Wicked Bet: A Bad Boy Romance (2 page)

“Those were simpler times,” I said, a trace of sarcasm in my voice. “Nowadays, we’d probably set the stakes for who gets first shower on Sunday when we sleep in until seven before heading to our offices.”
 

“So let’s go back to simpler times. If by some miracle the spouse team wins, then tonight when we get home, I’m going to move my mouth eighteen inches lower and make you scream your brains out. But if—
when
—my team wins, you’ll be the one to blow my mind, so to speak.”

I raised an eyebrow at him, trying to look cocky even though I was the one who was pinned. This man who routinely worked on his laptop until two a.m. was proposing oral sex tonight? Giving or receiving, it was a win-win in my book. “Seems like a better use for your tongue than empty taunts,” I said. “I’m in.”
 

“Good,” he said, “May the best
man
win.”

“Don’t count your chickens before they hatch,” I said as smugly as I could while pinned under him.
 

“Who’s counting chickens?” The voice behind the car made us both flinch, but my husband relaxed once he saw his coworker, Johnson. Ian rolled off me, looking completely unperturbed at being caught groping his wife at a post-apocalyptic work event.
 

As soon as he let go of my wrists, I sat up, bringing my weapon up and pointing it straight at Ian’s teammate.
 

“Hey!” Johnson said, but he swiftly aimed his gun at me, too. Maybe he hadn’t thought I could go from making out to battle mode that quickly.
 

“Seriously, I’m going to start calling you Rambette,” Ian muttered as Johnson and I stared each other down. “But it’s two against one unless anyone else from the spouse team is still standing.”
 

“I think we’re the last three,” Johnson said, looking down at me on the ground.
 

“Then let’s end this thing,” Ian said. “Johnson, how about you and I go back toward the town square, and Alyssa, you head down that way,” he said, indicating yet another alleyway with a nod of his head. “Then next time we meet, it’s the final showdown. Agreed?”
 

I looked up at Johnson, keeping my gun steady. He nodded, letting the tip of his weapon droop downward. I shot him in the gut and then turned my gun on my husband.
 

“Lyss!” Ian sounded shocked, but his gun was now pointed at me, too. The man had good reflexes. “We had a truce.”
 

“If he hadn’t been staring at my breasts, he might’ve noticed that I didn’t agree to that truce.”
 

“I wasn’t staring at your breasts,” Johnson said, speaking directly to my exposed cleavage. He finally pulled his eyes away as the announcer called his name and said he was out. “Good luck, man,” he told Ian and headed toward the war-ravaged town square, where the exit was.

“Now it’s just us.” Ian reached out with his free hand, pulling me easily to my feet, his gun never wavering. Neither did mine.
 

Once standing, I tugged at the zipper of my jumpsuit, my gaze steady on his.
 

“Scared you’re going to lose the bet?” asked my husband of eighteen months.
 

“No.”
 

“You look scared,” he said, moving a step closer, making me take a small compensatory step back. “Your face is flushed. Your chest is heaving. If you’re not scared ... then why are you breathing so hard? Could there be some other reason?” His voice was suggestive.

Because we haven’t had sex in weeks, I wanted to say, but I knew he was just trying to distract me. And it was working. Seeing his strong, muscular form right in front of me, his eyes blazing, his warm lips surrounded by sexy black stubble ... I wanted to forget about the guns, the game, and both our jobs. I wanted him to take me right here. Right now.
 

Perhaps he was thinking the same thing, because his breathing seemed rapid, too. We moved in closer, the laser tag weapons the only thing between our bodies.
 

“Ian ... ” I said, but I wasn’t sure how to finish that sentence. Ian I miss you? Ian, we never see each other anymore? Ian, bend me over the hood of this fake car and take me hard, cameras and coworkers be dammed?
 

But before I could say any of those things, the lights above us flickered once, twice, and then plunged us into darkness. I spun around wildly, half expecting a zombie horde to descend on us. Damn, this game was going to make a ton of money. Everything felt so realistic that I’d actually felt a shiver of fear when the lights went out. But a moment later, they came back on, full strength this time, illuminating the props and sets around us, making them look far less authentic.
 

The announcer’s voice came through the speaker. “Sorry, folks ... looks like we had a small glitch. We’ll make sure that’s working before Friday. So for tonight’s inaugural game, we have a tie: Ian Watson and his lovely wife Alyssa.”
 

Ian looked pretty disgruntled for a guy who’d just tied for first place. “Shit. So I guess neither of us won the bet,” he said.

“Yeah.” I was disappointed too. I’d wanted to win. I’d wanted to beat him. But more than that, I’d wanted to be intimate with him, and win or lose, that would’ve happened.
 

Maybe it still could. “On the other hand ... neither of us
lost
the bet, either.”
 

A wicked gleam lit up his dark charcoal eyes. “Maybe we both deserve a reward, then.”
 

“Exactly,” I said, laughing with anticipation as he grabbed my hand and set off at a brisk pace toward the exit.

Chapter Two

WE WERE ALL over each other on the ride home. The taxi driver was probably getting quite an eyeful in his rearview mirror. He was certainly getting an earful as I moaned and whimpered from Ian’s talented lips nuzzling my neck.

I was giving as good as I was receiving, too. Straddling his lap, my hands running up and down the rock-solid muscles in his upper arms and his hard, hot chest. It’d been so long since we’d gone at each other like this, all crazed and hot and bothered.
 

The last time we’d had sex had been quick. Perfunctory, even. And squeezed in between work e-mails for me and a late night conference call for him. How did other married couples manage to keep their sex life strong? Possibly it was easier when you didn’t work one hundred thirty hours a week between the two of you.
 

“Turn left on Twenty-Fifth Street,” Ian barked and sank his teeth into my earlobe, making me squeal. He continued in a sexy growl that—hopefully—only I could hear. “I’m going to make you come so hard tonight. Make you shriek and scream my name. I’m not going to stop until you wake up every neighbor on our floor.”
 

Moaning, I wiggled in his lap, kissing the corner of his mouth, trying to catch his bottom lip. I wanted him so badly. I tugged at his lip, swirling my tongue around it, giving him a preview of what he could expect tonight.
 

In response, he grabbed hold of my hips, pushing me down against the hard bulge beneath me. I groaned, deep in my throat. I’d missed this so much. “Ian,” I whispered, putting my hands on either side of his face and kissing him deeply. “I’m going to suck you dry tonight.”
 

“Lyss ... Alyssa ... ” He wrapped his arms around me and held me tightly. “In less than ten minutes, you’re going to be on your back, thrashing your head back and forth and saying—”
 

“That’ll be eighteen-fifty.” The driver pulled up to the curb, seeming eager to get rid of us. We groaned at the interruption, but at least that meant we were one step closer to a night of passion.
 

I dismounted as Ian fumbled with his wallet and handed the driver a twenty and a few singles. Grabbing my hand, he pulled me from the car, hurrying to the entrance of our apartment building. A moment later, I was in the elevator attempting to climb him like a ladder, one of my legs wrapped around his waist, his hand on my ass, pulling me as close as possible.
 

He plunged his free hand in my hair as I unbuttoned his shirt, hoping to save us time once we got to our place. When the elevator dinged at the fifth floor, I let go of him, but he wasn’t having any of that. He lifted me up, carrying me out of the elevator and down the hallway.
 

Shrieking with excited laughter, I attempted to fit my key in the lock—not easy to do while someone is kissing you and smashing you against his erection.
 

Finally, I got the key in the hole, noticing for the first time how suggestive that act was. Luckily, Ian was a lot bigger than a key. A
lot
bigger.
 

Inside, he pushed me up against the wall, pinning my hands back the way he had in the laser tag arena. Our mouths crashed against each other, and I ground my hips against his hard bulge, knowing I was going to taste it tonight. Hoping I was going to feel it pounding inside me tonight.

“Are you ready to scream my name?” Ian said, his voice rough with need. “Though maybe I should make you give me my reward first—after all, I would’ve won if the game hadn’t stopped.”
 

Mmm ... I felt a sudden tremor of excitement at the thought of him
making
me go first. In the year or two before we got married, we’d experimented with some kinkier kinds of play, including him giving me sexy orders in the bedroom. But it’d been ages since we’d done anything like that, and right now, I’d be thrilled with any kind of sex. His lips on my throat felt so incredible—that always got me so hot. And when his hips pushed against me ... wait a minute, what’d he just say? “What makes you think you would’ve won?”
 

“I could’ve taken you out at any point after I grabbed you.”
 

“And you might have if you hadn’t been so busy feeling me up.”
 

“What can I say, everyone needs a hobby,” he said, wedging his hand between our bodies, finding my nipple and demonstrating how good he was at his hobby. He tugged on one nipple then the other, making my eyes close in pleasure. It had been so damn long.
 

Deftly, he undid the buttons on my blouse and slid his hand under the waistband of my skirt. My hips were making circles now, pressing against his fingers as I leaned against the wall, my legs wrapped around him.
 

His touch moved lower, teasing me, tickling me, slipping under my panties ... kneading, rubbing, and pressing. Directly on my bladder.
 

“Oof ... put me down a sec, hon,” I said, wincing.
 

“Good idea,” he said, carrying me down the hall toward the bedroom. “I know the perfect place.”

“No, stop ... I’ve got to use the bathroom.”
 

He rolled his eyes as I slid my legs down his body. “All right, I’ll get us some wine.”
 

“Meet you in the bedroom in two minutes,” I said, making a run for it. I used the bathroom as fast as humanly possible and did a quick makeup and hair check. Fortunately, my mascara was still on my lashes, not my cheeks. And my long light brown hair still had a hint of wave from the curling iron I’d employed nearly eighteen hours ago. Not bad for a woman who’d worked all day, rolled around in a fake alley, and made out in a real cab.
 

Tossing my blouse and skirt in the general direction of the hamper, I debated about hunting up some lingerie, but my black lace bra and panties would have to do. I thought about keeping my heels on—Ian always liked that, and I enjoyed being a few inches closer to his six-foot height. But truthfully, after trotting around in that real-life video game earlier, my feet were a little sore.
 

Hmm ... maybe I should’ve made the bet be that if I won, Ian would have to rub my feet. No, an orgasm was better. I could pay someone to rub my feet, whereas paying someone to give me an orgasm would probably not go over very well. With a grin, I headed out to pounce on my sexy hubby.
 

Our king-size bed was empty. Maybe he was getting us a snack? But I wasn’t hungry, at least not for food. In fact, the only thing I wanted in my mouth right now was decidedly
not
an item from the refrigerator. “Hon?”
 

Hearing his voice in the kitchen, I headed that way. He was at the counter, his back to me, two glasses and a corked bottle of wine on the counter. God, his ass looked so good in those dress slacks. How often did I get to see him from this angle? Not very often considering how rarely I saw him when he wasn’t sleeping or sitting at his computer.
 

I wrapped my hands around his waist, making him jump. I squeezed him tight, and then rubbed my hand down his pelvis, reaching for his ... his ... uh-oh. His no-longer-hard cock.

“I told you, it has to be on website tonight.” There was a pause and I retracted my hand. He was on the phone. With work. My heart sank. “I know the official opening is Friday, but we’ve been running ads for months, and you said you’d have this done by today.”
 

I tried to rationalize this. It might be a quick phone call. It might be just
one
phone call. It could happen. Ian turned and smiled apologetically at me. “One second,” he mouthed. With the phone pressed between his shoulder and his ear, he opened the bottle of wine and poured us some.
 

Taking mine into the living room, I sat down at my laptop. If he was going to, I may as well check in with work, too. My colleagues knew I had a thing with Ian tonight, but that hadn’t stopped them from sending me a total of fourteen new messages.
 

Quickly, I scanned through them one by one. Unimportant. Redundant. Unimportant. Important. Important. Very important. Damn, were they trying to take me off the Garcia case? I’d been working on that for months. I’d billed more hours on it than any other lawyer at our firm. No way they were yanking me from that case. I was the hardest working person they had.
 

Furious, I kept reading. Oh. It was because they needed me to help out on Arnold’s new case. Like I should be punished because Arnold was absent the day they taught law in law school?