Chapter One
My post-breakup pig-out boobs were doing their best to escape from my red, empire-waist dress. I hoisted up the bodice and strolled into the ballroom where the charity fundraiser was taking place.
Beneath the glittering chandeliers, fifty round tables were immaculately set with antique rose cloths, gold candlesticks, and gleaming crystal glassware. It was romantic beyond words, and Nate’s absence hit me like a punch to the solar plexus.
Had it really been three weeks since he handed back his keys? I wrapped an arm around my stomach and gave myself a reassuring squeeze. I could get through this. One night away from the sofa and HGTV marathons wouldn’t kill me.
The event planner, Sarah, a vision in turquoise satin, patrolled the long room, barking orders at the wait staff. When she spotted me, she marched over with a flute of sparkling champagne clutched between her fingers.
“You look fabulous, Maddy. Loving the red hair.” She leaned in for an air kiss. “Has the shithead found his balls and called?”
“Nope.”
“He’s a damn basta—”
A thunderous crash resounded through the room. Startled, I glanced behind Sarah. A ten-foot cascading flower arrangement of yellow roses and pink lilies lay broken and battered over a once perfect table.
“We’ll finish this conversation later,” Sarah said, “because right now, I’m going to fucking kill someone.” She balled up her skirt and stormed off toward the floral debris.
I grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and sauntered through a set of open French doors onto the balcony. Dusk had fallen, and the glowing lights of the hazy skyline lit up the city. A balmy summer breeze wisped over my shoulders, and with a sigh, I leaned my elbows against the waist-high railing.
Closing my eyes, I raised the sweating champagne flute to my lips and flicked my tongue over the weeping condensation, wishing I were flicking it over Nate’s delicious mouth. Why didn’t I hate him for running out on me?
I tapped the glass against my pursed lips. I knew I should start living in the real world and stop my obsessive fantasizing about a happily-ever-after with him. If I wanted to get over Nate, I needed to find someone who wanted the same things I did—a future, a relationship, a family. My ex only wanted a hook-up, albeit a long-term one.
But, God, I missed the sex. It wasn’t like there weren’t enough toys in my nightstand to keep me satisfied, but the urge to use any of them had left along with Nate. What I missed were the things the toys couldn’t provide: the weight of his body covering mine, his cock fucking me deep, the way his teeth sank into my breasts just hard enough to make me squeal. Shivers raced down my spine at the memories of our bedroom antics.
The low murmur of voices and raucous laughter floated out to the balcony, shaking me from my reverie, and a dull pang of loneliness stabbed my heart. I supposed there was no time like the present to hike up my big-girl panties and go inside. I was here to support a charity, not mope over my ex-boyfriend, even if all I wanted was to run home, take off my three-inch heels and straitjacket dress, and stick a spoon into a tub of Chocolate Therapy ice cream.
I was about to turn around when a pair of familiar, strong hands gripped the railings either side of my waist.
Panic squeezed my chest, pushing all air out of my lungs until dizziness left me punch-drunk.
“Nate?”
I clutched the railing so hard my knuckles whitened. Why the hell was he here?
Warm lips brushed the nape of my neck, sending shivers down my spine. “You taste better than ever.”
His thick arms threaded around my waist, his hips pressed against my lower back, and an enticing erection was evident through my many layers of silk and chiffon. Tremors rushed through me as my arousal soared, and I almost staggered back at my body’s Pavlovian response to his presence and touch. If I didn’t loosen my grip, the delicate champagne stem in my hand was in danger of snapping in two.
“So nice of you to crawl out from under your rock.”
“We have to talk,” he said, sounding smooth and steady. “I need to explain.”
This wasn’t happening. I snorted and stared into my glass, concentrating on the popping bubbles. “I’m not interested.”
I could lie to myself all I wanted, but the truth left my inner thighs and panties more than a little damp. I didn’t want him here. Nor did I want him thrusting deep inside of me while I screamed his name. And I so didn’t want the tip of his weeping cock swirling over my swollen clit. Nope. I wanted none of that.
He splayed his hand over my stomach, pulled me backward, and nudged his erection against the cleft of my ass.
“This is what you do to me. What you always do to me.” His voice cracked. “I’m sorry, Maddy. I was an idiot. Stupid. Blind.”
My throat begged for water. Sweat pooled beneath my arms, and I swatted his hands away before turning to face him. “What exactly do you think you’re doing?”
“Raising money for the homeless and seducing my girlfriend.”
“You don’t need to be here to raise money, and I don’t want to be seduced.” Despite my bravado, my voice shook along with my legs. “When you pretended I didn’t exist, I stopped being your girlfriend.”
He looked better than ever. His tailored Italian suit encased his muscular, six-foot-one frame perfectly. My fingers itched to push back the messy, sun-streaked hair that fell onto his tanned face and curled over his collar. But his hazel eyes, usually filled with mischief, seemed sad, haunted.
The expression on his face was so intense I was unable to look for more than a few seconds. I dragged my gaze down and watched the rise and fall of his chest instead. I couldn’t allow him to waltz back into my life whenever he felt like it.
Nate gripped the railings, and his forearms imprisoned me, blocking my exit. I bent my arm and elbowed his bicep, but he didn’t even flinch. His arms were as unyielding as welded steel.
“I thought about you every day.” His words warmed my skin. “I just needed some time to figure things out. I… miss you.”
I glanced up at him, but his eyes darted to the swell of my breasts, and his mouth curved into a sinful smile.
“The Jessica Rabbit look suits you.”
“Don’t even go there.” Tendrils of fire curled up my spine. I breathed deeply and squeezed my thighs together, attempting to alleviate the clawing ache.
Oh, God, what would it feel like to have his fingers rub my pulsing clit, to have him tease, lick, and bite me? One more time before we said goodbye forever couldn’t hurt.
Confusion flooded my senses, but I gritted my teeth and willed my body to calm the hell down.
“It’s done. We’re through.” Even as the words left my mouth, I didn’t know who I was trying to convince, him or me.
Nate’s expression darkened. He traced his fingertips along my collarbone and rested them over the hollow of my neck. Then, with a half-smile, he stepped away.
But, before releasing me completely, he leaned forward and placed a barely-there kiss below my ear.
“Your words tell me one thing. Your body tells me another.”
“Asshole.” I pushed past him and darted into the ballroom. I was so finished with Nate and his mind games.
The ballroom hummed with polite chitchat, and when a chiming dinner bell sounded, hundreds of guests in designer gowns and suits swarmed toward their tables. I tipped my glass to my mouth, drained the now warm champagne, and attempted to relax, but since Nate and I were within a two-mile radius of each other, that would be impossible.
After finding my assigned seat, I plopped down, glanced at the names on the embossed place cards on either side of mine—Max Little and John Schofield—and hoped they would at least be good company.
The chair beside me pulled out, and I fixed a fake smile upon my face before looking up.
“Hi, I’m Mad…”
Nate stared down at me with a lopsided grin I knew only too well. It meant he was horny with wicked thoughts on his mind.
“What a coincidence,” he said and popped his name card on the table. “We’re sitting together.”
His thigh touched off mine. The warmth emanating from his leg made my pulse stampede, and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep myself from showing any kind of reaction.
“That seat’s been taken by Max Little.”
Nate gave a throaty chuckle. “I know Max. He’s as boring as a wet weekend, and these charity galas are boring enough.” Reaching over, he caressed my cheek. “If you’d like, we can make it less boring.”
“No, I wouldn’t like.” My eyes caught his hypnotizing gaze. Raw heat pulsed through my body. It would be so easy to forget his disappearing act and give my body what it wanted.
“This isn’t fair, Nate.” I picked up my napkin and twisted it in my lap. “We want different things. I want a future. You made it clear you don’t.”
He caught my chin between his thumb and forefinger and forced me to look at him. His heavy-lidded eyes burrowed into my soul.
“What if I said I wanted more?”
His words kicked the air out of my body, and for a second, I forgot how to breathe.
More? How many times in our two years together had he said commitment was for fools? And how many times had I hoped he’d change his mind—that when he realized how much I loved him, he’d settle down? Whenever I wanted to talk about our future, he’d clam up or make excuses. Three weeks ago, when I’d suggested moving in together, he bolted.
Being this close to him was dangerous for my sanity. I needed to get away.
With surprising control, I stood, placed my napkin on the table, and strode out of the ballroom. I’d apologize to Sarah later.