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She ignored him, that deep, satisfied tone sending a fresh wave of arousal washing over her as she dug into her tiny purse for her lip gloss. “You kissed all the lip gloss off.”
“Yeah, I think I’m still wearing some.”
Glancing up, she saw the telltale signs of pinkish-gold glittery gloss lingering on his full bottom lip. Now that she studied him, she realized he had a bit of a frazzled look to him, too. His hair was sticking up in odd places and his eyes were a little glazed. As if he enjoyed that kiss just as much as she did…
Pleasure rippled through her, that she could affect him as much as he affected her. The turbulence in his gaze countered his outward calm. That she’d done that to him made her smile.
The driver put the limo in park and she yanked out the lip gloss, glancing toward the door she knew would open in mere moments. “Let me touch up my lips first.”
“No.” He slipped his fingers around her wrist, stopping her from doing anything his grip was so strong. Yet gentle. His tone firm, his gaze like ice when it lit upon her, she slowly dropped the lip gloss back into her bag. “You need to look just like that.”
“Just like what?” she whispered.
He smiled grimly. “Like I tried to fuck you in the back of a limo.”
Her jaw dropped open. Did he have to be so crude?
And since when did she find crude so…arousing?
The door opened, a man’s friendly face suddenly appearing. “Are you ready Mr. Quinn? Mrs. Quinn?”
Oh, God. Her stomach dropped to her toes at hearing her referenced as his wife. She could hardly believe this was happening to her. Like she’d fallen into some sort of alternate universe where a regular woman like her somehow snagged a sexy, gorgeous man like Jared.
“Oh, no you don’t.” Leaning in, he laced his fingers with hers and kissed her. Again. Slipped her some tongue. Again.
He pulled away from her with such a smug smile on his face she wanted to smack him. Or kiss him.
Okay, kiss him.
“Let’s go, baby.” Grinning, he released his hold on her and climbed out of the car, the crowd waiting at the entrance of the restaurant erupting in a roar like she’d never heard before in her life. He turned to her, offering her his hand and she took it, surprised at the reassuring squeeze. “They’re going to love you.”
When he said it like that, she half believed him.
…
There was a red carpet area set up directly in front of the restaurant. A spot roped off to hold back the swarm of photographers that jostled against one another. All of them eager to capture the moment, the first time Jared Quinn made a public appearance with his new wife.
Wife. The word still boggled his mind. As did the woman he now called Mrs. Quinn. She clutched his hand tightly as they walked the short red carpet, wincing as they shouted her name and his.
He gave her hand a squeeze, releasing it as they stopped to pose for the photographers. Slipping his arm around her slender waist, he pulled her in close, his hand resting on her hip. She tentatively placed her arm around him as well, her curvy body snug against his. Barely reaching his shoulder, even with her sexy gold stilettos, he realized yet again just how tiny she was.
“Jared! Give your new wife a kiss!” one of the photographers shouted, resulting in practically every one of them urging him to lay one on Sheridan.
Pressing his lips to her forehead sent off a frenzy of furious snapping. Her scent wrapped around him, sweetly exotic, the juxtaposition arousing him. She exhaled shakily, he felt the tremble move through her body and he dipped his head, put his lips close to her ear.
“Relax,” he whispered, letting his hand slide down over the sweet curve of her ass. She jumped beneath his touch and he left his hand there, feeling possessive. God damn, she felt good beneath his palm.
Forgetting everything, he kissed her. Soft and sweet, his mouth lingered on hers, his tongue darting out for a quick lick. He felt her lips stretch into a smile when all the paparazzi went ape shit over the photo op they’d just been gifted.
It wasn’t a hardship, kissing the woman. That kiss in the limo had been all sorts of amazing. Their chemistry was off the charts and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it.
“Let’s go,” he murmured when he broke the kiss, offering a nod to the still snapping and yelling photographers. “We’re out.” Every one of them tripped over themselves to scream a litany of questions, all wanting to know the same thing. How did they meet, why did they marry so quickly, what about the Wallace scandal?
He ignored all of them. Tugging on Sheridan’s hand, he led her into the crowded restaurant, where they were both greeted warmly by Charlie and his wife, Margaret. All the while he was ultra aware of the woman standing next to him, her tiny hand in his, the scent of her intoxicating him.
If he survived the night without attempting to jump her bones, he’d deserve a medal.
Chapter Seven
