The Winner Takes It All (A Something New Novel) (26 page)

Where was she? Would he be able to contain himself when she got here?

He took a sip of his watered-down drink. “Nothing.”

She smiled, her red lips curving. “Who is she?”

His mind flashed with images of Cecilia. Her hair a wild mess after he’d run his hands through the whiskey strands. Storm-blue eyes glassy with passion after he’d kissed her.

And that mouth. That goddamn mouth that would be the death of him.

His cock stirred and he shook it off, reminding himself summer Cecilia wouldn’t be here tonight. The ice queen would be in attendance. He’d like to believe it would make the night easier, but that was a lie. He knew her secrets now. Knew who she was under the mask.

The last couple of days at the farmhouse had been hell as he kept his physical distance. He increasingly ached for her and he’d be claiming her tonight.

He shrugged. “No one.”

“Sure,” she said, then smoothed her dress. “Good thing we’re no longer dating so I don’t have to be jealous.”

Time to change the subject. He tilted his head to the side. “How’s work?”

She laughed, but the sound didn’t shoot through him like Cecilia’s did.

Fuck. It was official. He had it bad.

“It’s like that, is it?” Harper waved a hand. “It’s fine. Just landed a huge client that promises to be some pretty cutting-edge technology.”

“Tell me about it.” His mind drifted to all the things he planned to do to Cecilia the second he got her alone. Truly alone in a way they hadn’t been for way too long.

There wasn’t one person to interrupt him.

Harper fingered a sparkly necklace around her neck. “You’re already not listening.”

“Sure I am,” he said, his gaze stealing to the clock. Cecilia should be here by now.

“You’re officially the worst date ever,” Harper said, her tone good-natured. Thankfully they’d been friends longer than they’d tried dating and she wasn’t perturbed by his lack of attention. There hadn’t been anything but comfort between them for a long time.

He shifted back to the entryway. Streams of well-dressed, overly coiffed couples filed in, dressed in black. Impatience roiled through him. He wanted her here. Now.

Then she was.

And it knocked the breath right out of him.

He broke into a sweat.

Jesus. Fucking. Christ.

He was going to kill her.

He’d been wrong. The ice queen was nowhere to be seen. Summer Cecilia was here and she looked absolutely drop-you-to-your-knees gorgeous.

Her dress was a pale, shimmery color that looked like she’d been dipped in white-blue ice crystals. It glided over her body, plunging down to her navel before skimming over her lean but now healthy frame. Gone was the pale, tired-looking Cecilia, and in her place stood this goddesslike creature.

A violent possessiveness coursed hot in his blood, mixing with his insatiable desire, throwing him off balance. The urge to throw his jacket over her beat an irrational rhythm in his chest.

“There she is,” Harper said, startling him from his thoughts.

“What?” he asked, still unable to take his eyes off Cecilia. Her hair was down, tossed in waves that made her look sexy as hell. He wanted to run his hands through it. Fist it tight and force her into admitting she was his. And only his.

Harper said something, but it was too distant to pay attention to with the blood rushing in his ears.

The only thing marring Cecilia’s perfect image was the man on her arm.

Miles Fletcher was all wrong for her. He looked like her damn father. Watching them walk down that carpet, smiling and stopping to talk to people, violated the laws of nature. That should be him. Them. All vows he’d made to play it cool tonight diminished in an instant.

He was fighting for her.

He wouldn’t cause a scene, but goddamn it, she belonged with him.

And nobody was taking her away.

Cecilia spotted Shane the instant she walked in the room, staring at her with that look in his eyes. The one that said he wanted her. That he was coming for her.

The dress had been worth it. She’d taken one look at the dress she’d originally planned to wear and discarded it, picked up her keys, and gone shopping. The second she’d spotted the dress, she’d known.

The expression on his face confirmed everything she’d thought when she’d tried it on.

Even from across the room, she could feel the heat rolling off him in waves, feel his predatory nature stalking to the surface.

She shivered, and Miles frowned down at her. “Didn’t I say you’d be cold in that dress, dear?”

She ignored the comment. As she’d ignored all the comments he’d made since he’d picked her up. A society-rag photographer stopped her, and she plastered a smile on her face as he took a picture of Miles and her.

She got it. He didn’t like the dress.

Well, she wasn’t dressing for him.

She’d dressed for Shane.

She’d waited anxiously as they made their way around the room with false cheer and a plastic smile. Kissing cheeks, doling out compliments, and making small talk with endless groups of people. The act was so second nature she could do it in her sleep.

You look lovely.

How are your children?

I heard about your (insert accomplishment). How wonderful.

On. And on. And on.

But something had changed; she could barely remember why this was important. Why any of this mattered.

The more she thought about it, the more convinced she became that she didn’t want to go back. Oh, she loved politics, that was true, but she wasn’t sure she loved being the main event.

She’d think about it later. Right now she had to make her way through this crowd to get to the only man that mattered to her at the moment.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, she stood in front of Shane and his date. The woman was a stunner in black. Together, with their golden blond hair and strong features, they made a striking couple. Jealousy reared up then died a quick death when Shane narrowed his gaze on her. All threat and heat and promise. He nodded. “Cecilia.”

“Shane.” Was that husky voice hers?

Their gazes locked, and held, far too long to be polite.

Miles jostled her elbow, breaking the hypnotic stare. She plastered on her biggest smile before turning to Shane’s date. “You must be Harper. Shane’s told me about you. I’m Cecilia Riley.”

The woman’s eyes widened, her lips curving into a knowing grin. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. How do you know Shane?”

Cecilia met his gaze. “My brother is marrying his sister. We’re going to be family soon.”

One brow rose up Shane’s forehead as his expression turned smug. “I suppose that’s true. Interesting.”

Miles shifted at her side, his cold fingers tightening on her elbow, a signal he expected an introduction. She cleared her throat. “This is Miles Fletcher.”

“Cecilia’s fiancé,” he said, holding out his hand.

She cringed at the word and Shane’s shoulders stiffened.

Harper’s expression widened. “Is that so?”

“Yes.” Miles put a hand on her lower back and his fingers pressed against her bare skin. She had to stop herself from recoiling. He turned to Shane. “Are you taking care of my girl in Revival?”

Heat climbed up Cecilia’s chest.

Shane drained the rest of his drink before smirking. “Oh, I’m taking care of her, all right.”

It was wrong. Very wrong. But the laughter bubbled inside her. She stared down at the floor and recited the Gettysburg Address in her head to keep from giggling.

Harper cleared her throat. “When’s Maddie’s wedding?”

“Next week.”

“I’m happy for her,” Harper said politely.

Shane was like a compulsion and Cecilia couldn’t help raising her gaze to meet his eyes.

So hot. So intent. She shivered. She wanted to be alone with him. Needed him away from Miles and Harper.

The silence turned awkward, but still she couldn’t look away.

Harper jingled her drink glass, snapping Cecilia from the spell. Expression wry, Harper shook her head at Shane and Cecilia before turning to Miles. “I could use a refill.” She smiled pointedly. “Can I accompany you to the bar?”

Cecilia wanted to kiss her in gratitude.

Miles was old-school polite and wasn’t in a position to say no without looking rude. He peered down at Cecilia. “What can I get you, dear?”

Cecilia said, “Champagne would be lovely, thank you.”

Miles narrowed his gaze on Shane. “Donovan?”

He flicked a glance at Harper. “She knows what I’m drinking.”

“Very well.” Mouth pursed in a firm line, he touched Cecilia’s elbow. “Are you sure you won’t accompany us?”

Wild horses couldn’t drag her from this spot. “No, I’m fine, thank you.”

Harper took Miles’s arm and tugged him away. Miles gave Cecilia a stern look of disapproval before leaving her alone with Shane.

Cecilia’s smile was polite, while inside desire churned hot. “You’re right, I do like her.”

Shane’s eyes narrowed and he took a step toward her, crowding her space. “Where’s the rest of your dress?”

Cecilia smoothed a hand over her abdomen. “Don’t you like it?”

“Turn around.” His tone was hard and commanding.

She pivoted in a slow circle.

“It has no back.”

And barely a front. “I was feeling daring.”

He took another step toward her, his green eyes piercing.

They were too close. Anyone observing them would see the intimacy between them. She should step back, but couldn’t. Wouldn’t.

His gaze locked on hers, dipping to her mouth for a moment, then down her body like a caress. “With the way I’m feeling, you’re lucky I don’t take ahold of you right now and show every single person in this room I know exactly how to take care of you.”

The possession in his tone thrilled her to the very tips of her toes. “Does that mean you like it?”

“That depends.”

“On what?” Her breath came fast, and the rational part of her brain told her to put a stop to this, but her senses had taken leave. She found she liked rousing Shane’s primitive instincts.

“Did you wear it for me?”

“Yes,” she said, her voice dropping down to an intimate whisper.

“Meet me in the bird exhibit in ten minutes.” His fingers flexed as he named the ancient, least exciting, farthest exhibit away from the main action. “That’s bound to be deserted.”

She nodded. All her senses heightened to hyperaware as she anticipated being alone with him. Somewhere secluded. And free.

“I’m in a dangerous mood, Cecilia. Be prepared.” His head dipped and his voice lowered. “You’re not going to look the same when you come out.”

By the time Cecilia showed, Shane felt like a caged lion. He grabbed her, pushed her into the first alcove he found and then his mouth was on hers.

His hands were everywhere. Sliding over silk and skin.

She tangled her fingers in his hair, moaning against his lips as his tongue plunged into her.

It was a mean kiss. A kiss filled with all sorts of dirty promises.

It enflamed him until he was like a feral beast, ready to drag her to the floor and claim her in the most primal way possible.

He cupped her breast and squeezed her nipple until she jerked against him.

It was too much. Too fast. Too dangerous. But he could not get enough. He shoved her hard against the wall, reaching under the slit of her dress and palming her silk-covered mound. He ground the heel of his hand against her clit until she rocked beneath him.

He tore his mouth away and gripped her throat as he rotated his hand. “This is mine. Nobody touches you but me.”

Her head fell back against the wall as her hips moved. “Yes, yes.”

It was like he was caught in some sort of primal, lust-filled fever. “Say my name.”

“Shane,” she moaned, and he slipped his fingers under her panties to find her wet and ready for him.

“Do you want my cock?”

She reached for him, her palm stroking over his erection. “Yes. It’s all I can think about.”

He plunged inside her hot, tight center, first one finger, then two, catching her cries with his lips, then skimming down her throat to suck the sensitive skin on her neck.

Marking her.

Her fingers worked his zipper, slipping inside to grip him in a tight hold. He groaned, pumping his fingers in and out of her swollen core, loving when her body quickened and her muscles clamped down.

“Shane. Jesus.” She pulled him down, demanding, and his mouth claimed hers.

Their breath rose and fell in a harsh wave as he devoured her with a kiss so raw, so dirty he may as well have been pounding into her right then and there. With a low growl, he pulled away, working her clit with his thumb until she was on the very brink of orgasm. “I am going to fuck the hell out of you later. Nothing and no one is going to stop me. You’re going to be sore for a week. You’re not going to be able to walk without thinking of my cock inside you.”

She came. Just like he knew she would.

Her body clamped down on his fingers in hard, rhythmic waves of release. He kissed her, capturing her cries until he wrung the last contraction out of her and she went limp.

She blinked up at him, her eyes dazed, her cheeks flushed. He pumped one more time, and then left the warm haven of her body, the primal fury still beating in his blood. His fingers glistened and he met her gaze, then, very slowly, painted her lips.

She gasped, her pupils dilating as he rubbed her lower lip before raising his hand and sucking his fingers clean. The taste of her clinging to him was pure torture, but damned worth it. He lowered his head. “You smell and look like sex. And for the rest of the night that’s all you’re going to be able to think about.”

She let out a long breath. Eyes still glassy, she gripped his shaft in a tight squeeze. “I want to suck your cock.”

Shocked, he jerked. She’d never said anything so overt.

She rose to her tiptoes and whispered in his ear, “That’s what I’m going to be thinking about. Because I am going to drop to my knees for you.”

He closed his eyes, picturing her on her knees before him. He took a deep breath, fighting to control the ache in his body that demanded
right now
. “Baby, whatever you want, it’s yours.”