Debauched (Undone Book 3) (25 page)

Ruby

I literally have no idea how I’m holding it together as I clutch Chad’s hand and walk across the restaurant to where a group of people are seated around a large table. There’s an older man and woman, both attractive who are clearly his parents. Even from across the room I see the resemblance between Chad and his dad.

I also see two guys.

All four of them are staring at me.

I squeeze Chad’s hand tighter and he squeezes back. “Just breathe, girl. You’re going to be fine.”

My emotions are a mess. My body is a mess. Instead of the appropriate meeting-the-parents things I should stress about, all I can think is that I must smell like sex. How can I not? My thighs are slippery wet. I’ve been fucked within an inch of my life. And he did that…that…that…thing to my ass that screwed with my head and made me want it.

That doesn’t even take into account the cab ride over. He played with me the whole way, while carrying on a completely innocent conversation with the driver, who had to know what Chad was doing because I couldn’t stop gasping and shifting and moaning. The driver kept looking at me in the mirror but Chad just kept on talking.

To my horror and shock, I almost came.

It was the only time he spoke to me. Right when I was on the very edge and one hard press of his fingers would push me over, he lightens his touch, turned and whispered in my ear, “No coming for you.” Then went back to talking about the Cubs third baseman or something like that.

I honestly don’t remember. Are third basemen a topic of conversation?

I’d spent the rest of the ride over in some sort of suspended state of tingling mess one step away from orgasm. Instead of the situation shocking me and pulling me back to sanity, I just kept getting hotter and hotter until I wasn’t thinking about anything else. On the other hand, Chad acted like it was completely normal to have a needy, half-crazed, desperate woman writhing next to him while he carried on an innocuous conversation.

All of this swirls in my head, consuming me and suddenly I’m at the table, standing in front of them. They all rise to greet us and Chad releases his hold on my hand and slips his palm to my waist. “Hey, sorry we’re late. Mom, Dad, I’d like you to meet, Ruby. Ruby, these are my parents, David and Alice, and my brothers, Cameron and Christopher.” He kind of pushes me forward and like I’m watching someone else from a distance I’m holding out my hand.

I smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Thank god my voice is completely calm.

His mom grasps my palm and beams at me. “My, my you certainly are lovely.”

“Thank you.”
Your son is the devil and he won’t stop torturing me.

His father takes me in, nods at Chad, I think in approval. “Well done.”

Chad laughs and shakes his head, giving my hip a little squeeze.

Cameron, Chad’s oldest brother is dressed in a pair of gray pants and a white button-down, not unlike things I’ve seen Chad wear. They look remarkably alike, except Cameron’s eyes are a dark brown. A smile on his face, his gaze flickers discretely, and in a second he’s roamed my entire body before he meets my eyes and says to me in a voice as smooth as whiskey, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ruby.”

He’s not what I expected. I always think of doctors as older, stately and comfortable. And, well, I kind of picture doctors as bald—probably because my pediatrician growing up was bald. Cameron Fellow’s is none of those things. In fact, he’s hot; if a doctor walked into an exam room looking like that, I’d run. He has the same penetrating stare Chad does, and I’d bet my last dollar he’s a player. I nod. “Thank you, you too.”

The youngest brother, Christopher grins at me, all charming and affable. Chad told me he’s twenty-seven and in his residency. He’s cute, with messy butterscotch-colored hair and light brown eyes, he favors his mom. He gives me a boyish grin, chuckles and gestures to the table. “Hey, Ruby. No pressure here at all, is there?”

I laugh, and some of my tension abates. “Nope. None at all.”

We sit down. I put my napkin on my lap, and suddenly it occurs to me wearing a white dress is completely stupid. What if I spill something?

There’s some chitchat around the table, and a waiter comes over. Chad’s dad orders two bottles of wine—red wine—before everyone settles. I cast a glance to the ceiling.
Please dear God, don’t let me get wine on this dress.

Chad’s mom is very put together and sophisticated, with her sleek chin-length bob the same color as her youngest son’s. Chad shares her blue eyes. She’s wearing a business suit, classically cut, that fits her trim figure like it was made for her. She’s the kind of woman I’d expect to be cold and remote, but when she smiles at me her face is warm and open. “We’re happy you could join us, Ruby. Chad never brings anyone to dinner.”

I attempt to ignore the flash of pleasure that statement brings me. “Thank you for having me.”

“Chad tells us you’re a singer?” David Fellows asks, steepling his hands.

I shake my head. “Hardly. I sing a couple times a week at a place by my apartment. For my regular job I’m a graphic designer at a small ad agency.”

“Interesting.” He nods, he has the same dark eyes as Cameron and they are quite penetrating. I wonder if he wishes I was a doctor.

“Our whole family is musically challenged,” Alice says. To my surprise, her expression turns a bit amused and pouty. “I’ve always been jealous of people who can sing. Did you train in the musical arts?”

I laugh. “No, nothing like that. I discovered my love of singing in the good old-fashioned church choir.” It was the only time I enjoyed the endless hours of church I was forced to attend growing up. The only time I ever felt peaceful under the watchful eye of God.

Chad’s arm is on the back of my chair and I can feel his eyes on me. The questions there.

David nods. “A churchgoing girl.”

I say simply, “My father is a minister.”

Chad knows this is an uncomfortable subject for me so, of course, he steps in. “Ruby’s family lives in southern Indiana.”

“Very good,” David says, as though I passed a test.

I bite my lip. I want to pass their test. It’s something I’ve never cared about. Rocker boys don’t bring home girls to their parents, it ruins their mystique. If you asked me six months ago, I’d swear I wanted no part of this, but here I am, wearing a dress that’s not mine, meeting an employed, conservative, nice guy’s parents. And I care.

I shoot a sidelong glance in Chad’s direction. The truth dawns on me. Chad’s not actually conservative. That’s the story I keep trying to sell myself in hopes of keeping him at a distance, but it’s not true. I mean, sure on the surface he’s the all-American guy next door I assumed him to be the first time I met him, but he’s nothing like any man I’ve ever met.

He is both angel and devil. Good and evil. Saint and sinner.

Alice’s voice rips me from my thoughts. “And why were you late, young man?”

I tense, and I will my body not to flush. Chad puts his hand on the back of my chair, and his fingers brush over my shoulder. “I had an inspector come late.”

Alice’s face clears. “Ah, understandable.” She picks up her menu. “What shall we start with this evening?”

That’s everyone’s cue to pick up their menus. I relax and adjust in my seat, biting my lip at the slick of my skin when I move. I let out a tiny gasp, recover, only to catch Chad’s oldest brother’s gaze. I try not to blush when he winks at me, before saying to Chad, “I do hate when that happens.”

Chad’s hand skims intimately, suggestively over the curve of my neck. On the surface, it’s an innocent touch, but Cameron’s smirk makes it seem sexual.

I cross my legs, once again calling attention to my current state. Heat flares through me. Oh god, no.

Chad’s thumb presses against my pounding pulse and he says in a low voice, “Do you blame me?”

Cameron’s gaze flickers to my mouth, which now feels impossibly swollen. “No, I don’t.”

“Some things can’t be helped, as you well know.” Chad’s tone is wicked.

I grip my menu as my nipples pucker impossibly tight.

“I do.” Cameron tips his head. “I hope the visit was satisfying.”

Chad’s still rubbing over my neck in slow, methodical circles. “Very.”

Cameron meets my eyes again. “Good.”

What in God’s name is going on? They are deviants. I glance around the table, but none of the rest of the family seems to notice this exchange.

I shift restlessly in my chair and the press of my thighs rubs against my needy flesh, reminding me all over again of my craziness in the cab. My stomach jumps, heats.

Chad’s fingers curl around my neck and Cameron’s attention tracks the movement.

Without saying it, Chad has clearly communicated the exact reason we are late. And Cameron isn’t hiding his appreciation. A month ago this would have horrified me, but because Chad’s done…something to my brain, lust rushes through my body at warp speed.

He’s
corrupted
me.

I give him a little glare, silently ordering him to behave.

Instead he gives my throat a squeeze, leans over, and whispers in my ear, “He knows I fucked you.”

I suck in my breath and my gaze flies to Cameron, who’s watching us instead of paying attention to the menu like everyone else. He smiles, and runs his fingers the length of the wineglass.

I look down at my menu and dig my heel into Chad’s foot under the table.

He laughs and moves his foot out of reach, but still speaks into my ear. “Every time I put my hands on you under the table you’re going to wonder if he knows what I’m doing. And the answer is, yes, he will.”

“This is perverse,” I say in a barely audible hiss.

“Yeah, it is.”

He’s so…so… Wicked. I scowl and whisper, “Why are you doing this to me?”

“You know why.”

Understanding rushes over me like a freight train and everything seems to click into place. Suddenly, I remember Layla’s words this afternoon, and her true meaning finally sinks in. A million seemingly unrelated threads coalesce and soul-deep knowledge practically explodes through me. It sinks into my bones, makes my heart pound, and my palms sweat. I understand, for perhaps the very first time in my entire life. Chad’s words from this afternoon come back to me,
this, right here, is who you really are.

This isn’t something he’s
doing
to me at all.

There’s one reason and one reason only why he’s doing it.

Because I like it.

Chad

We’re riding in the back of a cab from dinner with my family to Brandon’s club and I’m trying to give Ruby some time to process instead of attacking her the way I want to. When I’d teased her in front of Cameron I’d seen something shift in her eyes. It had been written in the widening of her expression, the intake of her breath, the tightening of her muscles under my hands. Only because of our surroundings I hadn’t been able to ask her what it was, and that, combined with the fact that we were at dinner with my parents and I wanted her to be able to form a coherent sentence, I took it easy on her.

But every time I slid my fingers up her thighs she’d been wet. Very wet.

Right now she looked out the window, seeming lost in thought.

I squeezed her knee. “You survived.”

“I did.” She shifts a little. “Your family is nice.”

“They are.” I slide my hand up her leg. “When you went to the bathroom my mom gave you a huge seal of approval. They loved you.”

“I’m glad. I liked them too.”

“Do you want to talk about whatever is on your mind?” I prompt her. She’s reflective. Not angry or upset, but thoughtful.

She clears her throat. “Do you think I’m changing for you?”

Individuality. Lack of conformity is important to Ruby. Having grown up in such a rigid household where there was only one narrow line to follow made an impression. I make it a practice to answer Ruby directly, but I find I want to push a little bit and go with my gut. “Do you think you’re changing for me?”

“Yes.” Her fingers tighten on her purse.

She is, the question is if she’s becoming more of who she really is. “Is that a bad thing?”