He takes both my hands in his and raises them over my head. I’m truly, deliciously caught, like a fly that finally stops struggling in the spider’s web.
I’m Neil’s tonight, whether it’s a good idea or not. It doesn’t matter anymore. Nothing matters, except his kisses and the throbbing pace he sets as he begins to move inside me.
TWENTY-FOUR
I WANT TO SPOIL YOU
Neil
I’ve tried so hard to prove to Charli that I’m not the selfish jerk she thought I was.
But tonight, I’m exactly that guy—the one who can’t even wait to get home before fucking her. The guy who has to have her in the limo, because he’s afraid to let this moment slip through his fingers.
But, God, the way Charli’s body rises to meet mine on every stroke. And the way she’s staring at me with a lust-filled expression, as if I invented pleasure. It could break a man.
Many women have charmed me, but few have challenged me—until this one, with her giant green eyes and her fierce gaze and her strong grip as she breaks free of my hands and tugs me by the hair down to kiss her again.
I pick up the pace, because I can’t help myself. I feel wild, and Charli’s hot kisses do nothing to rein me in. She strains against me, as if reaching for something just beyond her grasp.
“Let go, sweetheart,” I murmur against her lips. “I’ve got you.”
“Neil,” she gasps, as if I’ve said something surprising. Her knees grip my hips, and she sighs with frustration.
“Give in,” I rasp. “I’ll catch you.”
And I want it to be true. I want to make her feel what I’m feeling. I want her to need this as much as I do.
“Neil,” she whispers, and it’s more like a prayer this time.
I slow my roll, nudging her hips with mine, savoring the slide of our sweat-slicked skin. Our gazes lock, and there’s fire behind her eyes.
“I can’t last much longer,” I say between kisses. “You undo me. You always have.”
She gasps again. Her brow softens, and her eyes lose focus. She arches her back on a sigh, and her chest heaves. Then she finally pulses beneath me, sweetly whimpering as her eyes flutter closed, as if she can’t bear to let me watch her come apart.
It’s so beautiful that I can’t look away, and I can’t hold back. With a groan and a curse, I piston my hips and release all the pent-up need I carry around for her. My soul quakes as I kiss her lips. She bites my lip, and it hurts so good.
Then, at last, stillness.
Charli pulls me down with a clumsy tug, and we lay panting on a fur coat as the car accelerates once again.
“Look,” she croaks.
I turn my head to see what she’s seeing. And the lit-up Brooklyn Bridge passes like a dream over our heads.
It’s not easy to regain one’s dignity in the back of a limousine. Charli looks dazed as I gently help her back into her dress and stuff her stockings into my pocket.
“And to think you weren’t sure about borrowing this coat,” I whisper, tucking it around her shoulders, where it will hide all our sins. “You’ll look perfect when we get out of the car, and I’m the one who looks like an animal.”
She gives me a wry smile. “Serves you right.”
The car glides to a stop before I’m ready. I worry that once we’ve arrived, Charli will build a fresh new wall between us.
Inevitably, the driver opens the door. “Thank you, Stoats,” I say calmly while I exit the car without a glance at him.
I lift my chin, wrap an arm around my girl, and walk her toward the doorman and into the building.
“How was your evening?” Marco asks as we pass by.
“Remarkable,” I say with as much dignity a man with a used condom in his pocket can muster.
Charli’s cheeks are scarlet as the elevator doors glide shut. “Well. That party didn’t end the way I planned,” she murmurs.
I’m too smart to gloat. I just pull out my key and kiss her cheek. I let her into the apartment, and, after helping her out of the mink and hanging it in the closet, I bend my knees and scoop her up into my arms.
She lets out a little shriek of surprise. “What are you doing?”
“Taking you with me.” I head for the kitchen.
“Neil!” She squirms in my arms. “What the hell?”
“I have to be careful,” I explain, pacing over to the refrigerator. I open the door and grab a bottle of Coke. “Hold this, please.”
Charli takes the bottle out of my hands. “What’s this for?”
“In case my blood sugar dips during round two. Gotta have some sugar handy.”
“Neil.” She wriggles, so I tote her into the bedroom and drop her onto the bed. “Why are you carrying me around like a caveman?”
“Because.” I toe off my half-untied shoes. “If I leave you alone for too long, you’ll start thinkin’ up all the reasons this is a bad idea, blah blah blah…”
“Well, it is,” she murmurs, removing her heels and setting them carefully on the floor. Then she removes my grandmother’s diamond ring and hands it to me. “I’m not like you. I can’t just decide to be a hedonist.”
“For one night?” I challenge. The ring is heavy in my palm. “I’m not done dazzling you.”
“Oh please, I think you already proved you’re a sexy beast.”
Grinning, I open my bedside table and drop the ring inside. Then I sit down behind Charli, tucking my chin onto her shoulder. “That’s flattering, baby. My ego is satisfied. But this isn’t about me.” My heart thumps as I nuzzle her cheek. “I want to spoil you a little. You deserve it.”
She shivers.
“Put this on.” I rise to grab my bathrobe and hand it to her. “And I’ll show you what I mean.” Then I leave the room.
TWENTY-FIVE
REALLY HIGH PRODUCTION VALUES
Charli
When Neil disappears, I take a long breath. I’m in way over my head. I’ve given in. I’ve done everything I promised myself I’d avoid.
That man ravished me on the backseat of a luxury car, and I encouraged him.
What the hell has come over me?
Carefully, I unzip the blue dress and step out of it. It’s wrinkled from our shenanigans in the limo. But I give it a good shake, and the silk is such high quality that I can tell it’ll be okay.
I wonder if I’ll ever have a reason to wear this dress again. Probably not.
I take good care of it, hanging it carefully in Neil’s closet. I put on the bathrobe he left me, not because it smells tantalizingly of Neil’s aftershave, damn it, but because it’s cozy.
The Tantalizer in Chief emerges from the bathroom a couple minutes later, wearing nothing but boxer shorts and humming to himself as if this is all perfectly normal. He carries his suit over to the closet and hangs it up.
Then he departs again, heading for the kitchen this time. He returns a few minutes later with a tray in his hands. There’s a bowl of grapes and two pink-tinted, iced cocktails with lemon wedges cocked on their rims.