Authors: Emerson Rose
“Oh no problem. I should be thanking you two. You’ve given me an idea for my next book.”
Angel freezes in my arms, and her mouth drops open.
“You’re going to write about . . . us?”
Ruby Bisette’s bright red lips draw up in a beautiful smile, and she nods her head up and down.
“The electricity coming from you two is visible. It’s like New Year's Eve and the Fourth of July in New York over there in that corner, and that’s before he kissed you, honey.”
Angel’s hand flies to her chest, and she gasps. I’ve never seen a woman get so worked up about an author. She must write some seriously hot stuff.
Ruby signs the bottle with a flourish and hands it to the star-struck Angel, who is still standing with her mouth agape. I reach over and, with my finger under her chin, I close her mouth and thank Ruby again. She winks and whispers, “Don’t miss
Player and the Princess
. I think you two are going to love it.”
I nod and turn my fictional princess around and guide her back to our table, where our food is about to be served and our wine glasses have been filled.
I help Angel back into her seat, and when the waiters are gone, I look at her still sitting next to me, star-struck.
“You gonna be okay? I thought you were going to pass out over there.”
She blinks at me as if she’d forgotten I was sitting next to her.
“Holy shit, River, that’s the Ruby Bissette. She’s the hottest erotic romance author in the world, and she’s going to write a book about us!”
She looks around the table and spots her full glass of wine. I watch in surprise as half of it slides down her lovely throat in one swallow.
“Whoa there, Pretty Dancer. I thought you didn’t drink.”
“I don’t, but this is so exciting. Let’s celebrate.”
Her enthusiastic smile lights up the room, and I can think of a million better ways to celebrate being characters in a hot book, but hey, when in Rome.
I raise my glass, and we toast again.
“To
Player and the Princess
,” I say.
She shivers in delight and finishes her second glass of wine.
“How about some food to soak up all that wine?” I say.
“Yes, I’m starving.”
Watching Angel eat is the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen. Twice, butter from her lobster has made its way to her chin, and if it happens again, I’m bound to lick it off for her.
I've barely touched my food. My sister is probably watching somewhere and having a coronary waiting for me to devour every bite, when all I want to do is devour Angel.
“You’re not eating.”
“I’m distracted.”
She sets her tiny lobster fork down and dabs her mouth with her linen napkin.
“You like watching me eat?”
“I do, very much. Would you like more wine?” The bottle is empty. We would have to open her autographed bottle if we were to have any more. She eyes the bottle and then she looks at me, and I know what I have to do.
I raise my hand to a waitress passing by our table.
“Could you bring us another? The lady doesn’t want to pop her Ruby Bissette autographed bottle.”
“Of course. I totally understand.” Another devoted literary smut fan. I’m downloading every book she’s ever written when I get home.
“Are you having fun?”
“Are you kidding? I’m out with you in this beautiful place, eating delicious food, drinking positively perfect wine, and I got to meet Ruby Bissette. This might very well be the best night of my life so far.”
“Thank you for putting me first on your list of best night ever events.”
She closes her eyes and leans back in her chair. For a second, I’m worried she’s going to pass out on me until she reaches out blindly for my hand. I take it and hold it in both of mine in my lap, close to my cock.
“I never have fun, River. My best friend, Cat, says I need to expand my horizons and live a little. She thinks I focus too much on dance and that it's stunting my social growth.”
“But you’re having fun tonight, right?”
“Yes, so much fun.” She startles me when her eyes snap open.
“Let’s go dancing. I don’t want to go home yet. In fact, I don’t ever want to go home. Let’s fly to Europe and visit Jacqueline Marsal.”
If I wasn’t sure before, I’m sure now. Angel is drunk. And the fact that I’m even entertaining the thought of hopping a plane for London says that I’m not far behind her.
The waitress arrives with our new bottle already open, and against what would be my better judgment if I were sober, I allow her to pour us two more glasses. I’m a self-admitted lightweight, and I’m buzzing. I need to be responsible and stop, but the waves of euphoria flowing off Angel are contagious.
She makes me feel good. I think she makes everybody feel good. Her easygoing manner and her alluring beauty put people in a good mood. She even has Kyle enjoying her dance class, and he was initially so pissed about going that he kicked over a trashcan outside the studio.
“I think we may be a little drunk, Pretty Dancer.”
“Why, because I’m having fun?”
“Well, you did tell me you never have fun and you never drink, and we happen to be doing a lot of both.”
Her adorable bottom lip juts out, and a groove forms between her brows as she considers our predicament.
“I don’t think I care. I deserve to have fun once in a while. Cat’s right.” She picks up her glass and chugs the expensive wine like a five-dollar beer. God, I’m glad she ate a lot. She can’t weigh more than a buck twenty. I’m sure she would be passing out before we hit the door on an empty stomach.
“You gonna eat that?” she says and points at my untouched salmon.
I spear a bite and hold it up to her mouth and watch it disappear between her luscious lips.
“I’m going to maul you if I have to keep watching you eat.”
“I might like being mauled.”
I inhale a deep breath and blow it out slowly, trying to calm the storm going on inside my body. We are treading in dangerous water. I had no plans to bed this woman on our first date. She’s too classy for that, and I have genuine feelings for her, but at this rate, we aren’t going to make it out of the building.
“Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
The joyous expression on her face falls.
“I need to tell my sister something real quick. Have another bite of my salmon. I’ll be right back, I promise.”
“Okay.”
I’m making my way through the kitchen toward Olivia’s office when I feel a tap on my shoulder from behind.
“Looking for someone, little brother?”
I turn around, and she is dangling a set of keys in front of my face.
“What’s this?”
“The keys to my place. There’s a car waiting out front for you two.”
“What? Why?”
“You two are polishing off your second bottle of wine. That stuff costs fifteen hundred dollars a bottle. It's not weak. You’re not driving anywhere. And the way you two look at each other like you’ve never seen a member of the opposite sex leads me to believe you might need a nice big bed tonight. I just so happen to have one that won’t be occupied tonight.”
“Where are you going? Where are Allen and the kids?”
“They went to visit his parents on the farm. I’m flying out as soon as we close, so you’ll have the whole place to yourselves. Knock yourself out, but don’t make it obvious. I don’t want Allen to think I was messing around on him when we come home.”
I take the keys and hold her by the shoulders to plant a big, fat kiss on her forehead.
“You’re my favorite sister. You know that, right?”
She laughs. “That’s just because I’m giving you a ride and a place to get laid tonight.”
“Seems like favorite sister material to me.”
“Okay, okay, enough with the mushy crap. Get your girl and go have some fun.”
“Thanks, you’re the best.”
“I know.”
When I arrive back at our table, Angel is MIA, but I have a feeling she won’t be hard to find.
I scan the bar and find my Pretty Dancer propped on a stool, leaning against the infamous Ruby Bissette.
When I approach the two women from behind, they erupt into fits of laughter, and I make it in time to catch Angel before she hits the floor.
“Whoa, you two are having a little too much fun,” I say and scoop Angel into my arms.
“You won’t mind if I steal her, will you?”
“Certainly not. Here, don’t forget this,” she says and hands me Angel’s autographed bottle. “And don’t do anything my characters wouldn’t do,” she says with a mischievous wink.
“I don’t think that’s putting too many restrictions on us, is it?” I ask.
“Nope, take me away!” Angel sings. She waves her arm away from her body in the general direction of the main entrance.
I turn with my featherweight dancer in my arms and stride toward the front doors, through a crowd of onlookers who are still waiting for a table, and into the back of a Mercedes SUV.
“Where’d this come from?” she says, sinking into the seat and smoothing her hands over the leather.
“My sister thought we could use a lift. She’s going to Iowa tonight. She doesn’t have time to come to the hospital if we get into an accident.”
“I love your sister,” she says with a slur.
I pull her to my side, and she snuggles in, wrapping her arms around my waist. The driver pulls away from the curb, already knowing his destination. A few camera flashes go off as we pull away, and Angel raises her head to see where the lights are coming from.
“Is it going to storm?”
“No, it’s the paparazzi. We probably should have gone out the back.
“Paparazzi . . . do they follow you everywhere?” she says, wiggling around to crawl in my lap.
“If I’m doing something interesting, they do.”
“Am I interesting?” she asks.
“You are to me. Am I doing you?” I ask. Please let her say yes.
“I think you’re interesting too, and yes, I believe we should do each other.”
She rests her head on my shoulder and giggles. I’m not a bad man for wanting this. She is a grown woman who can make her own decisions. I’m not a manwhore for sleeping with her on the first date.
Who am I kidding? If I sleep with her tonight, it’s taking advantage of a drunk woman. No, I’m not doing it . . . oh, Lord, she’s kissing my neck, and she’s unbuttoning the top button of my shirt and sliding her hand inside.
“Okay, frisky lady, let’s settle down a little,” I say, removing her hand from my neck. It kills me to do it, but I don’t want her to hate me tomorrow.
She pushes off my chest with her elbow and wobbles there for a second until she has her bearings. Her hooded eyes travel down my chest to ground zero and back up to my lips. Her tongue slides out of her mouth, and she pulls her plump bottom lip between her teeth. Then I watch as she slides her curve-hugging dress up and swings one leg over mine to straddle my hips.
“I like you, River Kelly. See, I even remember your name.”
She places her hands on either side of my face, caressing my cheeks with her thumbs.
“You’re not going to deny me a little fun for the first time in years, are you?”
Years. She just said it has been years since she’s had ‘a little fun’, which I am interpreting to be sex. She said she hadn’t dated in years, but I assumed she was hooking up here and there. Good God, she must have been hiding herself away well. She’s irresistible. No man could deny her.
Especially not me, right here, right now.
“I don’t want you to regret it tomorrow. I sort of like you too.”
Her lip juts out in a tiny pout.
“What’s the matter?” I ask, tapping my finger on her sexy lip.
“You didn’t call me Pretty Dancer.”
“Ah, forgive me, Pretty Dancer.” A satisfied smile spreads across her face as I slide my hands up her bare thighs and scoot her closer until she’s positioned directly over my cock. She moans, and I cover her mouth, drowning out the sound with a kiss.
The driver hears and glances at us in the rearview mirror. His eyes jerk back to the road when he realizes I’ve caught him looking, but I don’t stop kissing her. I can’t.
I close my eyes and mold my body to hers, sitting up for maximum contact. With one hand under her round ass, I hold her against me. My other hand is on the back of her head, fingers wound in her silky hair as I kiss her more passionately than I have thus far.
She makes me drunk in an entirely different way than the alcohol. JT’s song,
Love Drunk
, pops in my head, and I smile against her mouth.
“You’re smiling.”
“You make me happy,” I say.
“I’m about to make us both happy,” she says, sliding her hand between my legs to find my stone hard cock waiting for her.
“Very happy.”
Chapter Thirteen
Angel
This cannot be happening. I am not straddling the famous River Kelly in the back seat of a Mercedes after having a gourmet seafood dinner and two bottles of wine with him. I didn’t just have my picture taken by the paparazzi, and no way in hell did I meet and get an autograph from Ruby Bissette!
But it is happening. I’ve had enough to drink to toss my inhibitions aside, and for once in my life, I’m going with the flow.
I can’t believe River is trying to rein me in. He’s been pulling out every stop all night, and now that I’m willing to give in to everything, he’s decided to be a gentleman.
Over my dead body. I don’t know where we’re going, but wherever it is, there had better be a bed and a shower because this girl is about to break the longest dry spell in the history of mankind. A dry spell worthy of a river, and I just happen to have one underneath me right now, primed and ready to go.
“Where are we going?” I ask with our mouths still touching.
He pulls away to answer. “My sister’s house. She’s going out of town to meet up with her husband and kids. We will have the whole house to ourselves. She has an enormous hot tub and pool.”
He says it like he’s trying to convince me to go, and there’s no need. I’m more than willing to follow him anywhere.
“Is there a bed?”
“Yes, they’re pretty modern people. They don’t sleep on the floor.”
“Is it big?”
“The bed?”
“Yes, silly, what else?” I say.
He thrusts his hips upward, connecting his length with my core, and raises his brows high, and I laugh.
“Okay, okay, I surrender to the king’s sword!” I yell. I collapse against his chest and bury my face in his neck while fits of laughter rack my body.
“You’re out of control, but I think I like it.” He digs his long fingers into my ribs and tickles me silly until I can’t breathe. Why have I been avoiding this for so long? I love being carefree and silly. I’d almost forgotten how much.
The car turns, and I hold onto River’s shoulders so I don’t go rolling across the back seat.
“We’re here.”
The car stops in the circle drive of a house fit for a billionaire. River slides me off his lap and opens the door, reaching back to help me out. It feels good to stretch my legs after being cramped up in the back seat.
“Wow, Poppy’s must be doing well to afford this swanky house.”
“It is, but her husband is an investment banker and my sister-in-law is a very successful real estate agent. You can’t go wrong with that combination.”
He leans down and says something to the driver before closing the door. He takes my arm and leads me up a steep set of stairs to a set of wrought iron doors that a giant could comfortably fit through.
I watch him slide a key in the lock and swing one of the heavy doors open for me to pass. Inside, it’s dark, and the light scents of vanilla and spice hang in the air.
River closes the door and presses a series of numbers into a security system box. When he turns toward me, I can only see an outline of him in the dark, but he still makes me shiver. The alcohol is wearing off, and the significance of my decision to spend the night with a man I’ve only known for two days begins to settle in.
That is, until he takes my hand and leads me through the foyer to the back yard. His touch relieves my uneasiness, and I realize that my inhibitions are still absent even though my buzz is wearing off.
Outside, the Olympic-sized pool glows in the dark and the scent of chlorine invades my nose, taking me back to the summer days I spent lounging around my parents’ pool. Back when they still had hopes of me becoming a doctor.
Just beyond the pool is the enormous Hot Tub River spoke of.
“You weren’t kidding. That’s a huge hot tub. I’ve never seen one that size before.”
“That’s because originally, it was the pool until Allen had this monster put in. His daughter, Courtney, is an amazing diver and swimmer. They hope she’ll be in the Olympics someday.”
“You have some talented genes in your family, huh?”
“No more than you.”
We continue to walk around the giant pool toward the pool-sized hot tub.
“There are suits in the pool house if you want, or we could just . . .”
He nods his head toward the dimly lit water.
“Let’s just do it. Nobody's around, right?”
“No,” he says with a chuckle.
“No security cameras?”
“I’m pretty sure Allen wouldn’t have left the house on vacation without turning on the security cameras.”
I purse my lips together and fiddle with my bracelet while I consider the risks of being caught naked on camera.
“Maybe you could shield me while I slip in?”
“No problem. Come on.”
He leads me to a chair near the pool and gestures for me to sit. When I do, he kneels down in front of me, and I imagine him kneeling down to ask me to marry him.
It’s just a fantasy. I know it’ll never happen, but a girl can dream.
He takes my foot into his big hands and slips my shoe from my foot. I’m not crazy about people seeing my feet, let alone touching them, but I’ve been breaking rules all night. Why stop now?
With his eyes on my foot, he massages it, and I involuntarily flop back in the expensive lawn chair and moan.
“God, that feels so good. Sorry about the calluses.”
“Hush, you have beautiful feet. These feet are loaded with a talent that will make you famous someday soon.”
The other shoe slides off, and I close my eyes while he presses his thumb into the high arch of my overworked foot. If he keeps doing this, I may come before we ever get our clothes off—it feels that good.
Then I feel his warm lips on the top of my foot. He’s kissing my foot, and now, my calf and my knee. His hands glide up the outside of my thighs and inside my dress. He lays his head in my lap and inhales deeply.
“My God, you smell so fucking good.”
I move my hands to the arms of the chair and suck in a breath, causing his head to lower into my concave belly.
He lifts his head and fixes me with a hypnotizing stare.
“Are you sure?” he asks, and I nod my head fractionally.
His hands move from the outside of my thighs to the inside, and he spreads my legs as far as my dress will allow, but that’s not far enough.
“Lift,” he says, and I lift my hips while he slides the dress up around my waist, exposing my skin to the warm night air. He continues to hover over me, shielding me in case there are cameras pointed at the hot tub, and for that, I am grateful.
His gaze travels from my flat, quivering belly to my smooth, bare mound, and he closes his eyes on a moan that sets me on fire between my legs.
“Relax, baby, let go and relax.” He drags out that last relax, and his words trail off until I have loosened my death grip on the chair and threaded my fingers through his thick, wavy dark hair.
His hands explore my belly, and his lips dip down to kiss my navel. I gasp, and tension seizes my muscles until he begins to repeat the relax mantra. I slowly melt under his touch.
His kisses become more urgent as his hands slide down my thighs and hook behind my knees. I close my eyes and feel him spread my legs wide. The air hitting my exposed wet core is exhilarating, and the warm puffs of his breath tell me he is almost close enough to taste me.
He slides my legs over his shoulders and covers my wet mound with his mouth. Long, luxurious laps of his tongue cause me to shudder and squirm. I clutch his hair and greedily push him against me until he reaches around my legs and places my hands on the arms of the chair.
“Keep your hands here. I’ll lead, you follow, okay? Trust me. I’ll make you come over and over, Pretty Dancer, but you have to let me be the boss.”
I nod eagerly and hold onto the arms of the chair as he said. Nobody has ever promised me multiple orgasms, and nobody has ever told me they were the boss. It’s liberating to know he has all of the control. All I have to do is follow his lead and trust him, and he will reward me with a pleasure overload.
“Good girl. There’s just one more thing. Don’t close your eyes. I want you to remember every second of this night, understand?”
“Yes, eyes open, relax, and remember.”
“Perfect.”
He kisses the insides of my thighs and returns to pleasing me, but this time, I know the rules. With open eyes and Jell-O legs, I watch this man go to work at giving me my first mind blowing orgasm in I don’t even know how many years.
No matter how hard I try, I can’t keep from squirming, but he holds me securely in place as my orgasm builds and builds until I can’t hold on anymore. He traces figure-eights around and over my clit and explores places no man's mouth has ever explored before until my eyes roll back in my head.
A strangled gasp is the only sound coming from my mouth—no yelling or screaming his name, just breathless silence until my body starts to regain control of its muscles.
He rests his cheek against my thigh, and I look into his smiling eyes.
“See, it’s good to let go and have fun once in a while, isn’t it?”
“Oh my God, you have no idea how good.”
He winks and pats my legs. “Nope, not yet, but soon. I say we skip the hot tub and go mess up my sister’s bed.”
“Hot tub later?” I ask, and he nods his head up and down.
“Definitely. Your muscles are going to need those jets when I’m through with you.”
I don’t mention that my muscles can take a lot of abuse. I’m curious to find out just how hard he plans on working me. I may not need to practice tomorrow, after all. It sounds like I’m in for a pretty intense workout tonight.