by Denise Wells
He tells me how to hold onto his shoulders, put my heel on the peg and swing a leg over. I swear he tries to sneak a peek when I do.
Unzipped, his leather jacket hangs low enough on my sides that it covers the bulk of my thighs from anyone driving by. But I know, and Chance knows, that there is not a lot separating my bare skin from his. He starts the bike and I feel it vibrating beneath me.
“A girl could get used to this between her legs,” I whisper in Chance’s ear. He responds by reaching behind him and running his left hand up my calf.
“Hands off.” I slap him on the arm.
“Then don’t give a guy ideas, especially not when you’re commando on my ride.”
And with that, we are off.
I have to admit the ride is thrilling. And it’s not just the bike. It’s more the combination of everything: we are both dressed up, I’m straddling a beast of a machine, and I’ve got a tight hold on a really nicely built guy. I may find him to be distasteful on the inside, but that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate what he’s got on the outside.
It doesn’t take us long to arrive at the venue. He parks instead of using the valet.
“Can’t you valet a motorcycle?” I ask as he helps me off the bike.
“Not really, and you can usually park close enough that it doesn’t matter. But more importantly, I didn’t need all the valet boys seeing the goods of the girl on the back of my ride.”
“Good point.” I open my clutch to check my hair and makeup in the little built-in mirror, surprised to see that everything is still intact.
“Satisfied Ms. I’m-Not-High-Maintenance?”
I glare at him in response.
“Relax Ice Q, you look beautiful,” he says. I smile at him, grateful for the compliment.
“I’m going to get whiplash watching your moods flit back and forth. Make up your mind. Mad? Not mad?”
I roll my eyes at him and walk ahead into the hotel.
“I guess you’re going with mad at me,” he mutters from behind me.
We find Ethan and Lexie in line at one of the bars.
“Have you seen them yet?” I ask Lexie.
“More like have they seen us.” She shakes her head. “And the answer is no.”
“Good to know.”
Ethan is almost at the front of the line to the bar, when he turns to Lexie and says, “The happy couple is in that far corner there.” He points out their location. “Why don’t you ladies go surprise Kat-alicious and the man. Bauer and I’ll be right behind you with the drinks.”
“Ok!” Lexie bounces in place with excitement. “I want—”
“Champagne,” Ethan affirms.
“How’d you know?” Lexie smiles.
“It’s my job to know what the apple of my eye desires,” he says.
I touch Chance on the arm. “Can you get me a martini? Dirty. Please.”
“Coming right up, Ice Q.”
“Why do you call her that?” Ethan asks him.
“And that’s our cue to leave,” Lexie says, pulling me alongside her.
Brad sees us approaching before Kat does, and turns her to face him. When we reach them, he turns her back around just in time for us to yell surprise.
She looks good, really good. I tell her so. Her dress is sexy as hell and she’s wearing a wig that makes her look dangerous yet alluring. We exchange hugs and tell her that we are here to support her on her first big night out since going back into treatment. Because she doesn’t need to know yet that we are here because Brad plans to propose.
Chance and Ethan arrive with our drinks, one of the first times I’m actually happy to see Chance. Not that I’m not happy and excited for Kat, because I am. But marriage makes me uneasy. That whole idea of being with one person, the same person, for the rest of your life. Or the rest of theirs. I can’t think of anything more monotonous or tedious than that. And since engagements usually lead to marriage they make me uneasy as well. So, this martini is going to go a long way in helping with that uneasiness.
“I can’t believe you did this.” Kat turns to Brad a huge smile on her face. He shrugs in return as if to say it’s no big deal.
“And I really can’t believe you did this,” she turns to me and motions to Bauer.
“I’m offended, Cookie,” Bauer says. “Icy and I have become friends.”
“I wouldn’t go so far as to say friends,” I assert.
“How about tolerating one another for an evening for the sake of a friend,” Lexie suggests.
“I’ll drink to that,” I say with a grin.
“Hear, hear,” Ethan says raising his beer bottle. Chance shakes his head at the idea but drinks to it anyway. Brad excuses himself from the group, and everyone except Kat knows why.
The Chief calls everyone to their tables and we find our seats. I take the one farthest from Chance, so I can avoid him for the bulk of the evening.
The Chief announces a special presentation that’s about to take place, it’s cute to watch Kat look around for Brad, not realizing she is that presentation.
Brad gets up on the stage and starts talking about Kat, it takes her a minute to realize what’s going on. The mood at the table is practically giddy, and the rest of the proposal is nothing short of magical. This from the girl who doesn’t even like them. If I were the emotional type, it may have made me cry. It certainly made enough other women in attendance go all weepy in the eyes.
After dinner, Kat begs us all to stay for the dancing. There’s a live band and I have to admit they are really good. The lead singer is a woman with a very sultry and bluesy Etta James/Stevie Nicks kind of voice that is well suited to a lot of slow dancing. Which is why, I’m surprised when Chance grabs my hand and drags me to the floor.
The band is playing the song “Somebody Stand by Me” by Stevie Nicks, and the singer is doing it some serious justice. I expect Chance to pull me in for the grope and sway, but he surprises me with a standard slow dance stance.
My breath catches as he pulls me tight against him. I hate that my body responds to him. It’s been almost 10 years. And in those years, still the only one to ever get a physical reaction from me. At all.
He starts to guide me around the floor. And the man can move. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“Problem, Ice Queen?” he asks, one eyebrow arched.
“No. Why would you ask that?”
“You seem a little tense.”
“I’m not tense. Maybe you’re tense.” My voice is way too shrill for my liking.
“I would say there are parts of me that are very tense right now,” he murmurs into my ear. His breath hot on my neck.
Breath I can feel down to my very core.
I try to stay and dance with him for the entire song. But the longer I’m in his arms, the more palpable the sexual tension gets, which makes my desire for him that much stronger.
“If you’ll excuse me,” I say. “I need to visit the ladies room.” I retreat on shaky legs, feeling like a coward, looking for the restroom and then the bar, in that order.
Chapter 5
Chance
I watch her ass as she walks away, leaving me on the dance floor. It is a really fantastic ass. It’s too bad I’m going to be tied up for a while with Alex’s snooty bitch of an ex, or I might try something with Remi. There’s always time, I’m not going anywhere. Not that I’m looking for a relationship, just a good time.
I turn to head back and see a stacked blonde standing in front of me.
“Did your date abandon you?” she asks, her lips pursing into a small pout, as if she’s feeling sad for me.
“She did indeed. Care to keep me company until she returns?” I ask, gesturing to the dance floor. We finish out the song with me keeping a more demure distance and classic stance, and her trying to rub up against me in a way that is most definitely not lacking in suggestion or intent.
When the song ends, I make my way to the table. Ethan is there, looking a little forlorn.
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“You okay, man?” I grab my bourbon and take a seat next to him.
“Yeah, I’m good. Hey - you played a good game the other day, sucks you guys lost.”
“Thanks, man,” I say. “We’re not very good, but all we can do is try, right?”
“I hear you.”
“Does Matthews play too?” I ask of Kat’s new fiance’ not sure if I want him to or not.
“Not anymore. He spends most of his free time with Kat now, but he’ll come back to it, I’m sure.”
I nod in response, satisfied with that answer. I take a drink of my bourbon and look out over the dance floor. I see Kat and Matthews dancing, her with eyes closed and head leaning against his shoulder, content smile on her face; him looking down at her like he’s got all the riches in the world right there in his arms.
I’ve gotten over my general dislike of the guy, for the most part. It helps to see Kat so happy with him. I had the hots for her for a while the first time we worked together. Hard not to, she’s the whole package: smart, funny, gorgeous, determined, self-assured.
Kind of like Remi.
It also helps to see that he appreciates what he’s got. I may not be the right guy when it comes to relationships, been there done that, got the hell away from it. But I can recognize the value that they bring to some people’s lives.
Just like I can recognize that Ethan has the hots for Lexie. He wants to shackle her to his bedpost, pump her full of baby gravy, and sign life away as he knows it. Right on the dotted line. I’m watching him keep an eagle eye on her as she twirls around the dance floor with the Chief. And just like with Alex before, I feel the need to say something to make this guy feel better. What is it with all this sentimental bullshit going on in my head?
“He’s not competition.”
“What?” Ethan turns to me, the expression on his face one of confusion.
“The Chief, he’s not your competition with Pinky.”
“Pfft. I know that,” Ethan says. “I mean not that it matters. Lexie and I are just friends.”
“But you want more?”
“More what?” Remi asks as she approaches the table with a fresh martini in her hands. I try to remember how many that makes for her. Two? Three? I stand and pull her chair out for her.
“Why thank you, how very chivalrous of you.” She plants her ass on the seat. I feel a little jealous of the cushion as I help her scoot in. Acknowledging, and not for the first time tonight, it’s just that dress that’s between it and what I’m sure is sweet and creamy goodness between her legs.
I grunt, trying to get the thought back out of my head.
“And, the Neanderthal returns,” Remi scoffs, rolling her eyes.
Wonderful, my favorite reaction from her. Didn’t her mother ever tell her that her eyes will get stuck like that if she keeps rolling them?
“I wasn’t… never mind.”
“So, E.” Remi turns to face Ethan. “What is it that you want more of? Or do I already know?” She smiles, winks, and gestures toward the dance floor where Pinky is still dancing with the Chief. A fast song now, where both are twisting and twirling to the beat.
“It’s nothing,” Ethan says at the same time that I say, “He’s got the hots for Pinky.”
Ethan glares at me.
“We already knew that, simpleton. Try to keep up.” She pats my hand in what can only be described as a condescending manner.
“Does she know?” Ethan asks.
“I don’t think so,” Remi answers. “Not the extent of it at least. She thinks you’re just being cute.”
“God.” Ethan bangs his forehead on the table. “I hate cute!”
“Cute can be good,” I say with a smirk.
Ethan glares at me. “Really, Bauer. When have you ever been called cute?”
I have to think on that for a minute. Even though I’m certain the answer is never.
“That’s what I thought.” Ethan doesn’t even wait for me to say anything in response.
“Don’t try to help,” Remi says to me.
“Go cut in on the Chief,” I tell Ethan.
“Did you not hear what I just said?” Remi asks.
“Go,” I give Ethan a little push in the direction of the dance floor.
He gets up and heads for Lexie.
“Why are you encouraging him?” Remi asks.
“What’s the harm, Ice Q?”
“She’s not the girl for him, Chance.”
“How do you know? ‘Cause you are?” I ignore the twinge of jealousy that runs through me.
“Good God, no,” she laughs. I ignore the relief that I feel as well.
“What’s wrong with him?”
“There’s nothing wrong with him. Lexie is still hung up on her college sweetheart. She has been for a while. I don’t think that’s changing any time soon.”
“You never know,” I say. Mostly just to keep arguing with her.
“When did you become the relationship guru?”
“I’m not. I’m just saying you can’t predict what draws people together when it does. And you never know, something could draw them together. I mean, look at them.” I gesture to the dance floor. Ethan has cut in on the Chief and is attempting a tango type move with Lexie to a particularly rousing version of The Lady Is A Tramp. Her head is thrown back and all you can see of her face is her smile. It’s that big.
“She’s having a blast.”
“Lexie always has a blast. That’s just her personality.”
“Too bad that hasn’t rubbed off on you,” I say, before I can stop myself.
“Excuse me?” she asks, her tone cold.
“I’m just saying, you could loosen up a bit. Maybe pull that stick out of your ass every once in a while.”
Her eyes narrow as she glares at me. I can almost feel the anger radiating off her. She’s practically vibrating with it.
“I do not have a stick up my ass.”
“Prove it.”
“I don’t have to prove anything to you. You can go to hell.”
“And, score one for me.” I tick off an imaginary mark in the air.
“Score one? Score shit. There’s no score. And if there were, you wouldn’t have that one. I would.”
“How’d you score, gorgeous?”
She sits there, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her tits look fabulous like this. Twin mounds of white, creamy flesh just waiting to bust free from the confines of that oh-so-sinful dress; begging to fill my hands and mouth with their deliciousness.
“Eyes up here, asshole.” She tilts my chin up.
God, she’s stunning when she’s pissed. Gaze piercing, cheeks slightly pink, red lips pursed. I don’t even care that she caught me eyeing her rack. It was totally worth it.
“You’re exquisite when you’re mad,” I tell her.
“Flattery will get you nowhere.”
“That’s not what I heard,” I smirk.
“Oh, funny. Haha,” she says dryly. “Does this attitude actually work for you?”
“I’ve had no complaints, Icy Q.”
“That’s because women are idiots.”
“Do you count yourself in that classification?”
She rolls her eyes at me, then pushes her chair back and stands. “I’m going to the bar.”
“Again? I’ll come with you,” I say.
“You don’t need any more to drink. You’re driving, remember?”
“I’ve had two bourbons over four hours, I think I’m fine.” I stand.
She stares at me, her face impassive, and her eyes hard.
“Fine. I’ll get water,” I say.
“I’ll bring you back a glass.” Her voice is cold. “I could do for some time without your company.”
I sit back down and, once again, watch her ass sway as she walks away. I don’t care how cold she is, that view will ever get old.
Chapter 6
Remi
I can feel him watching my ass as I walk away. I can’t te
ll if I like it or not. He infuriates me to no end. I can’t stand his cockiness or his attitude, and he’s rude too. How the man has ever been laid is beyond me.
Except that most women really are idiots.
I turn back to look at our table as I stand in line at the bar, relieved to see that both couples have returned from dancing, Brad and Kat, and Ethan and Lexie. Kat is on Brad’s lap and he’s nuzzling her neck, making her squirm ever so slightly.
I admire what they have. It would never work for me, but I’m happy they have it. I can’t imagine having to deal with the same man every day. Having him know your schedule, your habits, how you spend your down time, what you’re like on your period, what you look like first thing in the morning, and how you smell after working out. All of it just sounds nauseating and exhausting. When do you get a break?
But Brad and Kat are all in. Like all the fucking way in. And it doesn’t seem to bother Kat at all. He’s seen her at her best and her absolute worst, I mean, he’s held her hair back when she’s vomited. A shiver of disgust runs through me.
Chance looks up from talking to Lexie and catches my eye from across the room. I look away quickly and turn back toward the front of the line. There was a time when he held my hair back when I vomited.
God, I can’t think of anything worse than that night. Anything more demeaning. But, I’ll give him credit, he’d handled it well.
It was almost ten years ago now. And still the most humiliating thing I’ve ever experienced.
My roommate had convinced me to go to a party with her, considering my normal Friday night consisted of books or movies, a party was completely out of my norm. Our college’s rugby team was all the rage, and they’d won some sort of championship, so the celebration was huge. And, in a house filled with girls wearing tiny denim short-shorts, and cut-off U of C Rugby shirts and jerseys, my outfit stood out.
I was used to standing out, my style had (and has) never conformed to the fashion of the time I’m in. But this night was a little different. It made me feel almost self-conscious about how I looked.
My roommate assured me I looked great, but black cigarette pants, white/black polka dot halter, and peep-toe heels don’t exactly blend in a room filled with shirtless, sweaty men playing beer pong and passing around scantily clad co-eds like they were candy.