Page 69 of Worth Every Moment
I escort her to a secluded corner of the bar, where I take a champagne for me and water for her. She takes a sip, full lips pressed to the edge of the glass, eyes wide as she stares at me.
I’m having a hard time concentrating because now I know she’s got no underwear on. I force myself to keep my eyes up, but in my periphery, I can see the outline of her nipples through the silk, and it’s a cruel temptation.
She sets down her glass and, without warning, throws her arms around my neck and kisses my cheek, pressing her nearly naked breasts against my chest. “You’re the best fake boyfriend ever,” she whispers in my ear. “Thank you so, so much. I’m going to be in your debt forever for that display.”
Her enthusiasm draws a laugh from me, and she squeezes me tight before letting go and stepping back.
“Mum’s face was priceless,” Erica continues. “I thought she was going to pass out when you said all that stuff. How on earth did you come up with it? Maybe you’re the one who should be auditioning for the movies.”
I flinch the tiniest bit, surprised she thought I made any of it up. Every word of it was true. “Maybe,” I admit.
“And when you said that thing about me screaming your name…” she fades off, and a blush creeps up her cheeks even as a giggle spills from her beautiful mouth, sounding like a cascade of starlight.
I clench my jaw to hold back the surge of emotion flooding my body, but my hands prickle with it. I want to reach out and pull her against me again. I don’t ever want to let her go. I want to hear her scream my name over and over again. I might want it more than I’ve ever wanted anything.
“She’ll probably have nightmares about that,” I say, forcing a rough laugh.
“Probably.” Erica lays a gentle hand on my arm. “I’m sorry for how she spoke to you.” I keep quiet and she adds, “About the…” She wafts her hand.
“Revolving door?”
Erica grimaces. “Yeah. It’s not personal. Not really. She doesn’t like men, but you’re the worst type. Because…”
She fades off again, but I know what she’s not saying, and she knows I know. Her father ran off with another woman before she was born, and because I haven’t committed myself to anyone before, I could be just as bad as him. “It’s okay. I don’t care what your mother thinks of me.”
“You don’t?”
“No. I only care what you think.”
Erica studies me and the moment crackles; if I were to touch her, static would spark between us.
“Well, I think you’re great,” she says with a levity that undermines the tension and, I hope, whatever she really feels. She pops a hip and rests a hand on it, pushing her lips into a theatrical pout. “But are we going to talk about how you just had your hand down my dress?”
The sight of her pretending to be riled up for confrontation draws a snort from me, and I’m thankful she’s redirected the conversation.
“Are we going to talk about how you’re not wearing any underwear?”
“No. But I admit you were right, and I was wrong. We need to have the physical contact to make this convincing.” She taps her chin. “I don’t want to scrap the rules entirely though. I want to tweak them.”
“Let’s hear it.”
Her tongue slides over her bottom lip, leaving it glistening and moist. I try not to look. “Your hand on my bum is fine, but only in public, and only over my clothes.”
I hold back the grin that wants to work its way over my mouth. “So we’re not getting naked together anytime soon?”
She affects a coy smile, eyes gleaming. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was flirting with me. “No.” She pauses. “Unless my mother can see.”
I chuckle. “That’s some kinky shit you’re into, Lefroy.”
She gasps and lands a playful thwack on my arm. It’s definitely a flirtatious move, and if she were anyone else, I’d think she wanted something to happen between us. But with Erica, I have no fucking clue what she wants aside from the role inTaming thefuckingBeast.
“Not what I meant and you know it,” she reprimands, but I don’t reply because over her shoulder I catch sight of Mrs Lefroy re-entering the ballroom. Setting my glass aside, I loosen my bow tie and rapidly unbutton my shirt.
Erica’s jaw drops wide and she reaches out to stop me. “What are you doing?”
“Mummy’s here.” I nod at where Mrs Lefroy is standing on the other side of the room, throwing daggers our way.
Erica glances over, then turns back to me with a cheeky glimmer in her eye. I arch a brow, asking wordless permission, and Erica grants it with a nod. With my shirt half undone, I haul her into me, sliding my hand right back down the low scoop back of her dress, but not inside it this time.
