Page 93 of Black Ties and White Lies

“Aren’t we going to be at the party soon?”

Beck grabs me by the chin, directing my face to look at him. “We’ll be there in about ten minutes. I haveplentyof time to help ease your nerves.”

I suck in air when his finger slips underneath the white lingerie I’d picked out for the occasion. “You noticed?”

“I notice everything about you, Margo. You’ve been clutching my arm nervously from the moment we left home. You’ve also been chewing your lip anxiously. If you’re going to ruin your lipstick, we might as well find a much more exciting way to do it.”

He dives in, branding my heart with the intensity of his kiss. Kissing should get more boring the more you kiss someone, but not with Beck. Every kiss feels like the first one. He expertly moves his tongue against mine, making sure I feel the press of his lipseverywhere. The intensity in which we kiss is no doubt ruining my carefully lined lips. For the time being, I can’t seem to care if I show up at my own engagement party with unevenly lined lips or smudged lipstick. Every woman there probably wouldn’t blame me. If they had Beck at their beck and call, ready to take the nerves away from them in a way that is bound to end in bliss, they’d risk the ruined lipstick as well.

Beck pulls away, his lips stained the same color as mine. He looks down between my legs. “Later tonight, I’m going to fuck you, baby. I’m going to take my time fucking you so hard while you wear nothing but these heels I picked out for you. I don’t have that time right now.” His fingers hook through my panties, pulling them down my legs. “But I want to make you feel good. To take those nerves from you and make you see stars. My mouth on that sweet little pussy of yours and that ring on your finger are me staking claim to what’s mine—you.”

I should stop him, but I want him too deeply to protest. It’s past the point of wanting with him. It’s pure need at all times. So when he tucks my panties into the pocket of his suit and looks at my wetness like a man who's starved, I spread my thighs even wider for him.

“That’s my girl.” He lowers his body to the floor, seating himself between my legs. “Now relax for me. Let me make you feel good.”

My fingers grasp his styled hair as his tongue presses against my clit. When the limo comes to a stop minutes later, I’ve had two orgasms and my nerves have dissipated.

Beck remains on his knees in front of me. His mouth coated with both my lipstick and me. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls my panties back out from his pocket. “As much as I love the thought of you walking around bare, you still wet from coming on my face, I won’t be able to think straight if I knew how easy it’d be to push your dress up to your waist and slip inside you all night.” He picks one leg up and then the other, slipping the fabric back up my legs. I lift my hips, allowing him to put them neatly back in place.

He adjusts my dress so the fabric falls back to the floor of the limo. I’m impressed to find it relatively wrinkle free.

His arms rest at either side of my head as he cages me against the seat with his body. I reach up, running my thumb underneath his lip to remove my lipstick. “You’ve got a little something right there,” I joke.

He allows me to wipe it away, warmth in his eyes as he watches me. “You seem less nervous now.”

I laugh. “A lot less nervous.”

His lips press to my nose for a moment before he pulls away. “Let’s go greet our guests then.”

As we climbthe stairs to the event, I feel an immense amount of pride with Margo on my arm. She’s undoubtedly the most beautiful woman here, and I’ll be introducing her to everyone as my fiancée. It doesn’t get better than that. Nothing could ruin the high I’m feeling.

Planning an engagement party in under a week wasn’t ideal, but I didn’t want to wait. I was ready for everyone to know about us. I was on cloud nine when she’d told me she’d be my girlfriend. It meant more to me than I’d care to admit to myself. From the moment I spoke with her in that awful conference room in LA, I’d told myself to be cautious in the coming months. We’d established everything we were on something that wasn’t real. At least that’s whatshethought.

Margo slips on one of the stairs, her fingers digging into my black suit as she tries to stay vertical. I wrap my arm around her, making sure she doesn’t fall in front of all the eyes watching us.

“I think I just about face planted in front of all of Manhattan,” she mutters under her breath.

I give a courteous nod to those watching us, holding onto her tightly. “I think all of Manhattan is a little bit of a stretch.” I place my hand over hers. If she goes down, we’ll both go down because there’s no way I’m letting her go. “I’ve got you,” I add.

We near the crowd of people waiting at the top of the stairs. I can feel Margo tense underneath me with anxiety. “I worked very hard to get rid of those nerves,” I tease.

She almost stumbles again, my words taking her by surprise. “You can’t bring that up when so many eyeballs are staring at us.”

My response is lost as we reach the top step. Some of our party enjoy cocktails as they wait for our arrival. Instantly people bombard us, all of them offering their congratulations. We politely thank each of them, some of them being the very same board members who’d encouraged me to settle down not too long ago.

We’re finishing up a conversation with my CTO when I spot my parents coming out of the large doors. “If you could excuse us,” I say, planting my hand on Margo’s waist and steering her toward them. It wasn’t just my need for the world knowing we were together that prompted such a quick turnaround for an engagement party, it was also the fact that my parents were about to embark on a month-long trip abroad. I wanted them to be here to celebrate, especially after what happened at dinner with them over a week ago, so hurrying the planning process seemed like the perfect option.

“I’m ready for a drink,” Margo murmurs as we get closer to my parents.

I chuckle, nodding my head. “Ditto.”

“You look radiant,” my mom tells Margo, pulling her into a hug.

Margo hugs her back, seemingly becoming less nervous speaking with a familiar face. “It’s not too much?”

My mom pulls away, her hands still on Margo’s arms as she shakes her head. “Never, sweetie. This is your night. You can wear whatever you want.”

The two of them begin a conversation as my dad claps his hand down on my shoulder. “I’ve got to hand it to you, Beckham. I’ve never seen you this happy.”

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