Page 129 of Mr. Charming

“Keep going…”

His fingers find my panties, and he slides a finger under the elastic. I close my eyes, and he buries his head in my neck.

“I love the way you smell.” He sucks my earlobe into his mouth, then nips at it. Pushing the wet silk fabric to the side, he runs the tip of his finger through my folds. “I want to fuck you right here. You have no idea the restraint it’s taking to not turn you around and take you like a rutting animal from behind.”

I rub the bulge in his pants, wanting him to do just that. He positions his body so it’s easier access for both of us, and I use the space to pull at the end of his belt, opening it. His finger continues its exploration, and his thumb rubs the lightest circles over my clit.

Somehow, I get his belt free, his pants unbuttoned, and his zipper down while he’s driving me to the edge with his fingers. I tuck my hand down the front of his boxer briefs and find him hot and hard in my palm. He sucks in a breath, cursing.

I tighten my fist with the amount of pressure I know he loves. The one good thing about being with someone so long is the fact that you know how to get them there fast.

Just when I’m about to fall to my knees to take him in my mouth, the door opens and a woman giggles.

“What about your wife?” a woman says.

Both of us freeze. Then we scramble to get ourselves presentable, except we’re already found no matter who it is. Tweetie zips up his pants, and I shove my dress back down.

“Don’t worry about her.”

Tweetie and I look at one another with open mouths.

Bud Caldron.

As if I didn’t already know he’s a slimy prick—but his wife is in the other room. Maybe she’s aware of his philandering, maybe she’s not. Regardless, hooking up when she’s in the other room is a new low, even for Bud.

Tweetie’s hand finds mine, and he moves to leave as soon as we have an opening. I really hope they take another spot in the coatroom and we can sneak out.

As we’re sliding along the wall, the coats push apart, and Bud emerges with a girl who’s way too young behind him. And she’s not even the same girl from the dinner. So he’s a habitual cheater, not just in love with someone who’s not his wife.

Laughter erupts out of him, and he releases the girl’s hand. “Well, well, well. Look who we have here.”

I want to punch the smug look off his face.

Tweetie’s hand tightens around mine, and he steps forward, positioning me behind him.

Oh no, he doesn’t. I step up to his side. Tweetie glances at me but says nothing, concentrating his attention on Bud.

“You’re like two defective magnets,” he says, shaking his head.

“And who’s your guest?” I ask.

Bud cuts his gaze to me. “It’s none of your business. She doesn’t work for the national league or any other hockey organization. What I’m doing isn’t against the rules. Can you say the same?”

“So marriage vows don’t matter?” Tweetie asks, obviously seething.

Bud laughs. “Give me a fucking break. Your old flame comes back to town, and you decide you’re all about monogamy? You’ll dump her the minute she goes back to New York and be back to your philandering ways.”

I’ve had about enough of this man. I release Tweetie’s hand and step in front of him, poking my finger in Bud’s chest. “You’re a piece of shit. You don’t know me. You don’t know Tweetie, and you know nothing about our relationship.” I lean around him to look at the girl. “And seriously, have a little respect for yourself and his wife. I’m not sure what he told you to get you to come in here, but it’s not worth compromising your dignity.”

The girl starts crying and runs out of the coatroom without saying a word.

“You’re done,” Bud says with a slimy grin. “I’m calling Mr. Herington. Fraternizing with the players? You’ll never come back from this. Say goodbye to your career, Tedi. Or is that how you got as high up as you did? Did you fuck your way to the top? And now you don’t care because you hitched your wagon to Tweetie?”

Tweetie’s hands land on my hips, and he practically picks me up and sets me down behind him. Then he cocks his fist back and punches Bud in the face. “Watch what you say to my woman.”

I gasp, and my hands fly up to cover my mouth while Bud cowers, his hands up until Tweetie backs off.

Once it’s clear that Tweetie isn’t going to punch him again, he points at Tweetie with a scowl. “And now you’re done. Enjoy each other, you two, you just torched your careers.”

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