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“So this is all you? Your creations?” He flipped the card, staring at the glossy little rectangle intently. “Natalee.” He stroked every syllable with his tongue. Savoring it. When he looked up at me, mid swallow, I couldn’t stop excitement from seizing every inch of my body.
“I have no idea how I forgot you,” he continued, his voice low and husky. “But I can guarantee you it won’t happen again.”
“Well, I’m sure the business card will help,” I fired back weakly. I was all bark and no bite, and from his smirk, he knew it.
Realizing I was still holding a half eaten cupcake and probably had frosting all over my face to boot, I reached for a napkin.
“Let me.”
It wasn’t a question or a request. It was becoming clear that Jason Cox was a man that asked for forgiveness rather than permission.
He swiped his thumb over my lips, pausing on the spot just below my bottom one. Before I could protest or remind myself to breathe, he brought his thumb to his mouth and licked it.
I trembled, remembering all too well how that tongue felt.
Tracing my erotic flesh. Diving inside me hungrily.
My head, my brain, struggled to hit the ‘abort’ button. To remind myself that he left me high and dry on NYE. That he almost made me wet my pants before the ceremony, and not in a sexy way, but all I could think about was his mouth.
“I’m sorry, Natalee,” he continued. That coffin was back with a vengeance, and he was pounding the final nail in it.
Here lies Natalee Madison’s common sense. RIP.
I had no reason to believe him, but something told me that he wasn’t the kind of man that did a whole lot of apologizing, so when he used those two words, he meant it.
Before I did something ridiculous like accept said apology, I picked up a cupcake and thrusted it in his direction. “Happens all the time.” I thanked my lucky stars when a group of tweens hustled over, their eyes glazing over the table with hunger. “Cupcakes, ladies?”
Jason got the message, but I caught him stealing glances from afar.
It was the dumbest thing I could have done, but I let him catch me smiling back.
Once.
Okay, twice.
CHAPTER FOUR: JASON
“Take the notecards, Cox.”
Jessie Stone’s growl left no room for debate, but she still hadn’t learned that I was at least as stubborn as she was.
I didn’t need any notecards to guide me through my toast to the newlyweds. What I needed, what I craved, was a do over with Natalee Madison.
I brought the glass filled with more scotch than ice to my lips, my eyes needing no GPS to know right where to go. It cut through the thunder of the drums, the haughty laughter and cell phones that gleamed as brightly as the stars overhead. Even the servers parted like The Red Sea, giving me a bird’s eye view of the one woman who made this whole charade worth it.
She must have felt my eyes on her because her friend, a busty blonde that should have been just my type but paled in comparison to Natalee, whispered something to the fierce brunette. Natalee’s sweetheart mouth rounded, like she was taken aback. Her skin, already the color of the midnight moon, turned downright supernatural, like she was being visited by unwelcome ghosts of her past.
Like that night that she found memorable enough to curse your name when you were reunited, but somehow, you couldn’t place her.
It didn’t seem possible because Natalee stood out, and it had nothing to do with her pants and blouse in a sea of extravagance. There was a fight in her, something that told me she was no stranger to men disappointing her, so she played the role of indifference. She hid her beauty behind buns and professionalism. She probably thought that her understated makeup helped her fly under the radar, but it made her shine brighter than anyone else in the room. Her big, green eyes that kept no secrets, glowed without the assistance of whatever sorcery women used. The lips that looked supple and delicious without lipstick. The high cheekbones that bloomed red without an artificial tint.
Jessie’s voice was like an unpleasant hum, a gnat I swatted away as I took another gulp, my view obstructed by an elderly couple that was dancing to some Motown classic like it was the first time.
I’d only learned her name twenty minutes ago, and already she was upsetting my routine. I didn’t notice faces; I noticed bodies. A nice round set of breasts, weighing out if the woman was the type who loved to have her nipples teased with gentle flicks or twisted until she cried out in equal parts pleasure and pain. The curve of the hips made me wonder if she’d like it if I gripped them tight while I took her from behind or stroked the line of it, digging my fingertips into the flesh while she rode my cock to ecstasy. And the ass? Well, that was my favorite part, stripping a woman with one look, fantasizing about kneading the cheeks.
Smacking them.
Faces were forgettable,but I couldn’t seem to take my eyes off of Natalee’s, especially when it became abundantly clear that she was working overtime to keep her eyes off me.
