“First time?” Caleb asks conversationally.
“Not for me,” Hunter answers. “It’s her first time.”
Caleb’s gaze flickers to me. “How are you enjoying your first visit to my fine city, Riley?”
I cross my arms, still not liking this guy despite his feigned friendliness. “It’s… cold.”
A smile grazes his lips. “Boston isn’t cold?”
Hunter slides a hand up my back, then casually pulls me in so he can kiss my forehead. As he does, he murmurs, “Relax.”
I’m too tense to relax, but since he wants me to, I make an attempt to be less chilly. “I like your Christmas colors,” I murmur, gesturing from Caleb in his green velvet jacket to Zoey in her tight red dress. She looks spectacular. They both do, really, though I’m reluctant to pay him a compliment—even in my head where he can’t hear it.
I thought I was being friendly, but her expression shifts with alarm. “Us? Oh, God, no. We’re not…” She shakes her head, frowning. “The Christmas colors are a total coincidence. We’re not here together. I mean, we are, but we’re not a couple. Caleb’s my boyfriend’s friend, we’re just sittin’ at his table.”
Caleb smirks. “I like how you put as much lingual distance between us as you possibly can.” Looking at us, he says, “She’s my friend, too.”
She doesn’t argue with him, but she looks at me and mouths “not really.”
I crack a real smile. I may not be a fan of his, but I do like her.
“Anyway,” Caleb says, settling a hand on Zoey’s hip and drawing her closer to him, “I was just about to tell my new friends here they should stop by my restaurant while they’re in town.”
Zoey peels his hand off her hip, but she does it so naturally, she’s not even mildly distracted as she tells us, “If you do, make sure you get the chocolate cake for dessert—it’s to die for. Don’t get a piece to share, either. It’ll be your biggest regret in life.”
“We’ll each get our own piece,” I promise her.
She gives me a thumbs up, then steps away from Caleb before he can get handsy with her again. “I’m going back to the table.” Turning to us, she says, “It was nice to meet you guys. I’m serious about that cake.”
I offer a tiny wave before she walks away, but I’m kinda sad to see her go. I’m rarely drawn to people this way, but I feel like I want to be her friend.
Drawing my attention back to him as he reaches into his pocket, Caleb asks, “Will you be in town for long?”
Hunter shakes his head. “Just the weekend. We fly home tomorrow night.”
Caleb extends a business card. “Well, if you find yourselves hungry before you leave, I own the best steakhouse in Manhattan. You won’t be able to get a reservation for tomorrow, but I have a separate list for my friends. Just tell the hostess you’re my guests and she’ll give you one of our best tables.”
Hunter glances at the card, then tucks it away in his pocket. “Maybe we’ll take you up on that. Thanks.”
Caleb smiles, but it’s carefully measured and maybe a touch wolfish. “Lovely to meet the both of you. I look forward to our paths crossing again.”
I don’t know if his parting words only sound like a threat because I know what he knows, but there’s something about him I just don’t like. I think he’d be as likely to eviscerate someone he calls a friend as someone he calls an enemy, so I’m not confident there’s any benefit to his friendship.
Well, there are probably benefits, but not the kind I would care about.
Once Caleb is gone, I turn to Hunter. “He’s not a good guy.”
Hunter shakes his head in agreement, but he doesn’t look concerned. “It’s all right,” he says, settling his hand around my waist. “That’s done and over with, so you can finally relax and enjoy the rest of the ball.”
“He heard me.”
“I know, but it doesn’t matter. He won’t tell anyone.”
“How do you know?”
Hunter glances down at me, his expression genuinely relaxed and a little fond. “He just told us.”
I frown. “He did?”
“He wants to be my friend. Powerful men keep each other’s secrets. As long as we go to his restaurant tomorrow and he doesn’t think we’re snubbing him, all will be well.”
“But…” I glance back in the direction Caleb went.
Hunter turns my face back to look up at him. “It’s not a big deal, Riley. We’ll need to eat something, anyway.”
Unable to entirely banish my anxiety, I tell Hunter, “I just don’t trust him.”
“You don’t have to trust him. That guy looks out for his own best interests, and it’s in his best interest to keep his mouth shut. It gives him leverage. A guy like that knows that a secret is much more valuable when it’s kept. Trust me, Riley. He’s not going to say anything.”
I’m less confident about it than he is, but I suppose I am the worrier between us.
If Hunter thinks there’s nothing to worry about, he’s probably right.
Chapter Sixty Five
Hunter
After a long night of dancing with Riley and socializing with the New York elite, I’m more than ready to head back to the hotel.
We’re staying so close to the club, we walk. It’s actually much faster. I only brought her here in the limo earlier because I thought it would add to the experience and I wanted to take her around the city first.
Now all I want to do is get her clothes off her and watch the look of rapture on her face as she comes for me.
The door clicks shut. Out room is dark, lit only by the city lights shining in through the window. I don’t bother turning on the lights. Once I’m done fucking her, we’ll want to go to sleep, and I don’t feel like getting back up to turn a light off.
I take off my coat first, then I peel off Riley’s, kissing the exposed skin of her shoulder as I do.
It was cold outside, but her skin is warm beneath the heavy coat. I’m glad I bought it for her. She balked a bit, both because of the fur and the price tag, but all I had to do was remind her of my trump card and she had to let me buy it for her.
She steps out of her heels and kicks them aside. I encircle her waist with one arm, tugging her against me and burying my face in her neck.
Her arm drifts behind my head. She starts to play with my hair as I kiss her neck and reach for the zipper of her dress.
Wordlessly, I take off her pretty gown and lay it across the upholstered bench at the foot of the bed.
“I should probably hang that up so it doesn’t wrinkle,” Riley remarks.
“We’ll get it cleaned when we get home,” I assure her.
She’s down to her black strapless bra and matching lace panties now. I unhook the bra and catch her tits in my hands, palming them and pulling her closer to my body.
Riley sighs with pleasure, her eyes drifting closed.
I let go and slide my hands down her torso, hooking my fingers into the scanty black lace. I’m just about to push them down, but I reconsider, leaving them for a moment longer so I can cup the globes of her ass in my hands, squeezing and caressing her smooth flesh with the lace still on her skin.