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Our gazes are still locked. Very subtly, I nod. Alexander’s slow smile causes the smallest fissure in my heart to open a fraction wider.
He’s outrageously beautiful. And I remember his words.
I somehow got lucky enough to go on a fake date with a perfect little goddess who walked out of my wildest fantasies. When you get that lucky, baby, you don’t just let her walk away. You do whatever it takes to get another date with her. A real one, this time.
Maybe one more night with him wouldn’t be so bad.
One more night, and then I’ll figure out what to do.
21
“Why are you’re such a good dancer?” I ask him, laughing. The band is upbeat and they insisted the whole crowd pile onto the dance floor as soon the bride and groom had finished their first dance.
“Boarding school. All well-rounded young men should be able to lead a woman around the dance floor.”
“Who says you’re leading? Your hands keep wandering,” I tell him.
“Of course they do. Look at you.” His hands are on my waist, holding me against his big, lean body. He leans close to my ear and growls, “You look so fucking gorgeous I could eat you.”
“Didn’t you…already…?” I whisper back, blushing.
The blue heat in his eyes is becoming familiar to me by now. “Don’t mention eating your perfect pussy to me, Jones,” he murmurs, “or I’ll have to drag you back to our room and ravage you again.”
I laugh again. It’s been a while since I laughed this much. My grumpy fake date is not only infuriating, he’s also surprisingly charming. He’s got a wry, filthy sense of humor and he insists on having his arm around me at all times. He’s funny and attentive, and I’m having more fun than I’ve had in a long time.
The ceremony was beautiful and so far the reception has gone without a hitch. Sour-faced and sporting another beige outfit or not, I have to give it to Margot. She plans a good wedding.
Huge, full-bloom bouquets of white peonies and roses fill the marquee. Floral notes mix with the sea breeze, giving the whole place a magical atmosphere. Crisp white linen tablecloths, gold silverware and green sea-glass candleholders add to the luxury and romance of the setting.
Alexander brushes his lips against mine.
He doesn’t need to do this. No one’s questioning whether the two of us are legit anymore, if they ever did, and Margot seems to have accepted defeat once and for all. She’s distracted, busy ordering her minions around. She’s hardly a blip on our radar at this point.
I think Alexander and I have both decided to just enjoy the rest of our weekend and lean in to…this. This connection. This wild attraction. This crazy intensity.
The touch of his tongue sends a zing of electric warmth down my spine, settling lower, centering in that secret place. I can still feel the soreness…from his punishing, spilling cock.
“I’d kiss you properly,” he says, his voice low, “but I have to give a speech soon and I don’t want to scare anyone away with my gigantic hard-on.”
A giggle escapes me. “I can say from experience that it is in fact very scary. I can still barely walk.” The playful banter comes so easily. I stand on my toes to whisper in his ear. “I guess in that case I shouldn’t mention that I’m not wearing any panties.”
He groans. “Fucking hell, Jones. Are you trying to kill me?”
I can’t help laughing at his pained expression.
The band plays a final chord and Margot steps up to tap on the microphone. “Please take your seats, wedding guests. We’ll now begin the speeches as our third course is served.”
She motions to Alexander. He’s on the schedule to give the first speech.
He escorts me back to our table and pulls out my chair for me. Then he tops up my champagne from the ice bucket next to our table. He kisses me again, maybe more lustily than the occasion calls for, until a few people whistle and cheer.
Then he buttons the jacket of his tux and heads for the stage.
I’m a long way from acting as I gaze up at him, as rapt as everyone else here by his larger-than-life stage presence.
My first impression of Alexander Maddox was that he’s a powerful man who’s serious and reserved in everyday life. I wouldn’t have guessed that in his own way, he might be described as—if not the life of the party—definitely the magnetic force of it. Everyone watches him and wants to get close to him. He’s so darkly glamorous, so outrageously good-looking and has that smug humor that only comes out to play when he’s relaxed. And I happen to know by now that hot sex takes the edge off his darker moods.
“For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Alexander Maddox, Blake’s best man,” he begins.
