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“So is this how you’re going to exact your revenge?” She tilted her head sideways, her hair slipping over one eye. “I may fight you.”
Finally he smiled, if a momentary curve of lips could be called that. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
Rattlesnake-fast, he pushed up her dress, his big hands dwarfing her thighs. His palms were so hot on her skin. Burning her up. He made a sound deep in his throat at the sight of her barely-there lacy panties. And then he stepped forward into the vee of her legs, shifting them apart so that he could kneel on the bench. With the difference in their heights, he was at the perfect angle to surge up against her, one hard thrust that took her completely by surprise. She gasped, not nearly satisfied with the contact through their clothes. Her thong wasn’t much of a barrier, but his tux sure was. He thrust again, making that same low, needful sound. Coaxing the same from her, louder and keener.
She gripped the railing, arching into him, beseeching him without words to take her harder, to at least give her this if he wouldn’t go any further. She was already wet, the fabric chafing her at the press of his length. Oh God, was he thick, and harder than the wood she held on to for dear life.
Still it wasn’t enough. How could it be? The friction of his strokes was fabulous, but there was too much material between them. Not even the glittering intensity of his gaze could erase that.
“Now who’s being a fucking tease,” she said hoarsely, biting her lip in frustration at his parry and retreat.
Cory said nothing while he ramped up his siege between her legs. Grinding deep, saturating the flimsy strip between them. He dragged her legs farther apart, then farther still, arching up into her while his eyes locked on her face as if he were cataloging her reactions to study later. She wouldn’t put it past him. She wished she could give him a little something in return, but in this position she couldn’t do much. Other than sliding up and down, which he seemed to enjoy. A lot.
He bore down, leaning so close to her that his sweet breath wafted over her parted lips. She couldn’t take in enough air so now he offered her his. Her taxed lungs cramped and she flung her head back, the lights above blurring as he hit the exact right spot to stimulate her painfully swollen clit. Her nails scraped the wood, splinters slicing her skin. She didn’t care. He was moving faster, and she was moving too, bowing up so that if he lowered his mouth just a couple of inches he could take one of her achy nipples between his lips.
And then he did, just one swipe of his teeth and tongue over the sensitive tip through her dress.
The furor building inside her exploded, taking the last of her control with it. She didn’t scream, didn’t cry out. Just dragged her focus from those now-wildly-twinkling lights to fuse her gaze with his. All she could see were his pupils, so large and deep that she could fall into them and never want to leave.
Cory Santangelo had made her come, mere feet away from where the party to celebrate his family’s charity still raged on. Talk about insanity. The best kind.
She smiled. A kinda sucky, lonely night had turned around, after all.
The silence that descended between them was absolute except for the competition to see which of them could breathe harder. She was about to reach down to repay the favor when he jerked back, his jaw going to granite. He shook his head, brushing off her touch as if she were a mosquito. “No. This is enough.”
Questions sprang to her tongue. Denials. Even pleas. She wasn’t ready for her escape from reality to end, not after the day she’d had. Not when she remembered the long night alone she faced. But she had pride. She’d already thrown herself at the guy, encouraged by her fancy alcoholic enhancement, and that constituted
enough humiliation for one evening.
She let go of the railing and sagged to the padded bench. Her thighs were still quivering. But her heart? That, thankfully, was already going cold, helped along by his indifference. “So go.”
He’d taken two steps away when he seemed to realize what he was acting like—an actual dick. Not that such an unrefined word would ever leave his mouth. “We had a moment, now it’s over.”
“Jeez, that’s beautiful. Should I cue my harp or do you want to grab your tiny one—” she glanced at his crotch “—first?”
His jaw firmed. “Are you certain you’re all right?”
Wow, did he actually care? “I’m certain,” she said, mimicking his cool tone. If he noticed, she couldn’t tell. “It’s all good. I got what I wanted, didn’t I?” She gave him a fleeting smile she so didn’t feel and waved her fingers. “Have fun in the shower.”
And he would. He couldn’t have faked that steely erection, even if he’d managed to make her believe for a few minutes that he could see her as a woman and not just a thorn in his side.
He stared at her for a moment longer, then nodded in his typical king-of-the-universe manner. “Very well. I’ll see you Monday.”
“Sure.” She couldn’t wait for their twice-weekly magazine strategy session. Tons o’ fun.
Still, he didn’t leave. He studied her, making her heated skin prickle uncomfortably. The throbbing flesh between her thighs didn’t really help her decision to be cucumber-cool, but she could adapt.
By getting the hell out of there.
She grabbed her purse and rose, stiffening at his retreating footsteps. She didn’t turn until she was sure he was gone. Then she gathered her long hair in a messy topknot with a band from her bag and took off before the night could get any worse.
…
Sunday found Cory in his office at Value Hardware, as was his routine. Normally he’d also gotten some sleep the night before, but after the benefit that hadn’t happened.
Not even close.
Every time his mind veered to the events in the gazebo he redirected his thoughts to the task at hand. Forcibly. He worked through breakfast, then halfway to lunch. Occasionally he wandered into the store to pretend to be sociable, though he left that to his brother and his parents as much as possible. But Dillon had yet to come up for air after his romantic reconciliation, and his parents had gone shopping to prepare for their imminent cross-country move.
