Husband Stay (Husband #2) (23 page)

“We’ve only just
met.” He smiled, showing off teeth that had been capped in gold, and it was all
I could do not to shudder. On someone else it might have looked luxe, but this
guy was creepy with a capital C.

“I’m on my way to
the toilet,” I said quite clearly. “If you stop me there might be a problem.”

Better to be
embarrassed than to be groped.

“Do you know the
way?” he asked. “I can show you.” There was something about his smile that
completely unnerved me and I found myself going very still, as if I was
frightened that a sudden move would make him pounce. There was no way I was
going
anywhere
with this guy.

“My husband
doesn’t like me to talk to strange men.” I couldn’t help the quaver in my
voice. I was starting to get scared, and had trotted out the first defense I
could think of.

The horrible man
burst out laughing, but in the next second I felt an arm come around my waist
from behind, and I knew it was Jack, even before he spoke. I could smell his
aftershave, and the warmth of his body was so familiar I wanted to melt back
into it.

“Correct,” he
snapped, and the man in front of me stopped laughing. “I get very tense when
strange men accost my wife.”

Jack’s voice was
throbbing with tension, and I suddenly realized from the way the creep’s eyes had
narrowed that this could end up in a brawl. I found my voice, “Particularly when
I’m about to pee.” I was hoping that would deflate the testosterone bubble surrounding
me.

“Husband, eh?” the
creepy man said, and looked from one of us to the other. “Then good luck to you,
matie.” He nodded at Jack and walked off.

I didn’t bother to
breathe a sigh of relief. I just wanted Jack, so I turned in his arms. “Why are
you here?”

How had he wangled
an invite to such an exclusive event?

Not that I cared,
but I had to start somewhere. I couldn’t just kiss him and rip his beautiful
black suit off and—

“Because I’m an
idiot.” He was glaring, but I could see he wasn’t angry at me. Still, my heart
rose in my throat at the thought that he might walk away. “Because Tug fucking
Dunn couldn’t look after a Volkswagen, let alone something precious like—”

Precious?

He breathed heavily
through his mouth while we stared at each other, then his gaze dipped to take
in the curves of my white lace dress and the peekaboo spaces the lace didn’t
cover. I could feel my face warming, but I didn’t care.

The party
clattered on around us with raucous music in the background, but I was
completely oblivious to every single thing apart from Jack—the way he looked at
me, the way his lips pressed together, almost as if he was holding something
in.

“Thank you,” I
said, in case I forgot. And I waved vaguely in the direction the creep had
exited.

“You need a
bodyguard,” he said, almost accusingly. “Someone like that Nicholas Markes who
was at your apartment.”

“How do
you
know
his name?”

“I’m an idiot,” he
said again, as if I should have remembered. “Only an idiot would spend his time
thinking about a woman who…” He waved an arm around, almost connecting with the
couple dancing behind him. “…isn’t right for him.”

The words caught
me like a shove in the solar plexus—compounding the rejection I’d felt every
time I’d listened to his recorded message. The Angela of a year ago would have
been demoralized by this fresh rejection. She would have slunk away with her
tail between her legs. But I suddenly realized, that wasn’t me anymore.

This new Angela
had determination, and it rallied inside me. I knew he desired me, so I stepped
close, grabbed his suit coat and pulled him down so I could whisper in his ear.
“You said I was perfect. That time, against the wall—”

And that was as
far as I got before his head turned and his lips closed over mine and sweet
heat of his kiss brought every tingling nerve-ending to throbbing life.

It was
so
beautiful,
because in that moment my heart soared and I knew, I just knew that I was in
love with him.

So I kissed him
with all I had, not trying to seduce him, but trying to show him my love, and
before I knew it the passion was overlaid with a simmering tenderness that made
me want to cry.

He had to love me.
No man could kiss like that and not feel
something.
Maybe Louella was
right. Maybe he didn’t know. And if she was right, I needed to grab this
opportunity while I had it.

So I pulled away.
“I’m done with this party.”

“I’m staying
upstairs.”

“Good. I
desperately need to pee.” And there was
no way
I was leaving his side
until I had him naked. Only then would I be sure he wasn’t going to change his
mind.

We found Tug
cozied up in a booth with a boy band. He barely cared that I was leaving with
Jack. Then after ten agonizing minutes of keeping our hands off each other as
we walked past film crews and hotel staff, we were finally inside Jack’s suite
and he had me against the door again, his big hands gliding over my breasts,
driving me completely insane.

“Nipples up,” he
whispered.

“I have to pee.
Seriously.” Walking away from him was the last thing I wanted, but nature wins
out.

He pulled back and
smiled at me with that wicked
I’m going to fuck you and you’re going to like
it
smile that I adored. “Can I watch?”

“No! Jill would
never speak to me again.”

“Jill the
blabbermouth? Don’t you owe her for the
don’t fake it
indiscretion?”

I laughed and
shook my head. “Maybe. But you’re not watching me peel out of Spanx. It’s not a
sexy look.”

His smiled faded.
“Everything about you is sexy. And I can’t imagine a future that doesn’t
involve making you come. But…”

He frowned, and I
pressed a finger against his lips, mindful of Louella’s advice. “Just stay with
me tonight. Don’t think about tomorrow.”

I held my breath
as he thought about that and it seemed to take him a long time, but at last he
nodded. “Okay. But only if I can peel off the dress.”

I grinned. “Zipper
at the back.” And I turned in his arms.

He peeled it down,
slowly, leaning in to kiss the back of my neck while he did, and my head fell
forward. The tendrils of hair fell out of my eyes and my nipples
ached
.
I desperately wanted to feel his mouth on them, but I also wanted to make this
last, despite my overfull bladder.

Somehow that
uncomfortable sensation down low added to the tingles as his large hands slid
over my shoulders, pushing the dress forward so it fell to my waist, then those
hands slipped over my breasts and I sucked in a shaky breath before they slid
down to my hips to ease the dress off, being careful of my cast.

The slinky fabric
pooled at my feet, leaving me in my very high white heels and skin colored
Spanx.

“Fuck,” he said
softly, then he swallowed so loudly I could hear it over the faint hum of the
air conditioning. “Leave the shoes on.”

“Okay.”

I was about to
walk into the bathroom I could see a few paces away but he whipped an arm
around my waist and pulled me back gently into his body. I could feel his
erection against my bottom, and as his hands slid up my midriff to cover my breasts,
encased in the corseting Spanx, I pressed my ass back into him and sighed.

“You come first,”
he said softly against my ear. “Every time.”

“I like that rule.”

He laughed softly,
then he let me go and I strode into the black marble bathroom as if I was an
Amazon and not a bouncy, curvy woman who’d spent half her life trying to contain
that jiggle.

When I had the
Spanx off—a one-handed contortion I would be glad never to repeat again—I indulged
in the longest pee I could remember. Then I helped myself to his oversized shower
to get clean, but as I was finishing, Jack came into the bathroom and I stopped
rinsing to watch him strip off.

There’s something
inherently sexy about a man in a suit, so when a man like Jack—who has a body
to die for—strips his off…
oh my
. I leant back on the black shower tiles
and shamelessly watched him, loving the length of his thighs and way his
erection poked out from under his white dress shirt before he stripped that off
too. His shoulders were so wide, and that delicious chest, so big and buff. I
wanted to smear myself over it and never let go.

Then he walked
toward me with such hunger in his eyes, I felt the throb of it inside my own
chest.

“I like you
watching me.” His voice was husky and his hands settled on my waist. Then they
slid around to cup my ass and pull me into him for a kiss that went on for so
long I forgot where we were until he stopped and I felt the shower spray on my
leg again.

Then I remembered,
I had an agenda tonight—doing things with Jack that I’d never done with a man
before. I needed to get started with that. So I swallowed down nerves and said,
“I’m clean. Let’s see about you, Mr. Davenworth.”

He smiled that
cheeky smile of his and passed me the soap. “Knock yourself out.”

I turned him
around and moved his hands up to rest on the tiles, so he was facing away from
me and spread-eagled. Then I started on his back, knowing this would be less
nerve-wracking if he wasn’t watching my face. “So, are there any parts that
might need special attention?” I asked as guilelessly as I could. He said
nothing so I added, “I’ve only got one hand, so I might need to linger in some
places, to be sure the job is done right.”

He rested his
forehead on the tiles and groaned. “This is going to kill me.”

I had never
explored a man’s body like this before, but the Angela I had become—the Angela that
Jack had somehow activated—was a lustful, curious creature who delighted in
stroking and scratching and fondling.

When I’d finished
caressing his beautiful back—under the guise of soaping him up—not to mention
those amazingly hard pecs on the other side, I let my hand drift down his belly,
and I adored the way his scrumptious backside tensed as my hand slid lower.
Then I was touching his erection with my soapy fingers and my own breath caught
in excitement as I stroked the length of it, marveling at how it affected me
when he groaned, low in his throat.

I immediately felt
a clutching sensation down low, as if he was touching me. There was definitely
something sexy about hearing your lover’s sounds of pleasure, and I could
understand now why Jack was so intent on mine.

So I concentrated
on his, marveling that the shaft of his penis was so hard, and yet the tip was
softer. When I rolled that in my fingertips he groaned again and his lower body
stiffened against me.

“If you want to
come first…” he breathed against the black shower tiles, “…I suggest you stop
that,” but he made no move to pull away, and I felt so giddy with the thrill of
what I was doing, I moved in closer, holding my cast up out of the spray while
I pressed my breasts against his back.

“I’ve never done
this before,” I said. “Please let me…” My languid stroking suddenly wasn’t
enough for me, so I gripped his penis harder and started pumping it slowly. He
groaned in earnest then, his fingers tightening on the tiles above his head. I
was so reckless with my own arousal, I said, “I want to taste you and—”

“Okay, stop!” His
hand closed over mine and he eased it away, then he turned to face me, his
chest rising and falling in a rhythm that matched his harsh breaths. “You know
the rules.”

I shook my head,
then looked down at his soapy penis and licked my lips. If I washed the soap
off, would he let me—

“Stop looking at
me like that,” he growled.

“But I’ve
never...” I licked my lips again, wanting to feel that hard flesh inside my
mouth, to see what it felt like, what it tasted like. “I want to—”

His mouth came
down over mine and he kissed me hard, as if he was trying to obliterate the
powerful sensations my touch had awoken. One of his hands held my cast up away
from the spray while the other pinned me to the shower wall and then roved over
my body, sliding wetly up over my breasts and into my hair to tilt my head so
he could dominate the kiss more thoroughly.

In seconds I was
overwhelmed by the hot, hungry taste of his mouth and the way his tongue
stroked mine, sending shivers of heat down through my body. Then he let my
scalp go and kept kissing me as he slid that hand down to caress my breasts
again, tweaking the nipples so they stung and made me moan.

I’d been aching
for that, so I pushed my chest into his hand, completely forgetting what I’d
wanted to do to him, I was so consumed with the mindless sensations racing and
pooling where I wanted him inside me.

“I do the
fucking,” he growled against my lips. “And I say who comes first.”

The breathless
audacity of his claim made me tingle to the roots of my hair, and I willingly
gave myself up to him, opening my legs when his hand slid down my belly so he
could delve into the damp curls and find my throbbing clitoris, sending a stab
of pure pleasure upwards through my body, so that even my breasts ached with it.
Then he started to stroke me and my legs trembled with the fierceness of
sensation that built in me like a tornado about to descend and wreak havoc.

“You. Come.
First,” he breathed against my forehead, and then I did, shuddering under his
hand while he kept stroking me and leant down to suckle hard on one nipple.

It made me cry out
and arch my back, but he held my cast hard, pinning me there as he sucked and
stroked until at last I said, “Stop.
Stop.
” And he did, letting go of my
hand and moving me carefully out of the stream of water.

I stood trembling
in the corner of the overlarge shower, astonished that my legs still held me
up. More than just tendrils had fallen out of my up-do, and they stuck to my
cheeks.

“Give me a second.”
He finished washing himself and then rinsed off the suds, before turning back
to me like a Greek God, golden and dripping, grinning that cheeky-bastard grin
of his. One of his eyebrows rose. “You have no idea how sexy you look all
fucked over.”

I shook my head. I
probably looked like a drowned rat. But he just nodded, as if to say,
I’m
right and you’re wrong
.

Then his grin widened.
“I swear,” he said, “The way you look at me brings out some primitive
Neanderthal impulses.”

“Because you’re
normally so meek and mild.”

His smile faded. “Right
in this moment I want to fuck you until I can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t
feel
anything else but you around me. Over me. Under me.”

I nodded. “Yes.”
All of that.

We stared at each
other a moment longer, then he said, “Bed.”