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I turned to look at her again. “Will you come with me?”
“Of course.”
“It’s Saturday night.”
“We’ll get a pizza afterward and down a bottle of scotch.”
I smirked. “I’d like to see you drink scotch.”
“I don’t love it, but I don’t mind it.”
“That’s sexy.” I watched her beautiful face in the glow of the fire. Winter tried to shatter the glass behind me and snuff out the fire that kept her warm. There was something about the look in her eyes, the sadness that swirled like a storm, the slight smile still on her lips, one that was faked just for my benefit. Everything about her captivated me.
She left the armchair and sauntered toward me, but instead of dropping that beautiful ass in my lap, she lowered herself to her knees on the rug in front of me, her hands starting at my thighs and sliding to my knees. “You’re sexy.” Her hands slid back up my legs and moved to the top of my jeans underneath my shirt. With her eyes locked on mine, she popped the button then pulled down the zipper, getting the snug jeans loose so she could tug them down just enough to give her access to what she needed. She grabbed my dick like a lollipop she’d won at a carnival and pressed her tongue to the base before she slowly rose up, dragging her tongue along my thick vein, and then sealed my head inside her plump lips.
I relaxed in the armchair as my hand dug into her hair, watching her go to town on my big dick. She started off slow, just tasting me and licking me, but then she flattened her tongue and pushed the whole thing to the back of her throat, gagging slightly because it was almost too much for her. She quickly recovered and kept going. “There you go, Pretty…”
21
SCARLETT
After I put on my dress, I clasped the bracelet to my wrist and put the diamond earrings in my lobes. Tonight, I’d chosen to wear a black cocktail dress because black was always the safest bet. My jewelry matched my wedding ring, platinum and shiny. I wondered if his parents would notice me and realize I was married to their son.
Axel grabbed the jacket hanging on the back of the armchair and slipped it on before he secured the button. He could do his own tie without even looking in the mirror because growing up as a wealthy socialite had given him all those skills.
I walked out in my dress and heels, my coat over my arm.
He looked me up and down as he folded down his collar and smoothed out his jacket. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes showed his approval. Then a flirty smile moved over his lips as he stepped toward me. “Here.” He grabbed my coat and opened it for me, helping me get it on without messing up my hair. “Ready?”
“Yeah.”
He opened the door and let me walk out first.
We headed down the hallway, down the stairs, and then entered the elevator.
“You didn’t say anything about my dress.”
He smirked. “I’ll show you how much I like it later.” The doors opened, and he blocked them from closing until I stepped out first. He helped me into the car before he left the garage and drove through the busy streets to get to the art gallery. Like always, his hand held mine on my knee, a routine we had established and hadn’t broken. When we came to a stoplight, he relaxed in his seat, his elbow propped on the windowsill beside him. He traced the scruff of his beard, staring ahead with a dazed look in his eyes.
“Are you nervous?”
“I don’t get nervous.”
“You said you didn’t do dates either, but now you’re married.”
That sexy smirk returned. “You’re special, baby.”
“Why?” I turned to look at him.
His eyes were still on the road, waiting for the light to turn green. “Because you are.” The light changed, and he grabbed the wheel so he could drive through the intersection and continue on our way.
The rest of the drive was spent in silence. We pulled up to the art gallery moments later, and the valet took the car before we walked inside. The room was full of people dressed for the occasion, and I wondered if this was all socialites ever did—pick out a new dress and wait for the next party invitation.
Axel slid his arm around my waist and kept it there, introducing me to people he knew from his work in the community or people he’d known his whole life through social circles. If anyone knew that he was estranged from his parents, they didn’t seem to show it. And if they believed he was truly guilty of the crimes he'd served two years in prison for, they didn’t seem to show that either.
