop my own answering smile. “You did.” She moved forward, before I could stop her and pulled the door open a crack. “Give it to me,” she held out her hand.

  “Come next door and I will,” Andy’s husky voice replied as he handed her my iPhone. “I’ll give it to you so dirty you’ll be begging me for more.”

  Without a reply, she backed up quickly and slammed the door in his face. He obviously didn’t like his head attached to his body because I was going to remove it if he didn’t cut the shit.

  “Here,” she didn’t wait for me to take it, but shoved the phone into my chest. “Call Reid. Tell him you’re too drunk to drive, that I’m not any better, and we’re staying here. It’s been an,” her gaze settled on my lips again and her teeth sunk into her bottom lip, “interesting first day at my new job and I’m exhausted.”

  She turned away, dripped her jeans to the floor, and she face-planted onto the bed. “Good night.” It was no more than a mumble. The brat was out cold in seconds.

  I didn’t dial Reid’s number. Or anyone else. He hadn’t been the only one who had called repeatedly. I especially didn’t want to deal with the force that was Livie tonight. Not when I was drunk and I had a hot as fuck woman in my bed.

  No. Cady wasn’t hot. Cady was Ruffles, my employee. The bitter, snarky, clueless one. I wasn’t attracted to her. At all.

  We were drunk. People did stupid shit when they’d had as much to drink as we had. It didn’t mean anything.

  Cady definitely wasn’t Brooke. I wanted my fiancé back. And only my fiancé.

  That’s why it was perfectly safe for me to climb into the bed next to her. Friends could sleep in the same bed. The small width of the full size mattress wasn’t something I was used to, which was the only reason I threw an arm around her and hauled her back into my chest. She was soft and warm; that’s why I dropped kisses onto her neck and inhaled her scent.

  It was all fine. Completely innocent. Nothing more.

  Eleven

  Cady

  “We’re really not gonna talk about this?”

  I contemplated playing dumb, to ask what he was referring to with the hope he’d let it go, but I was too tired for games. “Nope.”

  I ignored the way my muscles groaned in protest and pulled my legs up onto the bucket seat in a crisscross position and arched my back in an attempt to stretch. I was sore. The exercise from the previous week, mixed with the alcohol I’d consumed, and the way I’d slept in the strange bed, had left me physically drained.

  Unfortunately, my mind wasn’t the least bit tired and drifted back to the morning over and over.

  I’d woken up to find Roman next to me, one of his thick arms thrown over me to prevent me from escaping. As I laid there, recalling the vivid details from events the night before and wondered how in the hell I was going to get up without waking him, Rome shifted in his sleep and pushed his morning wood into my ass. When he buried his face in my neck, an all too intimate gesture we never should have shared, I’d rolled over so fast that I’d broken the hold he had on me and fallen to the floor in a heap of blankets and messy hair.

  Panicked and disoriented, he’d flown out of bed, fists ready for God only knows what. He searched the room until his eyes settled on me. We’d stared at each other, saying a million things without uttering a word. We’d managed to avoid talking about it since.

  I wanted to forget the entire night.

  Roman reached over and turned the radio down, practically silencing some annoying classic rock song, yet I didn’t take my eyes off the textbook in my lap. It was a long ride, and I had been attempting to use the time to study before classes started on Tuesday. In reality, I’d read the same paragraph at least ten times.

  “Cady.”

  The way he said my name, so un-Roman-like, almost a plea, grabbed my attention. I glanced up to find him white knuckling the steering wheel. I sighed and slid the cap on the highlighter in my hand. He wasn’t going to ignore it.

  “There’s nothing to talk about.”

  Rome took his eyes off the road for a split second to send me an angry scowl. “Seriously?”

  I couldn’t stop the eye roll. “Seriously. People hook up all the time. It’s not like you’ve called every one-night-stand the next day to check on her.”

  Another nasty and annoyed look in my direction. After a moment, he shook his head slightly, as if he couldn’t believe my words, his jaw tense. The man was in serious need of a stress management course.

  “You do this a lot then?”

  I opened my mouth ready to tell a tall tale, but couldn’t do it. My teeth snapped down on my lies. “No. Actually we can add making out with someone I can’t stand to the list of things I’ve never done.” I pursed my lips. “Along with sleeping next to said asshole and having to do the walk of shame in front of his cousin who will never believe the night was incredibly PG.”

  “PG? That wasn’t like any of the movies I watched as a kid.” He dragged his teeth across his bottom lip. “It was a mature PG-13. If we hadn’t been interrupted, it would’ve been M.”

  Roman’s smug smile unnerved me. “Ah,” I dragged the word out, “but we were. So, nothing to talk about.”

  “I disagree.”

  I groaned loudly, not hiding my annoyance. “Please tell me you’re not one of those overly sensitive types who feels the need to talk every little thing to death.”

  “Fuck, no.”

  I nodded, relieved. Then, watched in horror as he shrugged and shot me a sheepish glance.

  “Well, maybe.” The corner of his mouth lifted in the most adorable way.

  I didn’t know what bothered me more; the fact that he wasn’t going to let it go, or the realization that part of me liked this side of him. Annoyed at myself, I sighed, snapped the book closed, and turned my body toward him.

  “Okay. If we talk about this now, we never have to discuss it again, right?”

  He nodded. “I want to make sure we’re on the same page.”

  “Apparently we’re not. Because I want to pretend it never happened and you don’t. Can’t we agree we had too much to drink and it’s not that big of a deal? It was just a kiss.”

  He took a deep breath, “Don’t take this the wrong way, okay?”

  I braced myself for something hurtful. Nothing good ever started that way. In fact, I usually was offended.

  “It’s never just a kiss. Someone always reads more into it. Women get attached. And clingy.”

  The unusual way he’d pronounced cling-gie distracted me. As his words sunk in, I couldn’t stop the laugh. When he didn’t join me, I cut it off mid chuckle.

  “Wait. You’re serious?”

  “Do I look like I’m kidding?”

  Roman never looked like he was anything but stuck-up serious, but I didn’t point that out.

  I leaned back against the door. “I’m not sure what to do with that.” There were so many things I wanted to say or ask. I’d never known anyone, of either gender, to get attached or clingy after one kiss. “I mean, we had too much to drink, so maybe on a normal day it would be better. But, I can promise you, even if it had blo
wn my socks off, I’m not going to turn into a stalker. There will be no collages of our names written in letters cut from newspapers circled with red hearts left on your desk.”

  For a split second amusement filled Rome’s eyes. “You’re a jackass. You know that, right?”

  “And you’re a cocky son-of-a-bitch if you think someone is going to fall head over heels after a kiss.”

  “It usually happens before the kiss.” His lips twitched.

  I felt my eyebrows skyrocket as I fought to keep my mouth closed. “Wow.” He was such a conceited ass.

  “Are you planning to quit?”

  I did a double take. “What? No.”

  “Then we have to work together. We’re not a couple. I don’t want to assume everything is fine only to have you get pissed off in a few weeks because you see me flirt with a woman at a bar. I don’t want this to blow up in our faces.”

  “Flirting involves talking with someone without growling or giving orders. If I ever saw you actually flirt, I’d be impressed. And shocked.” I twisted my lips in thought. “Or really uncomfortable.”

  “You didn’t have a problem with it last night.”

  “Ha!” I pointed at him. “You dragged me up the stairs and told me you were going to tie me to the bed and spank me.” I couldn’t keep the blush from invading my cheeks. “That is not flirting. That’s kinky foreplay.”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed, and he adjusted, clearly as uncomfortable as I was.

  “Yeah, about that-,”

  “Nope.” I interrupted, crossing my arms over my chest, “we do not need to talk about it, ever again.”

  “We do,” he insisted. “It was…,”

  “Oddly hot?” I finished for him as he searched for the words. “And then, everything after was…” I sighed. “If it hadn’t been you, I’d be messaging everyone with the story this morning.”

  “If it hadn’t been me?”

  I nodded. “Don’t get me wrong. There were some serious mental high-fives, but that’s as far as my bragging will go.”