Page 279 of Mangled Memory
“You’re no innocent, Princess. Why the blush from your tits to your hairline?”
I shrug. I don’t know. “I wish we didn’t have people waiting on us. I wish more that I didn’t look freshly fucked after getting laid because it sure would be nice to alleviate this ache.”
He reaches between my legs and strokes a few times, drawing a gasp from my lips and wetness from my core. “I’ll be thinking of you wet and throbbing all night tonight. You think of me eating your pretty pink pussy until you can’t breathe and then taking my cock until my cum oozes out of you. Deal?”
I squeeze my thighs together, trapping his hand there. “If you keep talking like that, I won’t make it through dinner.”
He kisses below my ear and whispers there, “I’ll be fighting my dick all night too. It wants you. I always want you. And this get-up—” He fingers my romper. “It’s tempting me to abandon business, get on my knees, and worship you the way you deserve.”
His fingers at my core stroke again leaving a wet spot in the silk, and a shiver scurrying up my spine.
By the time we are at the upscale wine bar, my body thrums with pent up sexual frustration, my mind spins on how quickly we can get home, and my face… Well, it tells the man I’m in love with exactly what I’m thinking. Game on.
I’m twirling a cocktail straw around my tongue since no one but Christian is looking when Cian walks in. No sports coat, but high-end trousers and nice shoes round out his starched shirt and cerulean blue tie.
“Hey, Ci.” I lift to kiss his cheek. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“I’m surprised Christian didn’t mention it. He invited me.”
Grr.“He did?”
“Yeah. Just a business thing, right?”
“Now’s your time, you know. Network it up.”
He levels his eyes on me. “Sis, you of all people know how much I hate this kind of stuff.”
“Have you made any decisions?”
He shakes his head. “Lose, lose, lose. With options like those, decisions aren’t fast or easy.”
“I disagree. This is only a win-win. I don’t know what the second win is, but you deserve everything in the world. The least of those is a work environment where you’re not compromising your principles.”
“Thanks.” He rubs a hand across the back of his neck. “I needed the pep talk.”
“Always here for you, Ci. Now, go take on the room and work it like the successful businessman and entrepreneur you are.”
“That last bit is a stretch.”
“No, it’s not.” I spin him by the shoulders and give him a little shove with my last words. “It’s your destiny.”
He gives me a wink over his shoulder and boops the air.
I sidle up to my husband and slide an arm under his, resting my hand on his hip. He’s discussing something that I'm sure at one point I understood or feigned interest in, but now is snooze-worthy. I love the man, but business is boring. More so than they ever made it out in school. It’s mostly listening to people drone on about things I care little about but have to look interested. And I’m not that great an actress. I palm his ass and let my thumb rub the seam between his cheeks subtly before sliding away with a “Pardon me” to his colleagues.
He snags my hand as I’m walking away and tugs me back into his side to whisper in my ear, “Tonight will be fun.”
I sashay away, making sure he sees it.
Taking a seat in the high-backed banquette, I watch the room.
Christian moves with ease. It may be easy sincehe literally owns the room, but, somehow, I know this is a practiced skill, one he’s honed over years ofowning roomsbefore he purchased them.
Cian moves easily through the crowd, but it’s different. He chats with people, not flitting from group to group, but sinking into conversations. His genuine nature is obvious and met with similar depth. At least that’s how it appears.
“Mrs. Barone?” A deep voice pulls me from my musings. Ren Gallo stands near the banquette and extends a hand to the side opposite mine. “May I?”
“Please, Ren. How are you? And how’d you get dragged into this?”
