OPENING NIGHTarrived. It was a soft opening during the late fall—the not-so-busy season—traditionally the calm before the storm surge of winter-break vacationers.
Asher had arrived earlier in the week, just him and Natalie without the kids. He was content to hole up in a suite with his woman and not micromanage me, which made me happy. I was confident everything would run smoothly—the hotel business was in my blood.
I’d never felt more fucking confident than recently. My ego savored the fact that I was my own man, doing shit on my terms. But mostly it digested every morsel the woman currently getting dressed placed in my hand.
Lynx had spent at least an hour in the bathroom doing God only knew what with her hair. I sat on the balcony, my tux shirt undone around the neck, my bow tie not even close to being tied, dreaming of not showing up to the event, burying my face between her legs, licking and sucking her every drop of wetness.
“Hey.”
When I heard her voice, I turned, completely unprepared for the sensational beauty I would find. Wearing a green dress, the color of grass on a well-manicured golf course, vibrant against her slightly tanned skin, soft and flowing around her luscious curves, Lynx looked like royalty. Her hair was smooth and pulled into some type of updo arrangement, and on her feet, sky-high gold metallic heels that I wanted to toss into the air while I buried myself deep inside her.
My mind was working overtime imagining the scenarios.
It couldn’t be helped. I had to adjust myself.
“Lynx.” Her name caught in my throat. “You look beautiful. No, stunning. Ravishing. Come here,” I demanded, my voice hungry with need, my thoughts jumbled like a blanket on a windy beach. When she hesitated, I said, “The breeze is gentle, your hair will stay in place.”
She smiled and stepped onto the balcony. My arm swooped out and pulled her close as soon as I could reach. “Mmm.” I breathed her scent in.
“I like your shoes,” she told me, smiling toward my black-on-black-patent Air Force 1s.
I shrugged. “You know what they say. You can dress up a bad boy, but you can’t make him wear loafers.”
“I’m not sure that’s how it goes,” she said, giggling in my ear. Her giggle—it had been a long time, but it was slowly making a return. I’d pay a cool million for each and every one if I could.
“It’s absolutely how it goes, or maybe I lost all my brain cells when you walked out in that dress, looking the way you do. All sexy and needing to be fucked.”
Another giggle and then a scowl. “Mike, that’s not exactly the look I’m going for.”
“It works for me.” I ran my nose along her cheekbone. Giving her an Eskimo kiss, I asked, “Ready to go?”
“Not really. I’m a little nervous, you know.”
“It’s going to be great. No worries. Nat’s gonna be there. You’ll really get to know Petey, Asher’s brother. Looks a bit like him. Do you remember him from Vegas at all?”
“And your mom and dad’ll be there.”
“Ignore them. They’ll more than likely both be bellied up to a bar and three sheets to the wind.”
I laced my fingers with hers and squeezed, ignoring the pearls around her neck. They were meant to be some sort of peace offering from my dad. I let them go when I heard her next question.
“Do they know what I did? Before?”
“They don’t, but it doesn’t matter. I know and I don’t care. You’re who you are, and I love every bit of that person.”
“When the book—”
“When the book comes out, no one is going to be prouder than me. Proud as fuck,” I said firmly.
Lynx had been making progress with her therapy. As for me, I had to go with her a few times, mostly to make me understand that it wasn’t my job to keep telling her to leave everything in the past. Lynx’s experiences had shaped her, and it was my job to accept and understand that. We’d both been emotionally abandoned as kids. I’d clung to Asher and the Electric Tunnel gang, and Lynx went looking in all the wrong places.
While it was in the rearview, I had to acknowledge it existed.
I was reading parts of Lynx’s story as she wrote it, and I couldn’t lie—it was hard at times to read it, but she was mine now.
We were each other’s for life.
“You know what? On second thought, I’m not so anxious to blow this joint.” I ran my lips over hers, allowing my hard to melt into her soft.
