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When I’m done, Pearl digs through the scattered clothing on the floor and retrieves her panties. She grabs a lacy little number that didn't stand a chance earlier. They are tattered and she frowns at them.
I put my hand out for the panties. She stares at me for a few seconds before nodding and dropping them into my palm. I put them in the back of a drawer and lock it with a flourish.
There’s absolutely no way that I’m not going to rub one out several more times with Pearl’s ripped panties pressed against my face. This moment has been too damn hot to pretend otherwise.
"Sorry for being bossy," she says. Her voice is soft but not quite apologetic. She's looking anywhere but at me. I realize with a start that she's uncertain how I took her assertiveness.
"Bossy?" I arch an eyebrow, stepping closer to zip up my slacks. "Pearl, if that was bossy, then you've got an open invitation to be 'bossy' with me anytime." My voice dips lower. "I loved it."
"Really?" Her eyes lift to meet mine, searching for sincerity.
"Really," I confirm with a nod. I reach out to tilt her chin up, ensuring there's no doubt left in her mind. "It's so damn sexy."
"Good," she says. A sly smile plays on her lips as she steps into her dress and starts wiggling into it. I can't resist; I lean in and steal another kiss.
This one is slow and languid, savoring the taste of her, the feel of her pressed against my chest.
"Next time, though, we take our time," I murmur against her lips, pulling back just enough to speak. “I’ll be less greedy, I swear.”
"Next time?" she exclaims, a hint of laughter in her voice. “Never apologize for worshipping my body, River.”
My lips tip upward. “You are a goddamn work of art. I hope you know that.”
“You remind me regularly.” Light shines in her eyes. “Should we get going?”
I pick up her dress and slip it over her head. My hands trace her arms, her breasts, her hips as I smooth it out.
I do worship Pearl’s body. I worship damn near everything about her.
And I hope to do so for several more months… until everything comes crashing down on our little bubble of happiness.
Twenty-Three
Pearl
River pulls the truck to a stop on the left side of his parents' long, gravel driveway. Cars line both sides, a snaking parade of parked luxury vehicles shining brightly in the brilliant April sunshine. The mansion itself is a series of sprawling white marble structures, like a coastal villa.
I expel a long breath and look at River. He's turned the engine off, but his hands still grip the wheel. The way he stares at the house, and the look of foreboding on his face, make the butterflies in my stomach feel more like angry bats.
"River," I prompt him after a few seconds. "This is our engagement party. And we're already late. My mom has been blowing up my phone asking when I'm going to get here. So... I think it would be rude not to go inside and rescue her. Like, soon."
He sighs. "Yeah."
I reach over to him, touching his forearm lightly. "Are you okay?"
He nods hesitantly. "I'm just preparing myself for battle. Usually when I step into my parents' house, I know I'm going to face a lot of questions about my business and my personal life. I can't say that I expect today to be any different."
I've never seen cool, confident River act nervous before. There must be more going on under the surface than I originally sensed. "One thing is very different this time." I touch his face with gentle fingers and turn him toward me. "You're going in with me. I'll have your back, no matter what."
My voice sounds more certain than I am. But bravado counts in this game. He swallows. For a second, a negative emotion flashes over his face. Guilt or anguish, maybe. But then it's gone, replaced with a tight smile.
He leans over and kisses my lips ever so lightly. His lips against mine cause a burst of butterflies in my stomach. I don't have time to examine exactly why. "You're right,” he says. “Let's go."
He gets out of the truck. I climb out too, tugging at the short hemline of my pastel green dress with a Peter Pan collar. Grabbing my purse and my camel cardigan, I take the arm that River offers me. Together, we walk up to the house.
The massive oak door is standing three quarters of the way open. The babble of voices hits me as soon as I step inside.
River ushers me into a high-ceilinged living room, and my eyes widen. My family has turned out in full force. They stand in small clumps, socializing with each other. River's family is mostly the same.
