Indulgence (39 page)

“Is that who I think it is?” Hank whispered in my ear.

“Yes.”

“Whoa, Nelly. When you said a bunch of fancy-dancy folks
were going to be here tonight, I hadn’t expected one of our past presidents. I
can’t wait to meet him!”

His joy made me smile. We approached my mother and Father,
Dean and Oliver right on our heels. Hank immediately took my mother’s hands and
kissed her knuckles then shook my father’s hand.

“Evenin’, Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds.”

“Mr. Jensen, it’s an honor to meet the man that saved my
darling Pen. I owe you a great deal,” my father addressed Hank, smiling wide.
My mother was an evil she-bitch, but I adored my father. He was the one person
aside from London and Oliver who told me to reach for the stars and pursue my
dreams.

“Hello, Daddy.” I kissed his cheek and he hugged me tightly.
I turned to my mother. “Mother.” My mother gave me her standard double
air-kiss. I tamped down the desire to make a jab at her.

We moved out of the line of guests and stood off to the side
to wait for Dean and Oliver. I wanted Hank to feel comfortable tonight, so I’d
made Oliver swear to stay close. Even if they weren’t the best of friends, at
least Hank knew him and Ollie knew everyone. Though it didn’t look like it
would matter one way or the other with the way Dean and Hank were carrying on
as if they were long-lost brothers.

They’d moved from firefighting to sports teams and betting
on who would make the playoffs this year. Of course Dean was on the side of the
New York Giants, and Hank was a firm believer in the Dallas Cowboys.

We found a table out in the garden next to the pool where
the four of us could sit; two chairs were left open. Large Japanese lanterns
were hanging from invisible wires over the entire area. Twinkling candles sat
on the tables next to a beautiful display of hydrangeas. The pool had floating
lily pads with candles in the centers. Each of the trees were circled with
twinkling white lights.

The entire theme was ethereal. Soft orchestral music played
from a small quartet off to the side of the yard. Mother was a perfect party
planner. No detail was left undone. Maybe if I paid her a huge compliment, let
her plan an event for me, she’d lay off the marriage talk. It could work, but
it was doubtful.

Ever since Grant and I broke up she’d been hounding me to
get back with him. According to her, he was the perfect man—regardless of the
fact that he’d cheated on me … twice! She believed cheating was to be expected
from a man of his pedigree. I disagreed with her and that’s been at the crux of
our dysfunctional relationship ever since.

We sat and enjoyed comfortable conversation before Hank and
Dean took off to get us drinks from the bar.

“Oh, Princess, our princes are besties. Isn’t this great?” I
couldn’t help but get caught up in his happiness.

“I know, Ollie. But what if mine turns out to be a frog?”

Oliver’s face snapped back to attention, his eyes squinting.
“What do you mean? I thought you and Hank were getting along great. From what I
saw in the bedroom a couple weeks ago he seemed to satisfy those needs.”

“Yes. He’s incredible in the bedroom.” I thought back to the
other day when he surprised me in my dressing closet by sliding his cock into
me from behind. We left quite a mess in the closet, clothes strewn everywhere.
I almost felt bad for the maid. “Oh, Oliver. I just don’t know where this thing
with him is going. We’re so different. Just because we’re compatible physically
doesn’t mean we’re right for each other.”

“Why not? I don’t understand. He looks at you like the
entire world just stopped because you were in his line of vision. That cowboy
is falling for you, Princess. I know it like I know my labels. You
know
I know my labels!”

“I just don’t see how it could really work in the long run.
He lives in Texas. I live in New York.”

“So he moves here or you move to Texas. Oh, no, that would mean
I’d have to move to Texas. I don’t know if my hair could handle that heat!” He
patted his perfectly coiffed hair to make sure even mentioning it didn’t mess
it up.

“Stop being a drama queen. I’m not moving to Texas.”

“You don’t think you’re moving to Texas. You don’t know what
the future holds, Pen. Just let the coming weeks happen. I’ve never seen you
happier. Enjoy being with Hank. He seems to enjoy the hell out of you.”

“Who enjoys the hell out of you, Angel?” I set the white
wine in front of her. It amazed me how quickly I picked up and socked away
information about her likes and dislikes. In previous relationships, those
details just didn’t matter to me. With Aspen, I wanted to know everything about
her. Dean handed me the small plate of food and I set that down in between us
to share.

“You, Stud.” That sparkle in her eyes when she’d said it
made me want to bow at her pretty feet.

“Well, ain’t that the truth.” I leaned over and pecked her
on the lips. She gripped my neck and pressed our lips together harder. Just
when I was starting to get into it, she pulled away, looking shy.

Everyone at the table laughed. So far the party had been
great. I’d met the ex-President of the United States, and a few other
muckety-mucks. Also, I enjoyed talking with Dean. He was nothing like his
prissy boyfriend. He was cool. I liked the fella a great deal. Could see myself
watching the games with him on occasion in Aspen’s TV room. Maybe we could even
go to a live game. I briefly wondered if Aspen liked sports.

“Hey Darlin’, you like sports?” She cringed. That pretty
much gave me my answer.

“Pen! I can’t believe you’re here!” London yelled as she ran
over. A lanky fella smoothly followed in her wake. London threw her arms around
her sister. Aspen smiled brightly. I loved seeing that smile on her face.
Looked like whatever disagreement they’d had back at the house a couple weeks
ago had come and gone.

“London, Tripp, I’m surprised you’re here! Don’t you have a
client?” she asked as she hugged her sister back.

“Yes. But this one’s a couple! So I’m actually free to do
what I want on the weekends unless I tag along with them. The wife wasn’t too
pleased with my unconventional methods. She’s the jealous type. Can’t blame her
though. Her hubs is a hottie!” she squealed. I made a mental note to ask Aspen
more about her sister’s job.

Aspen hugged the tall man. I gripped my hands into fists as
the man squeezed her with too much familiarity. “Tripp, I want you to meet
Hank.” She put her pretty hand on my shoulder and glided it down my good arm.
The movement sent chills through me.

God, just a small touch and she had me almost painfully
hard. It didn’t help that we hadn’t made love today. I wanted to fuck her into
next week, the longing for her soft body so strong.

“Hank, this is Tripp Devereaux. He’s London’s best friend
and assistant.”
The one she beds on occasion
, I thought.

“Some of the time, beautiful. Only when she needs the help.
Which has been more often with business booming.”

Beautiful?
The ease with which he said the nickname sent
prickles of jealousy up my spine.

Tripp held out his hand. “Good to meet you, Hank. I
understand you’re the man that saved our Pen’s life. Thank you for that. I
couldn’t imagine dealing with Bridge if anything had happened to her sister.”

Our Pen?
I shook the man’s hand making sure to
squeeze it harder than someone would who’s being polite. Tripp’s eyes squinted
at the gesture. Message received. Good.

“Bridge? Who’s that? Your wife?”

“Wife?” The man laughed a full-bellied laugh that caught on
to the rest of the group. “No, big guy. Bridge is what I call London. You know,
kind of like “London Bridge Is Falling Down.” You see?”

“Uh, sure. Okay.” To each his own.

The two newcomers joined the group and the drinking started
in earnest. I hadn’t had so much as a sip of alcohol since my accident, so by
the time I’d had three beers, in a glass no less, I was feeling pretty good.

“Hey Stud, this is fun. You’re fun,” a tipsy Aspen slurred.

“I’m feeling mighty fine myself, Angel.” I laid a beer-laced
kiss on her lips. She hummed in appreciation and smacked her chops.

“I love how he calls her Angel. Isn’t that so sweet?” London
spoke to the group. She leaned on the table, face in her hand, as Tripp rubbed
a hand up and down her back. I hadn’t figured them out yet. They were
close—really close. But then again, so were Oliver and Aspen, but they were not
sexual in any way. Tripp and London, on the other hand, seemed very familiar
with one another. “Why do you call her Angel, Hank?” London asked.

Aspen looked over at me, a huge smile on her beautiful face.
“Because when daggers were raining from the sky, she was there. All golden and
white and keepin’ me centered.”

There was a collective “aww” from everyone at the table.
Everyone except Aspen. She had her perfect little pink bottom lip snared
between her teeth. I knew that face. That look could bring a team of football
players to their knees in an instant. She was turned on. Fuck me, she looked
good enough to eat too.

“Hank, will you escort me to the restroom, please? Tall
heels and all?” I looked down at her heels. They were very sparkly and high.
Connected to the best set of gams I’d ever seen, too.

“Of course, Darlin’. Lead the way.” I’d follow her to the
ends of the earth if her ass was my view.

On the way to the washroom Aspen was stopped at least a
dozen times. Everyone seemed to want a piece of her. Hell, I wanted a piece of
her. We made it to our destination and I was about to turn around and get
settled against the wall when she tugged my tie and pulled me into the room
with her.

Her lips covered mine the second she pushed me against the
door. I was bathed in the smell of vanilla and honey, good enough to eat. At
this moment I was starved.

“Hank, I want you. Now.” Her lips singed mine they were so
hot, slick and delicious. Our tongues tangled in deep strokes. The wine she was
drinking earlier awakened my taste buds with hints of cherry, plum and my
angel. She pulled away and her slippery little tongue licked a trail from my
ear, down my neck, and back up again. Fuck, the woman knew how to twist me up
into knots.

I shoved my hands into her hair, diamond pins flying
everywhere, letting her hair fall in curling waves over the softest bare
shoulders. “Christ! You’re perfect.” And she was. Every facet of her blew me
away. The way her body arched toward mine as if she couldn’t control it. How
her breasts heaved waiting for me to handle them. The absolute heaven between
her thighs that wept for my touch. These things combined had me spinning with
want and need.

Her nimble fingers pulled and plucked at my belt. I heard
the telltale signs of my zipper going down in the all-too-quiet room. I slapped
the switches near my hand. The fan whirred to life, helping to mask some of the
sound. My angel was not a quiet woman in the sack. I ate up every sound she
made, but I didn’t think the rest of the party would want to hear
her—especially not her mother.

“Hank, I need you to fuck me. Right here, right now.”

A low growl exited my throat as I pulled up her dress and
she freed my cock. She was wearing those fucking black stockings again. I
slipped my fingers in the tiny scrap of fabric at her hips. They shredded
against my onslaught in seconds.

She groaned as I tucked them into my pocket and walked her
backward over to the sink. Her mouth hung onto my neck like a leech. When her
ass butted against the counter, she lifted herself up on the edge. I would have
loved nothing more than to pin her against the door and fuck her, but my
shoulder was not up to the task of holding her weight … yet.

Soon I’d be wall-banging her. With little finesse I yanked
her thighs wide apart to accommodate my body between them. She was dripping
wet. Soaked. Her juices coated my fingers.

As I slipped two fingers into her channel, her tongue
trailed along the part of my chest she’d exposed. When she had undone the
buttons of my shirt was lost on me. All I could focus on was her wet heat, her
scent like warm honey on a summer’s day. She was so damned hot for me. Her lips
down low coated my hand, ready to accept me.

“Oh, Angel, so eager for my cock.”

She nodded against my throat, teeth piercing my skin. I’m
sure she’d just marked me. “Ah, fuck!” I lined up my cock, pulled on her ass,
and rammed into her in one hard thrust.

“Oh God!” I tried to drown out the sound by kissing her. She
was too wild. “Harder, Hank. Please. Fuck me, hard.” She bit the tender
cartilage of my ear and I pounded into her. My thrusts were relentless in
rhythm; I had her begging and pleading to God. She held onto me so tight I
wasn’t sure I could breathe, so caught up in all that was her.

The way her body smelled and tasted, the pull and clench of
her pussy around my cock, the heated breath against my neck. The woman was my
kryptonite.

When we were connected physically, she owned me body and
soul. I couldn’t get close enough. Twisting my hips, I pinned her clit between
us, grinding against her. Her inner walls clamped down like a fist around my
cock, shooting pleasure through the thick staff between my thighs.

She was going over the edge. I wanted more. “More, Angel.
Always more. Give me everything.”

I bit at her lips, pushed down the top of her strapless
dress her bra with it and pinched her rosy nipples, tugging them into tight
aching little points. She liked it a little rough. I sucked on her right breast
and plunged my hand down between our bodies. It was intoxicating to feel myself
pushing in and out of her wet heat.

I felt like I was ripping her apart. Hell, she was ripping
me
apart.

She bit into the tender flesh at my neck once more and I
held back my own cry, trying my damndest to keep quiet, but it was too much.
She was too much. I pounded ruthlessly into her body. She started making these
little whimpering noises and I knew she was on the precipice of a monster
orgasm.