Chapter 8
Who Cares What the Society Pages Say
James
You’d have thought I’d gotten arrested, not married.
Page Six was declaring one of the city’s most eligible bachelors had been taken off the market.
Seriously, didn’t they have anything newsworthy to report? I flipped the page, and then I wanted to stab it with my knife.
Right there in black white was a reprint of the Victoria’s Secret Christmas cover from last year, featuring none other than my wife in some sexy lingerie.
Christ, I hadn’t even seen her in anything like that, yet.
If it made me want to get up from my desk and go in the bathroom to jerk off right now, I knew others were actually fisting their way to orgasm as I was staring at her photo.
And if that didn’t make me want to kill everyone of them.
I wanted her to quit her job. I wanted her to stay home, barefoot and pregnant in my kitchen. Be domestic. Greet me at the door after work with a drink and a kiss, perhaps naked once in awhile. I was such a caveman.
“James?” Lindsay prompted, taking the paper from my hands.
I stood and took her in. Tall, in her heeled booties, she stood at equal height with me. Her red hair was long and hung in loose waves down past her shoulders. And her legs looked a mile long. She wore a short, tight red dress with black fishnet stockings. And I had to bite my fist to control my urge to fuck her.
It had been five days since the gauntlet on the no sex dropped. I’d spent a lot of time running myself to exhaustion both before and after work, and taking cold showers. Before I married her, it wasn’t like I was getting some every night, but I also didn’t have the tease of a hot, sexy body wandering around my place making me hard all the time either.
The days were easier because I was at work, where I actually got what I wanted. Lindsay wasn’t working that week, so she spent her days roaming the Upper East Side and going back and forth between her place and mine. She refused to let me hire movers. She thought we should wait. Trying to prove myself husband material, I didn’t pressure her. However, each day I noticed something else of hers had made its way to Fifth Avenue. Slowly, her walls were lowering, and I was climbing up them.
Being a dutiful husband, I made sure to come home early. In those evening hours, I decided to not dwell on the fact that I couldn’t be inside her. Instead, I set about wooing her. I brought her flowers and chocolates, for that I earned a pass to second base. I palmed her breasts and then put my mouth to one nipple, sucking strongly. When I switched sides, she moaned so loud, I knew I could make her come in just that way. But I stopped. If I couldn’t come, I figured it was only fair she didn’t.
I also took my wife to dinner, and then on long walks through the park where we talked about ourselves.
Two nights ago I told her all about my friends. The trouble I’d gotten into in college with drugs. And about Emmy. How she had issues, and I felt responsible for her. And how it had taken me a very long time to realize I wasn’t.
Last night when we walked, I explained more of my fucked up family dynamics to her. Told her why my mother was the way she was. It wasn’t an excuse. I just understood her. It was because of my father. I told her that I despised the man for his weakness. That I had a love/hate relationship with my mother because of it. It was twisted, but it was who we were. At bedtime, she slipped under the covers in just her underwear. And after a hot and heavy make out session, she moved my hand to her panties, where I slowly teased the edges of them. I stopped there. And fuck it was so hard. I really wanted to see if she was wet for me. I really wanted to make her come, but I didn’t because what I wanted more was her so hot for it, she might explode if she didn’t get it.
It was all about control.
“James,” she said again.
I leaned across my desk, touching my lips to hers. “Yeah, baby.”
“What are you thinking about?”
I laughed then. “You don’t want to know.”
“Sure I do.”
I opened the paper. “Look what was printed today.”
She leaned forward, her arms planted on the desk to take a look. God, the things I wanted to do to her in that position. “Oh, why would they print that?”
“To show the world your gorgeous tits,” I griped.
Something flickered in her eyes, and I was pretty sure it was amusement. “I’m wearing a bra, James, I’m not topless.”
It was enough to drive me crazy. “A pushup bra,” I corrected. “And I bet with cleavage like that, every Tom, Dick, and Harry will be imagining thrusting their dicks in it.”
I knew I was.
Lindsay laughed at that. “I’m pretty sure you’re letting your imagination run wild.”
I glared at her, and then I told her how much I disliked every man in the world seeing her fuck-hot body. Seeing what was mine. I told her I wanted her to stay home, barefoot in the kitchen. I left the pregnant part out. I didn’t want to terrify her. I even shared my fantasy of greeting me at the door naked part.
“That shouldn’t be a problem,” she said, straight faced.
My brows practically hit my forehead. “Really?”
I was getting excited.
She laughed again. “Really, as soon as you build a time machine to transport us back to the fifties.”
“Funny,” I gritted through my teeth.
“James,” she scolded. “Be serious.”
“I am.”
“Well, you’re acting jealous for no reason. It’s almost ridiculous.”
I leaned over the desk to kiss her. “You asked,” I muttered.
Seriousness set in when she looked into my eyes. “You understand that it’s my job.”
I shrugged. “I do, but that doesn’t change how I feel. And, since I’m putting it all out there, I don’t love that you’ll be traveling a lot.”
Her expression grew ever more serious. “It’s not a lot. Most of the time I shoot right here in New York, and even then my schedule isn’t packed. But maybe you could come when I have to travel, and we could make it a mini vacation.”
I stifled the smile that twitched the corner of my mouth. “Yeah, maybe. Just let me know far enough in advance, and I’ll see what I can do.”
She circled the desk and put her arms around my neck. “Good, now that that is settled, is there anything else I should know about your friends before we go to dinner with them?”
Before I answered, I kissed her, hugging her tightly to my chest, then I pulled away and placed my hands on her hips. “I think I told you everything. Just remember, Phoebe and Jeremy’s relationship is new, and I have no idea how serious they are.”
It was Friday night, and I’d arranged for Lindsay to meet Phoebe, and the new guy in her life, Jeremy McQueen. This introduction I knew would go much smoother than the one last Sunday, and I also knew it was important because even though Lindsay and I were doing great, she was still worried about being a part of what she called my world.
Jeremy lived in a loft in Lindsay’s neck of the woods. And I think that helped ease her nerves even more.
Although I wanted to keep my hands on her, I forced myself to take her hand. “You look beautiful,” I said.
She looked at me brightly. “Thank you.”
I kissed her one more time, and then said, “Let’s go.”
Lindsay was mostly quiet on the ride to SoHo. I waited until we got out of the car to ask, “Is something wrong?”
She shook her head and feigned a smile.
I rang the bell. “Don’t be nervous. Relax, baby. They’re going to love you.”
She squeezed into my side.
Somehow I felt my chest swell. She felt safe with me, and I relished in the feeling.
“I’m not nervous,” she said.
“Good,” I kissed her head.
When the door opened, it wasn’t Phoebe or Jeremy. It was Max, one of the chefs from Catch. “Hey,” he said, “Come in. Jeremy and Phoebe are running late, but they should be here shortly.”
I introduced Max to Lindsay, and he brought us to the kitchen. There we got a drink and watched Max make sushi rolls at the same rate we each consumed them.
Lindsay was wiping a drop of soy sauce from my mouth when I heard the door open.
“Jamie,” Phoebe squealed, soon after.
“Phoebs.” I smiled and hopped off the bar stool to meet her in the middle of the kitchen. I hugged her and whispered, “I think you’re going to love her.”
To my surprise, she pulled back to look at me, and then said, “I think you already do.”
Stunned, it took me a few moments to refocus. She was smiling at me. I turned my head, wondering where that came from, and saw Jeremy. “Jeremy,” I said, letting go of my hold on Phoebe and grasping Jeremy’s hand.
“Good to see you, James. How’s the head?”
“Harder than ever,” I joked.
We all laughed. I’d told Lindsay all about the bar fight that resulted me having to get my head shaved, and stitches.
“Lindsay,” I called, outreaching my arm.
She hoped off the stool like the supermodel she was, and walked over to us.
I put my arm around her. “Baby, this is my best friend, Phoebe St. Claire and her—” I paused.
“Boyfriend,” Jeremy quickly added. “Nice to meet you. I’m Jeremy McQueen.”
Well, there you go.
“Hi, Lindsay,” Phoebe said, giving her a quick hug.
“Max,” Jeremy greeted the chef as he walked toward him and shook his hand. They spoke quietly for a few moments.
“Baby, Phoebs and I have known each other since ninth grade,” I said.
Lindsay clasped her hands together. “Oh, then she should have some really good dirt to share with me.”
My hand went to her behind and I tapped it.
Lindsay jumped in surprise.
I leaned in close to her and whispered, “You already know everything naughty about me that you need to know.”
But my whisper wasn’t soft enough because Phoebe rolled her eyes.
“What?” I said, raising both brows.
She wrinkled her nose and gave me a slight shove. “There are some things I’d rather not know.”
The three of us laughed at that, but I noticed Phoebe was staring at me. I gave her a look. She mouthed the word, baby.
I shrugged.
“Congratulations are in order,” I heard Jeremy say, and then I heard the pop of a champagne cork.
Phoebe was still staring, but then she hurried over to the table in the living room and grabbed a wrapped box. She rejoined us just as Jeremy was filling the flutes with champagne.
Excited, she handed the gift to Lindsay. “Just a little something for the two of you.”
Lindsay beamed with enthusiasm. “James, it’s our first wedding gift.”
I beamed as well and then kissed her on the cheek. “Go ahead, open it.”
“Yes, open it,” Phoebe assured her.
Lindsay carried it to the island where the plates of sushi had multiplied and looked to me again. With a slight huff of laughter, I nodded toward her in reassurance. She was worried about breaking etiquette. Although she wasn’t an Upper East Sider, she must have known that the older generation of East Side women believed gifts were not meant to be opened in the presence of those who gave them. God forbid you hated it and had to pretend you liked it. I couldn’t care less about that.
Lindsay tore the package open with excitement and right then I knew she really did want this to work as much as I did.
She wasn’t like anyone I had ever dated. She was warm, kind, and genuine. And she was good for me. I knew this. And I also knew that was dangerous.
“I like her,” Phoebe whispered to me.
My smile was wide. “I knew you would.”
“You’re different with this woman at your side.”
I made a face. “How so?”
“I don’t know, softer. You’re gazing at your new bride adoringly. I’ve never, ever, seen you act like this, nor have I ever heard you call a woman baby.”
I leaned in. “Calling a dude soft isn’t exactly what they want to hear.”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t screw this up, Jamie, I mean it.”
I wanted to roll my eyes back, but instead I just stared. She had a very valid point.
“Come on, let’s join her,” Phoebe said and tugged me that way.
When we reached the island, Jeremy had just set the glasses on it and Phoebe went to stand beside him.
I focused on my girl, while Phoebe kissed Jeremy.
“Oh my God,” Lindsay cried as she held a pewter bowl in her hands and then clutched it to her chest.
I have to say, it felt so good to see her happy, and I knew then we were going to be just fine. But then she started sobbing. “What is it, baby?”
“Read this,” she said, as she showed me the inside script on the bowl. It read, “May your future be bright.”
“Hey,” I soothed her. “It’s only a salad bowl.”
Still, she cried.
I took her in my arms and pressed her to my chest, and then I glanced at Phoebe and mouthed, “Thank you.”
When I pulled away, Lindsay looked at Phoebe. “Thank you so much for accepting me. It means so much.”
“Is everything okay?” Phoebe asked her.
I sighed. “It was a rough weekend.”
“His mother refuses to accept our marriage,” Lindsay blurted out.
“She will,” I said softly. “Just give her time.”
“And your friend too, she wants to break us up.”
“Emmy,” I whispered and I knew that said it all.
Phoebe took the glasses Jeremy had set down and handed them out. “It’s time for a toast.”
Lindsay inhaled deeply and brushed away her tears and I gave Phoebe a slight smile.
“To beginnings,” she raised a glass. “They aren’t always smooth but what matters is that the future remains bright.”
“Cheers,” Jeremy said looking at Phoebe.
“Cheers,” I repeated.
“Cheers,” Lindsay said as she clinked each of our glasses.
Max raised his own glass. “Cheers, and it is time to eat.”
We all laughed and moved toward the table, which was already set.
“So how’s work?” I asked Phoebe.
“Still walking the line, but I hope not for much longer.”
I nodded. “The club renovation is still a go?” I asked, knowing she was hoping opening up a nightclub in the hotel would attract more of a crowd.
“It is,” she said. “In fact, Jeremy got me everything I needed to make initial projections and I sent out the requests for investment earlier tonight.”
I looked over at Jeremy and gave him a nod. “That’s great.”
She then told Lindsay and I about the ultra-modern fixtures and lighting, and the design of the bar. She went on and on and, by the time we finished dinner, not only did we have a vivid picture of what the club would look like, we were all a bit buzzed. Max had left long ago, leaving dessert in the refrigerator.
I cleared my throat and grabbed Lindsay’s hand. “So, I was thinking,” I said, knowing I was throwing myself out on a limb. “As long as everything continues to go as well as it has been and you open the club on New Year’s Eve, I’d like to have our wedding celebration there that night.”
Lindsay went still by my side.
Phoebe’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?”
“Fuck yeah, it would be a great way to bring in the New Year,” I said.
Phoebe clasped her hands together. “That couldn’t be more perfect.”
“Next Friday night, dinner and a preliminary discussion,” I suggested.
She glanced toward Jeremy.
“Sounds like a plan,” he said.
“Oh wait. I can’t Friday. Wednesday?” I asked, remembering I had another fundraiser to attend. One I had yet to tell Lindsay about.
Jeremy nodded and so did Phoebe.
“Does that mean we should wait to make a public appearance together until the New Year?” Lindsay asked, looking hopeful.
I shook my head. “No, we have a season of events to attend. It’s perfect. That way you’ll get to meet everyone before the celebration.” It was a great lead in.
Lindsay didn’t look happy.
I squeezed her hand and then looked at Jeremy and Phoebe. “Are the two of you attending the White and Black Ball tomorrow night? It’s stressing Lindsay out for some reason.”
The annual makeshift casino fund-raiser was Avery Lake’s crowning achievement, and she basked in the attention she received for her philanthropic ways. Much to her credit, she did raise millions every year for the families of the victims of 9/11. She had a very personal connection—she had lost her father in the collapse of the World Trade Center towers. Her stretch continued to be far-reaching, providing college funds to those who needed it, senior care to those who didn’t have the proper insurance any longer, and trusts had been set up for the children of firefighters and police officers who lost their lives that day. Her support was appreciated beyond measure and everyone joined forces to make the night an annual success.
It was the event of the year and I had no choice but to attend. I’d taken Lindsay shopping during lunch earlier in the week, and bought her a dress, under a lot of reluctance on her part.
Phoebe looked at Jeremy, who remained neutral. “Yes, we’ll be there,” Phoebe said.
Lindsay looked extremely relieved.
I wondered if knowing about Avery and I was part of her reluctance. I’d come clean and told her that long ago, I had been Avery’s target and she only gave up hope of landing me after many years and many unsuccessful attempts. I even told her how Emmy and her had joined forces for a bit in order to coerce me away from other women.
“Phoebe?” Jeremy said.
Jeremy had stood and was talking to her, but her mind seemed to have gone where mine had. “Hmmm?” she answered.
“What do you say we make some coffee and see what Max left for dessert?”
She stood then, too.
Thinking about Avery had rattled me and I had to shake my thoughts away. Tomorrow night would be fine.
“Here, I can help,” Lindsay offered.
“No, no. You two go sit down over there.” She motioned to the large living area. “We’ll bring everything in there.”
“Great, there’s a game on; I can catch the score,” I said.
Phoebe shook her head at him. “Did you bet on it?”
I gave her a coy look. Of course I did, but I hadn’t told Lindsay about my penchant for gambling. All in due time, I thought.
I turned the TV on and focused my attention on Lindsay. She had a million questions. And I although I didn’t love talking about my past, I answered each one of them.
Then she cleared her throat and said, “So the wedding celebration, aren’t you worried that you’re putting the cart before the horse?”
I laced my fingers with hers and looked into her eyes. “Not at all. The only thing I’m worried about is that you might decide we have to wait until then before I can get inside you.”
She blushed, and I loved the color in her cheeks.
I raised a brow waiting for a response.
Before she said anything, she looked over her shoulder. When she saw we were still alone, she said, “You don’t have to worry about that. It will be much sooner.”
Of course, I already knew that.
But as Phoebe had reminded me, I just hoped I didn’t fuck everything up before then.
I had a history of doing that.
Chapter 9
Perks
Lindsay
Being a model had its perks.
You got to travel between New York, Milan, London, Paris, and sometimes to remote island locations.
There’s flexibility in your schedule as you work unconventionally long hours when you are on location, but have even longer periods of time off in-between shoots.
A lot of the time you got to keep the clothes you modeled. And they were always fashion forward.
And then there were the invaluable connections you made while meeting new people all the time.
But it wasn’t all glitz and glam all the time. In truth, there was a lot of hard work that went into becoming a successful model, and behind the scenes, it wasn’t always as glamorous as it might seem. Sometimes you got yelled at. Sometimes you got turned away because you were too tall, or too short, or had the wrong hair color.
I was used to dealing with a lot of different personalities.
What I wasn’t used to was feeling like I might be deemed unworthy. That was a feeling I hadn’t experienced in a very long time, until last Sunday, when James’ mother brought it all back.
Tonight though, I felt at ease, like this thing with James and I wasn’t going to be as hard as I had thought.
Phoebe was James’ best friend, and she had welcomed me with open arms. This made me feel lighter, less worried that James and I had made a mistake.
In the bathroom mirror, I brushed my hair and smiled when James walked in wearing nothing but a towel, fresh out of the shower, my eyes widened.
Casually, he gave my bottom a slight pat as he passed. A slight tingling sensation lingered under his touch. I’d stripped out of my dress and hose, and was wearing nothing more than a skimpy tank top and panties.
I loved that he liked to touch me often, and that he always made sure he was as close to me as he could be.
He bent to brush his teeth in the sink beside me.
Unable to stop myself, I glanced toward him, and saw little droplets of water coursing down his rock-hard abs.
His gaze swiveled toward me. I continued to brush my hair. Feeling the heat of his stare every time his eyes shifted my way.
When he finished, he stood tall and leaned against the wall. “Are you tired?” he asked.
I put some toothpaste on my own toothbrush. “No really. What did you have in mind?”
“We could watch a movie,” he suggested.
I bent to brush my teeth and a yearning shot through me. He was completely naked beneath his towel and I was having a hard time ignoring that fact. “Yes, sure, I’m up for anything you want.” My voice was husky from my wicked thoughts.
He caught my tone, and his eyes dipped to my mouth.
I shifted my gaze to the sink and kept brushing.
I saw movement and then he was behind me, bending over me. “What I want is to watch you make yourself come.”
I shivered at his hot breath on my ear.
We’d left Phoebe and Jeremy’s shortly after we finished dessert. James had Hal drop off us a few blocks from home so we could enjoy the night air. We strode arm in arm down the sidewalk, and I felt like we were doing this. That we were Mr. and Mrs. Ashton. It was the first time I’d felt that way since we returned from Vegas.
I spit out my toothpaste and looked up at him in the mirror. Then I turned to look at him over my shoulder. “What?” My throat was dry despite the fact I was rinsing my mouth.
His lips were on mine in a long kiss before he broke the suction of our mouths and buried his face in my neck. “You said you were up for anything. What I want is to watch you make yourself come,” he groaned into my throat.
I had heard him, and I stared at his reflection in the mirror. His handsome face was so serious and I watched him as he studied me without an ounce of amusement dancing in his eyes this time.
The intensity of the moment caused goose bumps to rise on my skin.
He was serious.
Dead serious.
He dropped his head to the curve of my shoulder and with his teeth, bit me gently. “It’s not breaking your rule. I won’t be inside you.”
God, I almost wished I hadn’t nixed the whole sex thing, but it was killing me having him so close to me. “I know,” I said, “It’s not that. It’s just I’ve never done that in front of someone before.”
He lifted his mouth and looked at me in the mirror. “I’ll guide you. Tell you what to do so I can enjoy it as much as you.”
My blood felt like gasoline as it flowed through my veins.
Hot.
Explosive.
Ready to catch fire.
With his eyes still on me, I swallowed and gave a slight nod.
“Take your shirt off. Show me your gorgeous tits,” James commanded.
Slowly, I lifted my tank top.
“Now your panties,” he ordered.
I shimmied them down my legs and kicked them off.
James moved closer. His eyes were burning with desire when he pressed his body to mine, and I could feel him starting to get hard beneath his towel. I wanted to ask him to drop the terry cloth. I wanted to tell him I needed to watch him lengthen.
But then he took my hands, which were gripping the counter. He lifted them to my chest and a nervous flutter swept through me, and I didn’t ask him anything. I had twenty fingertips touching me as he slid our hands over the small swell of my breasts and my nerves dispersed into full-on desire as the eroticism of it all took over.
“Do you feel how hard your nipples get with the slightest touch?” he whispered in my ear.
I nodded while he slid our hands lower to my navel and flattened my palms against it beneath his. Four hands covered my lower body and desire pulsed in my core.
“Open your legs wider,” he growled.
God, the commanding tone to his voice made my heart beat frantically.
Once I did as he instructed, he moved one of my hands between my legs and put the other back on my breast. He concentrated below as he manipulated my finger so that I was gently stroking myself in a circular motion.
Stroke.
Circle.
Stroke.
Heat spread through me.
I could hear his deep breaths.
I shuddered in ecstasy when I looked down and watched as his hand moved mine.
“Pinch your nipples.” His voice was hoarse as he bent to kiss my neck. It was more like a lick from my ear to my shoulder.
I pinched.
My pulse was racing.
James released the hand holding my breast and left me to that task but his hand down below kept up the slow torturous movement.
Stroke.
Circle.
Stroke.
Each stroke across my bare flesh was better than the last.
God, I wanted him.
Stroke.
Circle.
Stroke.
His mouth covered my ear. “That’s it baby, you got this.”
Slowly, he stopped his circling and even slower, he moved back away from me.
The sensation I was experiencing wasn’t something I’d felt before. Maybe it was because I was standing naked in front of a mirror doing what James had asked me to do, or maybe it was simply the stimulation all over my body. Whatever it was, I didn’t want it to stop.
“Don’t stop. Keep doing what you’re doing and I want you to look in the mirror. See how beautiful you are. See what I see,” he said.
My lids flicked up. My body was visible until about mid thigh. Hot, white lust exploded within me. I circled my nipple and then pinched it. Circled it again, and then pinched it.
“That’s it. Don’t stop. How does it feel?” he asked.
I let my head fall back. “Incredible.”
James moved swiftly toward me, and he captured my mouth with a hungry kiss before releasing me and resuming his stare in the mirror. “Fucking hell,” he groaned as he watched me.
My whole body hummed in delight.
“Now I want you to rub even smaller, gentler circles around your clit. You’re already so wet it shouldn’t be difficult. But not a lot pressure. Not yet.”
My entire body was tingling now, not just my core either, but rather from my head to my toes.
He let his towel drop, and his cock jutted straight out. He moved his hand down and started stroking himself.
The tingles I was feeling turned into tremors. “James,” I screamed. “I want to come.”
“Not yet,” he breathed. His own voice was ragged. “Not yet, just hold on a little longer.”
My eyes met his half-lidded ones in the mirror.
He was stroking himself now fast and hard. “When I tell you,” he said, “add some pressure to your clit. When you start coming, I want you to bend over and grip the counter. I’m going to come all over your back.”
I was so turned on. “Oh God,” I cried out. “It feels so good.”
My words must have undone him because a barely audible, “Now,” escaped his throat.
James cast his eyes on me in the mirror. Under his gaze, I added that little bit of extra pressure and my orgasm consumed my entire body. I was riding the intense waves of delicious pleasure when I felt the heat of his body. My orgasm started to wane but then out of nowhere started to rise again. I was climbing higher than I ever had.
He called my name as he came, whispering something I couldn’t hear.
I closed my eyes. “James,” I cried out again. Beneath my lids, I saw stars, the moon, and lightning. With my eyes closed, I felt the earth move and the sky shift. In my own darkness, I felt a million different things but I didn’t feel lost in him. I knew then I couldn’t lose him.
That, like him, I too would do what it took to make this work.
Chapter 10
Holy Batman
James
Gotham Hall always reminded me of a Batman movie.
And as the four of us passed through the filigree brass doors and stepped onto the inlaid marble floor, it didn’t disappoint. I also couldn’t help but think the place looked like a casino that had been plucked right out of one of the finest hotels in Las Vegas and dropped into Gotham Hall with a little bit of intrigue that could have come from the bat cave with its dark spotlights.
Unfortunately, Cat Woman wasn’t that far away.
Yeah, I was still pissed as hell at Avery for calling Emmy to tell her I’d gotten married before I had a chance to tell my family myself.
All of us waited in line to greet the hosts of the White and Black Ball. I always hated this part of fundraisers, being forced to talk to people you might otherwise avoid. And I would most certainly have avoided Avery tonight.
“Jeremy,” Avery greeted as she threw her arms around him and kissed him.
I rolled my eyes.
It was going to be a long night.
The line progressed and I gave Lindsay’s hand a squeeze, and then leaned down to whisper in her ear, “You look good enough to eat tonight.”
She licked her lips. “Play your cards right, Batman, and when we get home you might be able to do just that.”
Hell, my body went live wire. Zing. Could we leave now? I was so close to getting inside her.
“Phoebe,” Avery said in turn. “Gorgeous dress. I haven’t seen that at any of the runway shows this season.”
This whole who wore what better thing was nothing as a guy I had ever been a part of, but things had changed. I had a wife to look out for, and I’d made certain she wouldn’t be snubbed.
Phoebe looked over at me and rolled her eyes.
Before I could respond, Avery said, “James, how’s married life?”
“Fantastic,” I responded, deciding not saying a word about what she had blabbed to Emmy was the best way to play it.
“Mitzi,” she then exclaimed. “You look lovely. Is that VS?”
“It’s Lindsay,” I corrected. And really, Avery knew her name as well as she knew she wasn’t wearing something from the Victoria’s Secret catalog.
“It’s Cavalli,” Lindsay’s meek voice responded.
“Of course, I saw it on the rack at Bergdorf’s. I completely forgot.”
Then it was my turn to roll my eyes. Lindsay’s dress might have been off the rack, but it was spectacular and couldn’t be worn by anyone that wasn’t at least five-foot-ten. It was a long, black halter dress with a plunging neckline and a foil print of a peacock spread across the entire skirt. She looked amazing. Edible. And she was all mine.
I looked ahead and when I saw Emmy was standing beside Theo, I tossed etiquette aside and stepped out of line. I didn’t give a shit about manners at that point. There was no way I wanted to upset Lindsay any further.
Jeremy was talking to Theo when I whispered in Phoebe’s ear. “Meet us in the bar. I’ve had enough of the greetings.”
“Be there shortly,” she said and gave Lindsay’s hand a squeeze.
That made Lindsay smile. And damn if I didn’t love it when she did.
I laced my fingers in Lindsay’s and led her to the bar. With a drink in each of our hands, I looked her over. She looked slightly stressed. “Did Avery upset you?” I asked.
She lifted a shoulder in a careless shrug. She was so beautiful. And there was more. She had a sweetness to her that inspired a physical ache every time I looked at her.
Last night I knew I could have fucked her, but I had decided to wait. Not because I got a warped sense of satisfaction that I knew I had broken her down, but because I realized she was right. If we were having sex, we never would have spent the week getting to know each other, but instead we would have spent it fucking. It was better that way.
Who would have thought such a thing?
After sipping on my drink, I glanced around and gave Lindsay the rundown on who was who. Soon, I was introducing her, and marveled at the way she lit up the room.
When I spotted Jeremy, I tapped him on the shoulder. “High stakes tables are downstairs. What do you say?”
“Let’s do it.”
We took the elevator down to the ground level. The venue had once been a bank and the vault was the perfect backdrop for the high stakes games.
It was a small room but there was a table with two empty seats. I was itching to sit there, but I looked at my wife and asked, “Do you want to play?”
She looked at the giant stack of hundred dollar bills I was about to cash in for chips. “No, go ahead.”
I kissed her forehead. “If you change your mind, let me know.”
“Drinks?” a cocktail waitress asked.
“A scotch, neat,” I said, and started to line my chips up in front of me.
The waitress looked toward Jeremy who was cashing in an equally large stack of hundred dollar bills. “I’ll have the same. And a Pinot Grigio for the lady,” he nodded toward Phoebe. “And Lindsay, what would you like?”
I instantly turned, knowing I had fucked up. “Sorry baby, I was preoccupied.” I looked at the waitress. “She’ll have a Merlot.”
Lindsay and Phoebe exchanged glances and started giggling. And I was glad I hadn’t fucked up too bad.
I rubbed my hands together. “Let’s do this.”
Frank Sinatra played from the speakers above us as initial bets were placed on the table and the poker game began.
The dealer’s hands were flying around the table as she pushed chips and flipped cards. By the time our second round of drinks arrived, I was lost in the poker game.
The player next to Jeremy stood up. “I’m out.”
He’d lost all his money and Jeremy’s stack was dwindling. Mine, on the other hand, looked about the same.
Lindsay was intently watching my every move, and I liked having her close.
A few minutes passed and then Phoebe looked toward her. “Shall we go back upstairs and walk around? They have blackjack up there.”
“Do you mind?” she asked me.
I turned my head slightly. “Mind what, baby?”
“If I go upstairs with Phoebe,” she smiled.
I handed her some chips. “Not at all. Here, go have fun.”
She looked reluctant. “Take it,” I said. “Please.”
And she did.
“I’m going upstairs,” Phoebe told Jeremy.
The hand had just ended and he turned around. “You okay?” he asked her.
They were in deep conversation when the next hand was dealt. “You in?” I barked.
“I’ll sit this one out,” Jeremy said, and started in with conversation again.
“Come on man, get your head back in the game,” I barked.
Finally, he turned around.
“We won’t be long.” Lindsay kissed me.
“Meet at the bar,” I told her as I kissed her back.
“Is everyone having fun?” Avery took a seat next to Jeremy before the girls had even walked away.
“Do you want to stay?” I heard Lindsay ask Phoebe.
But I never heard an answer, they were both gone before I turned back.
Avery saddled over next to me when she struck out with Jeremy. “Hey, are you having fun?”
Not up for her games, I tossed a handful of chips on the table and scooped up the rest. “Yes,” I said, and then added, “Excuse me, I have to go find my wife.”
“James,” she called.
I turned back.
“You don’t have to be rude.”
I laughed. “That, darling, was anything but rude. The next time you’re rude to my wife, I can guarantee I won’t be that nice.”
Jeremy stood up too. “How about a drink?” he asked.
At the bar, we talked about business and life. I looked around for Lindsay, but I didn’t see her anywhere. Jeremy took off to use the restroom, and then alone, I wondered if it was too early for me to take Lindsay home.
“Hey man, I heard congratulations are in order.” I turned to see my cousin, Noah Tate.
I slapped him on the back. “Hey, yeah, I got hitched.”
“I heard,” he said.
I raised a brow. “News travels fast.”
“Actually, I ran into your old man, and he told me.”
“My old man? Where? When?” That explained the fact that my phone had been blowing up all day with calls from my mother, none of which I answered. In fact, I had yet to answer a single call from her. I was certain I was in for a visit for this week.
Noah laughed. “At the airport this morning. I was picking a buddy up and he was waiting for a car.”
“And he knew?” I was shocked.
“Yeah,” he shrugged. “I wondered how myself, I knew he was out of touch, so I asked him. He told me he read about in the paper.”
I shook my head. “Go figure.”
“Hey, Olivia is waiting for me out front, she wasn’t feeling well, but let’s do dinner.”
“Let’s,” I said. “I’ll call you.”
I leaned against the bar, again looking for my wife. Wife. I was getting used to that word.
Checking my watch, I frowned. She’d been gone a long time. I decided to go looking for her.
I laughed at myself, but then I did that a lot around her. There was just something irresistible about her. Her charm was infectious. She was my…world. Yes, she had become my world. Thank God Jeremy wasn’t around to see my thoughts. He’d call me the biggest pussy alive.
Just then I saw her rushing into the room looking around for me almost frantically. I could tell something was wrong. Dread pitted in my stomach. What had happened? Had someone said something to her? If it was Avery or Emmy, I wasn’t going to be so nice. Men like me where supposed to be cold and intimidating anyway, I might as give them what they expected.
I pushed through the crowd to reach her. She spotted me across the room, and there was a fear in her eyes I didn’t like. Had someone physically accosted her? My gut knotted just thinking about it.
When I finally reached her, I pulled her to me. Her body was soft and warm, and I knew then that I loved this woman. She was not demanding or ostentatious. She didn’t give a flying fuck about my money or what it could buy. She only cared about me, and whether or not we were compatible.
“Where’s Jeremy?” she asked, her voice full of worry.
“He went to the men’s room, a while ago. Why? What is it?” I glanced around for Phoebe, but she nowhere in sight.
Lindsay hesitated, her breath blowing through her lips.
“What the fuck happened?” I exploded.
Fear seized me by the balls. And that knot that had formed in my gut turned to dread.
“I’m not sure,” she said in a whisper, “but Phoebe left after overhearing something Avery said in the bathroom.”
“Son of a bitch,” I bellowed.
Lindsay flinched from the frustration in my voice, but soon she recovered and nodded.
“What did Phoebe say?” I asked, trying to keep my anger at bay.
“She told me to tell Jeremy she had some things to work out and that she’d call him in the morning.”
Understanding the severity of what had happened, I took her by the hand, “Come on, we need to find him.”
Finding him was easy.
Phoebe, not so much.
After we brought Lindsay home, Jeremy and I searched the whole night for her, but we never did find her. Lindsay had stayed up, keeping in contact with me. It wasn’t until Jeremy and I went to Phoebe’s mother’s house the next morning that we figured out she’d spent the night at her hotel. By the time I returned home to Lindsay, it was after eight in the morning, and I was exhausted.
When I slid into bed beside my wife, she stirred. I reached for her and pulled her close. She was naked, and the satisfaction I felt at having her silky skin beneath my touch was almost as good as sex.
“I love you,” I whispered.
She yawned and rubbed her eyes. “Hmmm?” she asked.
“Nothing,” I said as I kissed her head. “Go back to sleep.”
Her eyelashes fluttered, but she never opened her eyes.
Exhaustion had taken me over as well, and I buried my nose in her hair, content to snuggle as close to her as I possibly could.
As I closed my eyes, I smiled to myself. When we woke up, I planned to lick her from head to toe, and enjoy every square inch of her.
I couldn’t wait.