SURE, IT WAS late, and they’d survived a long day of partying, but Tori was nowhere near feeling tired. The day had simply been too exciting.
After the jubilation of her mom and Calder’s engagement and processing the fact that not only did her son now have a pony, but her mother was also a landowner, she and Draegyn let loose on the dance floor and served up a dozen or more enthusiastic toasts. They kept the party going well after the crowds left and it was just the core of Family Justice.
Carmen, being the sweetie of all times, took control of the boys, taking them both to Cameron’s house for an overnight. Assuring her and Lacey that she had no problem staying over so they could party their asses off, that was exactly what they’d done.
Partied. Their asses off.
It was a hot night, and eventually, the group took advantage of the Villa’s convenient cabana and fantastic pool. It was her, Draegyn, and Lacey along with Parker, Angelina, her mom, and Calder clowning around in the water and sprawled on the loungers as flaming torches and carefully concealed ambient lighting cast a glow on the gathering.
Ignoring the troubling continued absence of Cameron from the compound, everyone bent sideways to alleviate Lacey’s anxiety. That was just the way they were. When one of them was troubled or hurt, the rest of Family Justice closed ranks.
As far as she was concerned, the best way to end a fantastic day was all of them together. As usual, the thought reminded her how desperate she was for Meghan and Alex to come home.
“One last cannonball,” her husband hooted, “and then it’s time to call it a night.”
With a whopping holler, her sexy man in a pair of wet swim trunks plastered to his muscled body took off running at a fast clip, pulled his knees up, and jumped high into the air before crashing into the middle of the pool as a wide spray of water deluged everyone nearby.
She decided at that precise moment that tonight was the night. With Daniel safely tucked away at Lacey’s and with Carmen on baby duty, they were more than alone. Calder and her mother were ensconced in a Villa guest suite for the duration of Alex and Meghan’s honeymoon, so she and Draegyn were going to be completely alone. There would never be a more perfect time to let loose with some serious kinky fuckery.
Time for her husband to leave the troubling restraint he clung to at the damn door.
After a sober check on Parker before any of them told him where they’d hidden his car keys, they gathered in the driveway and said their good-byes. With Angie and her man bound for home and Calder and her mom just steps away from their accommodations, she and Draegyn bundled Lacey into a big Polaris and headed off down the road for home.
Stopping for a quick check-in with Carmen and some sleepy kisses with their son, they left Lacey to it and started the trek to their empty house. In her head, Tori made feverish plans.
As they burst through the front door—after all, they were alone so why be quiet—Draegyn announced he needed a shower.
“Sweated my balls off dancing and now pool chlorine,” he drawled with a fake shudder. “Wanna join me?”
Oh, shit. She hadn’t expected him to extend an invitation knowing how skittish he was. Long as condoms were handy, taking a shower with her husband always ended the same way, and while a vigorous fuck under a stream of water would be nice, she had something else on her mind.
“Uh, no. You go ahead, though,” she encouraged when he looked at her funny. Passing up an opportunity to share intimacy was unheard of between the two of them.
At his confused look, she blurted out the first thing that came to her mind. “Don’t wanna get my hair wet before bed.” Tori knew the excuse was lame, but it was all she had.
Looking and sounding a bit dejected, he murmured, “Okay then. Guess I’ll see you upstairs.” He started for the elevator in the middle of a first-floor hallway but turned back around halfway there to ask, “Where’s the dog?”
“Mike has her at the kennel keeping poor lonely Zeus company for the night. We can go get her in the morning.”
Draegyn didn’t say anything. He just nodded, looked her over, and went back to what he was doing. The second the elevator doors closed, she took off like a bat out of hell for the laundry room. She had work to do.
What a fucking day.
Pouring shampoo into his hand, Drae set the bottle down and started scrubbing his hair. As a mound of suds engulfed his head, he pondered Victoria’s odd demur of his shower invitation.
His wife was rarely reluctant. Though he kept a tight rein on their bedroom activities and never let himself get anywhere near to losing control, she was generally eager to make love with him at the drop of a feather.
Had his careful restraint ended up turning her off? Aw, fuck. He never considered what the side effects of his behavior might be.
Worried by the possibility he’d kept her at arm’s length for far too long, Drae was even more certain his plan to take the pressure off by taking his issues outside the marriage was the right thing to do.
Was it a drastic solution? Probably. But he had to shield her from the effects of his greedy desires. His wife was far too precious for him to leave things as they were.
Beneath the steaming waterfall, he dropped his chin and watched the suds wash away. As the soapy bubbles drifted down his chest, he swiped at his stomach like a windshield wiper to rinse them off. At that moment, he saw a graphic reminder of the ravenous hunger he felt for his wife.
Goddammit.
Turning under the spray, he lifted his face into the waterfall and tried to shake off his state of arousal. He was getting to be an expert at shutting down the covetous desire that always seemed to have him in its grip. Another fucking reason why it was time to settle things. And do it without Victoria knowing because he doubted she’d let him live should she ever find out.
Wasn’t water supposed to be soothing? A bunch of bullshit, if you asked him. He was going to require a lot more than a shower to make him feel better about planning to deceive his wife.
Drae was sure he’d lingered way too long when he realized he’d been steadily increasing the water’s temperature until the shower enclosure looked like a steam sauna. Jesus. Quickly ending the water-busting indulgence, he shook off like a wet dog, a quirky habit he’d picked up in the military, and scraped the water out of his hair.
Waiting for Alex to return before he made any moves was no longer a viable plan. Maybe what he should do was start the ball rolling. Get an arrangement in place before Dad was back in the saddle. Daniel was past the six-month mark. He’d restrained himself long enough.
Pushing the enclosure door open, he reached for a nearby towel and used it to vigorously mop up whatever water was left on his body. Wrapping it around his waist, he moved to the sink and stared into the mirror.
He was doing the right thing. He loved Victoria and truly felt he had to shield her from the effects of his insatiable needs.
Why, then, did he feel like a dick? Was it because these impulses he had reminded him of his cold-blooded father? Arthur St. John got the two children his wealth and status required from the body of his wife. Procreation and marriage. Birds of a feather. The deed done, he moved on.
In a way, wasn’t that what he was doing? Drae shuddered at the thought. His parents’ joyless, anemic marriage wasn’t at all what he wanted for him and Victoria. But he also didn’t want to use his wife’s body the same way his father had used Drae’s mother.
Was this what being fucked felt like? He was damned if he did and damned if he didn’t.
The sound of the window seat closing in the bedroom got his attention. She was stowing the fancy bed pillows that had absolutely no use whatsoever other than being decorative. Well, he thought with a sigh, at least that meant they were sleeping in the same bed tonight. After the way she rejected taking a shower with him, he wasn’t sure.
A minute later, he strolled into the bedroom and stopped dead in his tracks the second he saw her.
Oh, my fucking god. Was she trying to kill him? Looking like a Victoria’s Secret model, she was dressed for sex and making no apology for it judging by the swagger in her walk and the sound of her husky laugh.
The expression on Draegyn’s face when he saw her was one for the memory book. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him so, um—what word worked? Flabbergasted? Yeah. That one would do fine.
Fully intending to knock his socks off, she went for maximum heat and brought out the big guns. Namely, almost two thousand of her hard-earned American dollars’ worth of sexy La Perla lingerie. All in classic, mind-melting black.
A provocation that was sure to pique the interest of her hot-blooded husband. Sheer bra with lace accents. Same for the panties. A black lace garter belt with satin ribbon suspenders holding up a decadent pair of black silk stockings she found sinfully delicious. Oh, and on her feet? With a mama who done taught her well, Tori opted for a pair of platform stilettos. Or hooker heels as they were sometimes called.
A two-minute blowout left her hair in soft curls draped over her shoulders. Draegyn enjoyed her hair. And she enjoyed his enjoyment. Especially when he pulled it all into a long tail that he used as a leash. Yeah, that’s right, she mentally snickered. I like a bit of hair pulling. Did the admission tarnish her feminist credentials? Eh. So sue me.
Another thing her beauty queen mother taught her well was how to do her makeup in record-setting time. The dark red lipstick was her favorite, and it was going to look hot as fuck when she left the imprint of her lips on his chest and stomach.
Not only had her husband’s socks been knocked off, but the sexy jut of his cock pressing the front of the towel as she paraded around the room also told Tori she’d scored a direct hit.
“Well, what do we have here?” he asked.
Borrowing on every love scene in every movie she’d ever seen, Tori giggle-smirked and leaned her hands on the mattress of their bed—giving it a little test—then turned like a runway model, grabbed hold above her head to one of the tall four posters and did a maneuver worthy of a stripper’s pole. Thanks, Lacey.
Draegyn’s jaw almost made it to the floor. She’d shocked him. And the burning desire she found in his eyes told her he was shocked in a good way.
“What we have here, darlin’, is a horny wife, thousands of dollars of black silk and lace, you in a towel, and this great big bed as a playground.”
To her astonishment, he actually gulped.
“Victoria.”
She heard the subtle warning and brushed right past it. Nope, not tonight. She was on a one-woman mission. Screw all the polite restraint and politically correct marital lovemaking.
Tonight was about pushing buttons. She wanted it nasty. Dirty. Wild. Crude. She wanted Draegyn St. John to unleash his sexual prowess on her and leave nothing on the table.
Performing like an experienced courtesan, she rocked and rolled her hips as she came at him. Moving around her husband’s body in a slow circle, her fingers traced lines across his collarbone and back of his neck.
“Sit down,” she demanded with a slight push on his shoulder.
He dropped like a stone into an easy chair.
So far, so good.
Producing a chilled bottle of their go-to Moscato, she handed off two glasses for him to hold as she stood at his knees and bent forward to pour the wine and put her post-baby boobs on full display.
Before he could voice an objection or deflect her efforts, Tori was perched on his towel covered lap, one hand clutching the wine glass and the other curled around the nape of his neck, her fingers moving in his hair.
“Shall we toast to Mom and Calder,” she asked silkily.
Draegyn’s eyes narrowed. It was like he just that minute realized what she was up to.
“Woman, are you trying to get me drunk?”
Relieved, she chuckled softly. He wasn’t mad, but he was still wrapped way too tight with caution.
“Actually, no,” she answered before leaning in to lick the shell of his ear. Pulling away, Tori made sure to breathe heavily. “I just thought this would be a nice follow-up to all the champagne earlier.”
He eyed her suspiciously but didn’t offer any comeback. She wasn’t completely ignorant. Draegyn didn’t know it, but he had a tendency to let his guard down when faced with sound reasoning. By answering what was essentially a taunt with a reasonable response, she’d cut off the route his mind was taking.
Good. That was exactly what she hoped would happen.
Holding her glass up, she said, “To engagements. And love. And finding that happily ever after.”
They clinked the crystal, and as the dulcet tone faded in the air, they sipped in silence. Before long, she felt the tension in his body melt away.
His glass drained, he took hers after a final sip and set them aside. “I like this,” he told her in a husky drawl.
She had his full attention now.
Sitting up, she covered her boobs with both hands, gave them a bit of a jostle, and as innocently as possible, asked, “Which part? The bra? The panties? The garter belt? The stockings or the shoes?”
Giving him a bullet list of her arsenal was a smart move for a man like hers. He had an analytical mind. Relying on his strengths and taking advantage of his weaknesses was all she needed as a plan. She was that sure the rest would fall into place.
Draegyn chuckled. The sound was low, deep, and edged with a growl. “Add your hot-as-fuck body and beautiful face to the list and you can check off all of the above.”
Crossing her legs, she rested both hands on her knees, straightened her spine, and beamed at him.
“Daddy like?”
Tracing a finger back and forth on the mounds of her boobs plumped above the bra, he licked his lips suggestively and grunted, “Daddy like very much.”
All she needed was a bowl of milk, and she’d be wiping a paw against her whiskers and purring with delighted triumph. Things were going according to plan until he grabbed her waist and shook her. “Is that what this is, wife? Daddy and his baby girl? Or are you the naughty kitten tonight?”
Tilting her head, she looked at him from lowered eyes and tried not to giggle at how quickly he’d stolen her thunder and taken control.
Shrugging, she told him with a wink, “Baby girl. Kitten. Mistress. Slave. It’s all good.”
And just like that, he was up, out of the chair, her in his arms as he stomped toward the bed.
“All right then,” he growled. Biting her neck, he gripped her tightly and then held her eyes with his. “Let’s see what you’ve got, Mrs. St. John. The first call is yours. We’ll see about the rest.”
She almost laughed. Did he really imagine that was how this was going to go? She’d let him have his alpha fantasy for now.
“Ladies’ choice. Thrown on the bed or lowered to your feet?”
“Feet,” she answered quickly. “These shoes were made for performing!”
He laughed and kissed her. Hard. Then let her slowly drift down his half-naked body till she was standing and plastered to his front.
A smoky tinge fogged her husband’s normally ice blue gaze. Smoke and ice. She was never going to have a better opportunity because, at that precise moment, he wasn’t thinking about being a gentleman. In fact, gentle was a word missing from the libertine musings running around in his mind.
Thank god. Relieved and emboldened by his response, Tori rubbed her hands over his muscled chest and gave an appreciative purr. Tracing the tribal tattoo he and Cam had that wrapped around a bicep, she stroked it lightly until goose bumps spread across his skin.
“My warrior.” Reverence and awe rang in her voice. His bold masculinity incited a flash flood of desire inside her.
Draegyn’s sexy grunt acknowledged the honor she granted him. It was such a lovely moment—so simple and truthful—that she let it fill them up in the following silence.