Page 69 of Fair Trade
His hand lowers to my ass and he gives it a hard squeeze, and I find myself lifting my hips in response, looking for friction to help with the sudden ache between my legs.
Somewhere in the back of my muddled brain, I remember that we’re in public, and the headline printed about us tomorrow morning shouldn’t include the term dry-humping.
I move to pull back, but a hand lands at the nape of my neck, keeping me in place. I smile against his lips.
“And where do you think you’re going?”
His mouth has turned feral, and his hard length pressed against my core informs me that I’m going to have to be the one who saves us from tearing our clothes off.
I swipe my tongue along his full bottom lip once before I lean in and bite it. Hard.
“Ouch, bloody hell. What was that for?” His finger wipes along his lip and comes back with a tiny speck of blood. It was barely a scratch.
I shrug as I wipe around the edges of my lipstick. “Eat the rich, they say.” His jaw drops and he releases a dry laugh. “And what I was going to say before you pounced on me is that, yes, we can kiss when we’re in front of other people. But it should be more appropriate, like a simple peck. Not something they’d have to pay a monthly subscription fee to see.” My head nods at the clear hard-on in his dress pants, and he curses.
I hand him my glass of champagne. “Here, cool off. And maybe you should go to the bathroom before someone—”
“Yeah.” He shakes his head, as if his good sense has arrived. “Meet me by our table. Let me… wait this out for a bit.”
“Sounds like a plan, Mr. Stonehaven.”
“Yeah, yeah. Tease all you want.” He goes to walk past me but stops when we’re shoulder to shoulder. “But you try and bite me like that again, and you better watch that ass,Mrs. Álvarez-Stonehaven. Because I’m coming for you, rules be damned.”
I feel like my cheeks are brighter than my dress as I move among the elegantly clad crowd.
I spot air kisses and exaggerated laughter as I focus on finding my table.
I’m glad that no one tries to stop me on my quest, given I’ve caught more than a few waves and nods in my direction. It seems like some may be biding their time until I have my groom on my arm in order to approach and congratulate us.
But that’s fine, because this part of the night doesn’t stress me out as much.
I’ve gone to more than my fair share of events since I became the GM of the most popular team in the country. Most of them weren’t connected to the sports world, so I don’t feel intimidated by the glamour and hoopla of it all.
If anything, it feels like being a spectator stepping onto the set ofGossip Girl. None of this is real, but it’s fun to watch.
I think I’ve spotted our table when a man steps into my line of vision. I want to scowl because I really want to sit and give my wobbling knees a break after that scorching kiss, but I came here to play nice, so I plaster on a pleasant smile as the older gentleman reaches for my hand.
Suddenly, I realize there is something familiar about him. Like my brain is yelling, trying to tell me who he is before I have to ask.
Is he a part of the board? A member of the Monarchs organization?
No, that’s not ringing any bells.
I don’t want to seem rude, so I place my hand in his when I say, “Luisa Álvarez… Stonehaven.” I almost trip up. “Nice to meet you.”
I’m surprised when he takes my hand and brings it up to his lips. “The pleasure is all mine.” He places a smarmy kiss on myhand, and I force myself to keep the smile on my face, promising myself I’ll wash my hands as soon as this interaction is over.
The atmosphere changes suddenly.
Voices around us seem to come to a halt.
I can feel him before he utters a single word. But I wasn’t prepared for the pure venom that comes out of Nick’s mouth. “Get your fucking hands off my wife.”
The man’s eyes gleam with a level of evil I thought was only reserved for horror movies. I’m no longer concerned about prying eyes and pull my hand back as Nick’s arm wraps around my waist and he tugs me back to stand slightly behind him.
I can see Nick’s chest heaving beneath his expensive suit, and I place a tentative hand on his back, not understanding what’s caused his visceral reaction.
I don’t have to wonder for long, since the man before me answers that question with one simple sentence.
