Page 34 of Must Have Been Love

Dear god, I hope I’m not broken inside. I’ve always had a healthy sex life. Or I did until my life twisted into what it is now. Sure, I’m discreet but I’m a fucking man.

“I can’t wait to meet her. I think you know my father.”

It’s clicking now. “Your dad is Martin Armstrong?” One of the wealthiest men on the east coast. I’ve done a lot of business with him in the past. He’s in his sixties, and from the looks of it Sylvie must be in her early thirties.

“That’s right. We’ve met before, but you probably don’t remember. At one of his parties. We have a lot of mutual friends.”

“I’m sure we do,” I say. “Half of them are probably here.”

She laughs, her eyes crinkling. “I know you’re going to be super busy, but if you have a chance later, it would be great to get to know you better.” She leans forward to kiss my cheek at exactly the same moment my eyes land on a pair of perfect lips and a silver lip stud and my whole body tightens in response.

Skyler Brown walks in, her stride so damn sassy it makes my dick weep. She stands out like a sore thumb in the sea of pastel princesses, because she’s wearing some kind of dark brown leather bodice, laced so tightly it pushes her breasts up so high that I swear she’s a breath away from a wardrobe malfunction.

Her skirt is white and gauzy – so gauzy, in fact, that I can see the outline of her legs through it. It takes every fucking ounce of effort I have not to look to see if she’s wearing panties.

“Excuse me,” I murmur to Sylvie. “I should go greet my other guests. I’ll see you at the party.”

“It’s a date,” she says, looking happy at my words.

But I barely hear her over the rush of hot blood that drums in my ears and pumps to my groin. How could I ever have thought I might be dead inside.

I’m fucking alive and kicking. And desiring.

Striding over to where she’s standing, I nod at Jesse, who’s dressed as Flynn Ryder, which was one of the outfits Autumn tried to persuade me to wear.

But it’s Skyler I’m looking at. Skyler who is looking straight at me, her eyes a challenge, her lips curled into a taunting smile.

Fuck, I want her. Like I’ve never wanted anything else before. I want to make her come so hard the smile melts from her lips, replaced by her screaming my name.

The need is getting almost impossible to ignore.

“You promised me slutty princess,” I murmur, as Jesse walks off to chat with somebody else.

Her smile widens into a grin. “At least I’m dressed up. What are you dressed as? Let me guess. Designer business man who needs a personality transplant?”

I grin. “Prince William, actually.”

“Close then.” She runs the tip of her tongue over her top lip. I’ve never met a woman so unknowingly sensual.

“And who are you?” I ask her, mesmerized by that mouth.

“Xena, Warrior Princess.”

“Of course you are.” I can’t help it, I smile back. Because there’s no way this woman would have come as a Disney princess like all the other women – and girls – here.

“It’s suits you.”

“Is that a compliment?” Her brows lift. “Excuse me while I faint.”

“I’m royalty today,” I tell her. “I have to be nice to everybody.”

“It’s a shame, isn’t it? You should have come as Henry the eighth. You could have ordered all the women to have their heads chopped off.”

“That’s one way of getting the party to finish early,” I say. “A missed opportunity.”

She tips her head to the side. Her dark hair shines beneath the lights of the receptions’ chandeliers. She has a leather crown tied across her brow and around to the back of her hair. “You know,” she says softly. “You’re kind of fun when you take that stick out of your ass.”

“I’m not sure whether that’s a compliment or criticism,” I reply.

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