Wicked Pleasure

by Taryn Leigh Taylor

  The thought was scary enough to make her pull back, and as she stood there in the circle of his arms, trying desperately to catch her breath, the look on his face did nothing to ease the prickle at the base of her neck. Because the way he was looking at her made her think that maybe he didn’t want to let her go, either.

  “I’ll see you later.”

  She stood there, stock still, and for the second time that morning, watched him until he’d disappeared up the stairs. When she heard him close the door, AJ took what felt like her first normal breath since she’d woken up in the middle of the night, plastered against Liam’s big, hard body.

  Focus.

  She needed to concentrate on this mystery code, and not think about Liam, or his fancy suits, or his magic kisses, or his hard parts. That decided, she headed back to code-breaking.

  But, she supposed, first she should probably google “black tie” and see just what kind of trouble she’d signed up for.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  RODEO. FUCKING. DRIVE.

  She should have known.

  “You’re joking, right?”

  “I have to pick up my tuxedo right over there.”

  AJ didn’t bother to look where he pointed. She was too busy staring down the store in front of her. She tugged the cuffs of her hoodie out from under her leather jacket, so that they covered the heels of her hands.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  She nodded distractedly, vaguely aware of the knot of snakes forming in her stomach. After several more minutes of psyching herself out, and then up, AJ set her shoulders and strode purposefully toward the door.

  You can get further than you think just by acting like you belong. One of the first rules of running a successful con. Apparently, it didn’t apply to posh stores with pinch-faced women in uncomfortable shoes who hadn’t ingested carbs in the last decade.

  The closest harpy swooped in before she’d made it to one of the racks. AJ did not miss the cool once-over, or how it lingered on her boots.

  “Can I help you?”

  “Just looking right now,” AJ informed her, feinting left before passing her on the right. Cautiously, she approached a shimmery silver gown displayed to perfection on one of the faceless, avant-garde mannequins at the center of the shop. It was gorgeous, like liquid metal. Strapless. Strong. Sexy.

  “That’s very expensive,” her new shadow cautioned.

  “I assumed.” AJ turned to face her, thumbing at the dress. “Do you have anything like this in black?”

  The blonde’s eyes hardened. “Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear.”

  “Oh, no. You did.” AJ walked farther into the store, stopping beside a long, floaty black number with kind of a rhinestone shoulder holster thing at the top. Well, probably not rhinestones. Swarovski crystals or something.

  When she reached out to touch it, the woman made a strangled sound deep in her throat, so AJ followed through, just to be a pain in the ass, sliding her finger along the jewels. “Quality craftsmanship,” she said. “I’ll give it a try.”

  “Ma’am, I really must ask you to refrain from...” Her voice trailed off, and her glower turned into wide-eyed astonishment. “Good afternoon, sir. I’m Ashley. May I hang that up at the counter for you while you look around?” she asked, plowing past AJ with the force of a heat-seeking missile.

  The analogy proved even more accurate when AJ turned to see the object of her attention. Liam surrendered his garment bag, scanning the boutique, as though unaware that every woman in the store had turned to ogle him. His eyes stopped on her, and AJ ignored the hit of pride and lust that swirled in her blood as he started toward her. She was not unaware of the surprised looks that accompanied his approach.

  “How’s it going?”

  “Better now.” AJ shot him a flirty once-over before grabbing his tie and tugging him close. She ignored the questioning raise of his eyebrows right before she indulged in a soft, slow, vaguely-inappropriate-for-public-consumption kiss.

  “What is happening right now?” There was a rasp in his voice that hadn’t been there in his previous question. His hand had come to rest on her hip during the tongue-wrestle, and now his index finger slipped under the hem of her hoodie and moved upward until he found skin.

  AJ leaned close to his ear. “Revenge.”

  For the sake of their audience, she let a saccharine smile drift across her lips as she pulled back and fiddled with his tie like she gave a shit about wrinkles, or crookedness, or whatever television housewives were trying to fix when they did this.

  Her little helper reappeared at AJ’s side. “I was just assisting your...uh, we were just picking the perfect gown. Is there anything in particular you’d like to see her in?”

  A different, non-Liam-related heat worked its way through AJ’s veins as she turned on the blonde. “I’ve been picking out my own clothes since I was eight years old, so I think I’ve got this under control without him. If you could just get me the dress I already told you I wanted to try on, that would be awesome.” AJ soaked up the eye daggers being shot her way like a power source. “Or perhaps I didn’t make myself clear.”

  A faint buzz interrupted their glare-off, and they both turned as Liam reached into his suit and produced his phone. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment, ladies, I need to take this.”

  Liam greeted the caller as he stepped away to take care of business.

  With a pouty look on her face, Ashley reached for the dress, but at the last second, AJ stopped her. “You know what? I changed my mind. I think I’ll try on the silver one instead. And I’ll need some shoes, too.”

  “Of course, ma’am. Right away.”

  AJ did not miss the snide tone of voice. She was grinning as she followed Ashley to the dressing rooms. Shopping was not nearly as bad as she’d remembered it.

  * * *

  AJ stared at the incongruous sight of herself in the slinky silver dress. It was...a lot. Like something a femme fatale in a spy movie might wear to kill a pervy head of state with her poisoned lipstick. Which, if she was being honest, made her like it even more.

  She grabbed her phone from her jacket, which she’d abandoned on the fancy antique-looking chair in the corner of the dressing room with her jeans and shirt and bra, and sent a quick text. Three letters. SOS.

  She tucked her phone back in her pocket and stared at herself in the mirror. Front. Side. Front again. Over her shoulder.

  “AJ?”

  Liam’s voice startled her from her inspection, and she shoved her curls back from her face and took a deep breath. “Here.”

  She shoved her hand through the split in the heavy velvet and beckoned him over.

  “What’s the emergency?” he asked from the other side of the curtain.

  “Get in here,” she whispered. She hoped it sounded insistent, rather than panicked.

  After a moment in which she assumed he was waiting for the coast to clear, he ducked into the dressing room.

  “Is this okay for tonight? Or is it way too much? You said you’re wearing a tux, right?”

  He stared at her. And stared at her. And stared some more.

  The cubicle, which had seemed rather spacious before Liam’s arrival, suddenly felt like it was shrinking. She grew antsy as she waited for the verdict.

  “Well?”

  “Holy shit.”

  She tried to look at herself in the mirror, but he blocked it completely from her view. “What?”

  “I was expecting black.”

  AJ’s eyes widened as she looked down at herself. Maybe she should have—

  “This is better.”

  She glanced up. “Yeah?”

  His gaze roamed over her, and her nipples tightened in response. It was very inconvenient.

  “You shouldn’t hide all that from the world.”

  The
re was too much sincerity in his voice. It made her cheeks hot and tugged her focus to anything but his eyes. “Boob man, huh? Should have guessed by your bevy of interchangeable tabloid beauties.”

  “I’m not talking about your boobs. I’m talking about you.”

  She risked a glance at him, and what she saw turned her knees spongy. Lust, yes, but something else gleamed in the depths of his hazel eyes, and when she recognized it, her brain got hot, like emotion was short-circuiting her motherboard. “Don’t look at me like that.”

  “Like what?” he asked, his voice low. “Like you’re so fucking gorgeous that I’m going to have to keep my jacket buttoned all night?”

  She shook her head, and her tongue darted out in an attempt to moisten her lips even though her mouth was dry. “Like you’re proud of me. It’s just a dress.”

  “It’s a hell of a dress,” Liam countered, “but that’s not why I’m proud of you.”

  Don’t ask. “Then why?”

  “Because you stood up for yourself against what’s-her-name. Because you chose a dress that wasn’t black. Because you’re out in the world with me.”

  The reasons hit with devastating precision, as though someone had fed him a script of the most perfect things to say. It was as though he knew how much she wanted to blend into the shadows where things were comfortable, but also how much she’d missed the light.

  “I’m glad you said yes.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  His eyes lowered to half-mast as she stepped close. “AJ...”

  It sounded kind of like a warning, but she ignored it.

  “How glad?”

  He swooped in and captured her lips, walking her backward until she was pressed against the wall that divided her cubicle from the one beside it. He braced a hand against the fancy embossed wallpaper on either side of her head, licking into her mouth, and she savored the taste of him, the mastery of his tongue, as she picked his pocket, liberating the condom from his leather billfold before tucking it back into his suit jacket.

  They were both panting as he broke the kiss. He glanced down as she ripped open the foil, then back up at her. Connection crackled in the air between them, high voltage, like always. Maintaining eye contact, AJ grabbed him by the waistband of his pants and pulled him a step closer. Liam obliged her, pressing his forearms against the wall instead of his hands, cutting the distance between their bodies as she undid his pants.

  The sounds from outside the dressing room seemed muted and far away compared to the beat of her heart and the rasp of her breath. Still, the rise and fall of conversation, the clop of high heels against polished wood floors, the metallic scrape of curtain rings on metal rods, all danced around the edge of her consciousness, ratcheting up her need as she freed him from his underwear. He was hot and hard in her hand, and his stifled groan as she wrapped her fingers around his pulsing cock sent heat rushing through her.

  This was what she craved. Danger. Excitement.

  Risky, dirty sex in a dressing room with a man who fucked like he was born to do it.

  This morning had been an anomaly. It didn’t mean anything except that she was horny and he was willing. Sex hormones masquerading as feelings. A little weirdness because she hadn’t spent a whole night with another human being in years.

  But now, things were back to normal. Or at least they would be, she decided, working the condom down the length of his shaft with a long, slow stroke that made his breath catch in his throat.

  Liam dragged his hands down the wall on either side of her body, close, but not touching her. Anticipation made her restless, and she shifted her shoulder blades against the wall. When his fingers finally brushed against the flare of her hips, her breath came out in a rush. Leaning his forehead against hers, Liam inched the expensive material up, then up some more, so that it bunched around her waist. The tight fit around her hips loosened as the thigh-high slit finally reached waist level. He took quick advantage of the newly provided access, tugging her panties far enough down her thighs that gravity took over.

  And then she was wrapping her arms around his neck and he was lifting her up his body, bracing her between him and the wall as she wrapped her legs around him. The first rock of his hips, the intense friction of his cock between her legs, sent pleasure spiraling through her. His breath unleashed a wave of goose bumps against her neck, and the deliciously slow grind of their bodies had her all keyed up. But it wasn’t enough. She reached between them to reposition him, and she gasped when he slid inside her.

  Liam caught the sound with his mouth, and she was lost. In his kiss, in the drive of his hips, in the pressure building between her legs. She didn’t understand this thing between them, how he could turn her on, light her up, with so little effort. It might have pissed her off, the power he had, if he wasn’t right there with her, on the brink of sanity.

  “Are you doing okay in there?”

  They froze at the sound of Ashley’s bored voice, a mere black velvet panel away, eyes wide as they stared at each other.

  “Hello?”

  Oh, sure. Now she was going for salesperson of the year?

  “Um, yeah.” It was a bit strained. AJ cleared her throat and tried again. “Yep. Fine.”

  “Just fine?” Liam whispered, and she shot him a warning look—the one that said shut the hell up.

  “It fits okay?”

  Liam raised his brows as if seconding the question, but before AJ could roll her eyes, which was no more than he deserved, he canted his hips, unleashing a shock wave of electrical pulses deep in her belly.

  AJ bit back a moan. She wanted to come so bad. “I’m good.” AJ tightened her ankles, her heels digging into his ass, pressing him closer. At least she would be soon.

  “Okay.”

  God, why wouldn’t Blondie leave already so Liam could finish what he’d started here and put them both out of such exquisite misery?

  “I just thought it might be a little small.”

  AJ ignored the implied insult, distracted by Liam’s cocky smirk. She glared at him. “It’s adequate.”

  He flexed his hips, driving slow and deep, a refutation of her understatement, and AJ almost lost her grip on his shoulders at the overwhelming sensation.

  I hate you, she mouthed.

  Liam leaned close, flattening her aching breasts against his chest, ramping up the level of her need. Every part of her was on fire for him. “Liar,” he whispered, before nipping her earlobe.

  “I’ll be done in here in just a minute,” AJ managed.

  Liam thrust again. Again.

  Thirty seconds, she revised.

  “Whatever. I’ll be out front.”

  AJ attacked his mouth with a desperation she couldn’t understand, let alone control. His left hand tightened against the back of her thigh, his fingers digging into her skin, and she writhed against him as he sped the pace of his hips.

  Then suddenly, his right hand was between them, and his thumb circled her clit and she imploded, her orgasm flashing through her like heat lightning, sparking through her veins. Liam’s hips jerked, and he kissed her harder, muffling his groan against her mouth as his cock pulsed deep inside her.

  She was trembling as she unhooked her legs from around his waist and found her footing. Liam didn’t let her go right away, as though he, too, didn’t quite trust himself to stand without support.

  AJ sucked air into her lungs and let her heart rate even out. She tugged the silver material back down her hips as Liam straightened up, taking care of his own situation.

  Somebody walked past the dressing room, and AJ waited until the sound of footsteps faded into the distance before she spoke. “So, I think I’ll get the dress.”

  His grin was downright rakish. “Well, it obviously has my vote.”

  “You’d vote for a paper bag if it made my boobs look this good.”


  “If you think the only reason you just got fucked to within an inch of both our lives in a fitting room is because your boobs look great, then you’re not giving yourself enough credit. And if you think all it takes to make me risk my business reputation with a scandalous charge of lewd conduct in a public place is great boobs, then you’re not giving me enough credit.”

  And on that incredible confession, he lifted her chin with a finger and took her mouth in the softest, most sensual open-mouth-but-no-tongue kiss she’d ever experienced.

  She wanted to make out with him until they both died from lack of oxygen.

  Sadly, Liam pulled back before that became a viable option.

  “I’ll wait for you out there.” He moved the edge of the curtain ever so slightly to check if the coast was clear, and a moment later, he ducked out of the dressing room. When he was gone, AJ leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes.

  What had he said when he’d first seen her in the dress? Holy shit?

  Yeah, she seconded that.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “YOUR LIFE IS RIDICULOUS. You know that, right?”

  He exchanged the key to the Aston Martin for a valet ticket and tucked it into the interior pocket of his tux. Liam let his eyes wander over her profile, while she stared at the formidable Bel Air mansion before them.

  She’d worn her hair down. Her makeup was minimal, though her eyes seemed more defined than usual and her lips seemed shinier. The dress, well, the dress set her off to perfection.

  “It looks pretty good from where I’m standing,” he countered before extending his arm.

  Her startled smile was pleased as she accepted his elbow. He liked surprising her, knocking through her cynicism and witnessing glimpses of her enjoying herself. She’d been through a lot, trauma he couldn’t even begin to understand, and her strength and resilience was incredible.

  “Ready?”

  “As I’ll ever be,” she returned, and they started up the lantern-lit walkway. Two liveried doormen pulled open the imposing wooden doors as they approached, and classical music spilled out into the night.