Before I can completely humiliate myself by saying it out loud, Dean tightens his grip and turns, pulling me off the wall so he can push us deeper into the shadows cast by the wall of shrubbery I’d been hiding behind. Hitting a dead end, he pins me against another wall with his hips, angling himself over me. “Hewhat?”
“He…” Swallowing hard, I feel my breath stall in my chest when Dean’s gaze drops to my mouth. He’s hard. I can feel the thick, rigid length of him pressing against my belly. “He…”
Lowering his mouth to mine, Dean teases his tongue along the curve of my lower lip. “Go on…” Loosening one of his hands from around my arm, he slides it along the slope of my shoulder. “It’s okay… you can say it…” Fingers trailing up the side of my neck, he wraps them around the back of it. “He what?”
“I don’t…” Shaking my head, I feel shame burn a hole in my gut. “I can’t…”
Looking down at me, Dean frowns. “It’s okay.” He strokes the line of my throat with the callused pad of his thumb. Dipping his head, he brings his mouth to within a breath of mine. “Whatever it is, you can say it …” tracing the tip of his tongue along the loose seam of my lips, Dean watches me through his lashes, his expression dark. “I promise not to kill him.” The corner of his mouth lifts again in a vicious smirk. “I might fuck him up a little bit but I won’t kill him. Promise…”
“He…” Squeezing my eyes shut on a whimper, I push it out on a rush. “He felt sorry for me. He said that wasn’t the reason why but I know…” Cheeks stained an ugly red, I shake my head on a bitter laugh. “Does that make you feel better? Is that what youwant to hear? Curt asked me to be his date tonight because?—”
The sound he makes when I say it is caught somewhere between irritation and relief. “Seriously?” Pressing his thumb into the underside of my chin, he makes that sound again. “How is it possible that you’re so goddamned blind?” Tilting my head, angling it so he can continue his teasing, Dean scrapes and nips his teeth along the taut line of my jaw, on his way to my ear. “That asshole doesn’t feel sorry for you, Princess…” The hand still gripped around my arm loosens its hold to slide down the length of it to wrap around my hip. “He didn’t ask you here because he’s a nice guy, from a good family…” The fingers on my hip start to pull, gathering the skirt of my dress. Lifting it, inch by inch. “But let’s just say, for the sake of argument, that you’re right.” Cool, night air feathers against my exposed thighs, a second before I feel the skim of his thumb, stroking the soft skin between them. “Let’s say he asked you here to be nice…” The hand wrapped around my throat tightens just a bit. Just enough to stiffen my nipples and gather the flush in my cheeks to shoot it down my spine. “Followed you around…touching and kissing you all fucking night…” The thumb between my thighs skims its way higher to brush against the strip of damp silk at their juncture, his grip tightening on my skirt like he’s thinking about ripping it to shreds when he feels how aroused I am. “Because he felt sorry for you.” Pressing a kiss against the soft patch of skin behind my ear, Dean laughs quietly. “Because the thought of you sitting at home alone on a Friday night offended hisnice guysensibilities.” Teasing my entrance, he presses into me through my panties, soaking them with my arousal. “Let’s say you’re right…” Still teasing, he skims the pad of his thumb along the curve of my cleft. “Thatstilldoesn’t solve your problem.”
“Problem?” Turning my head in his grip, I bring my mouthto within an inch of his. Looking up at him, it takes everything I have to keep my hips from tilting into the teasing stroke of his thumb. “Now Curt’s my problem?”
“No, that asshole isn’t your problem…” Gaze hooked into mine, Dean slides his thumb to the edge of the thin silk strip he’s teasing me through. Slipping past it, he pushes deep, splitting the seam of my wet, swollen pussy on a quiet groan. “This is your problem…” Reaching the top of my cleft, Dean swirls his thumb against my throbbing clit, his gaze dropping to my mouth when I let out a soft whimper. “I’myour problem.” Still stroking me, he brushes his mouth against mine. “You don’t want anice guyfrom a good family.”He dips his head even lower to give my bottom lip a punishing nip. “Someone with the right last name that your father approves of.” Sliding his fingers even lower, he cups them against the juncture of my thighs. “You want me.” Stroking their tips against my bare entrance, a low growl rumbles through his chest when my hips stop obeying and tilt themselves into the pressure of his hand. “You might hate me, Mills…” He pumps his fingers into me, breaching my entrance on a hard thrust that steals my breath. “You might think I’m alying, cheating, smug egotistical bastardbut you want me.” Retreating, Dean’s hand tightens its grip around my throat, his mouth brushing against mine with every word. “You might not love me…” Lifting his head, his dark, guarded gaze hooked into mine, Dean fucks his fingers back into me so deep it nearly shatters me. “But you love the way I fuck you and that’s enough for me.”
Eyes wide, I breathe his name, my thighs starting to shake around the press of his hand. “Dean…”
“Mmm…” He makes that noise deep in his throat, his fingers stroking the walls of my pussy while the heel of his hand grinds against the top of my cleft. “You ready to come for me, Princess?”
I am. I’m so close I’m barely hanging on but I don’t let go. I don’t want to. Not yet. “I need?—”
“You need my cock?” Fingers still moving, he groans. “Is that it? You need to come on my cock, Mills?”
Whimpering softly, I nod my head. “Yes, please…”
“Fuck.” He growls it against my mouth, the rough, angry sound of it telling me he never meant for this to happen. Never meant to take it this far. “Hold your dress for me.”
Dropping my hands from his shoulders I gather my skirt between shaky fingers, lips rolled between my teeth while Dean’s hands work between us. Jerking my panties down so I can step out of them. Unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants. Working them down just enough to free the rigid length of his cock.
“Dean.” I say his name again, when I feel the head of it brush against the inside of my thigh, the pitch of it ragged and thin because I can’t wait. I need him. I need?—
“Shhh…” Fitting his hands around the backs of my thighs, Dean lifts me, his thick, hard cock sliding along the seam of my wet slit before he notches the head of it against my entrance. “You have to be quiet, Mills…” Rocking his hips against mine, he drops his head to press his face against my neck on a quiet groan when the tight walls of my pussy close around him. Pulling out he does it again, stroking back in, so hard and deep, I have to swallow the strangled moan that tries to rip itself from my throat. “Fuuck… I need you to be my good girl and stay quiet while I fuck you.” Flexing his hips against mine, on a rough curse, I feel his callused fingers dig into my ass cheeks. “Can you do that for me?”
Swallowing hard, I wrap my arms around his neck, my legs around his waist, and nod. “Yes.” I whisper it in his ear, pushing my fingers into his hair. “I can be good.”
“Too good…” Dean does it again, working himself inside me, pounding me into the rough brick wall I’m pinned against, the sting of it biting into my bare shoulders with every deep, heavy thrust. I’ll have marks. Abrasions and bruises I’ll have to explain but I don’t care. “That’smyproblem…always has been…too fucking good…touch yourself…” he groans against the side of my neck. “Rub your clit for me, Princess… I want to feel you milk my cock like a good little slut.”
Pulling one of my arms from around his neck, I push my hand between us, my fingers brushing against the base of his cock, while I swirl and circle them against my engorged clit, bottom lip caged between my teeth in an effort to stay quiet.
The fast click of high heels approaching lifts Dean’s head from the crook of my neck. Turning toward the sound, his jaw clenches. Looking down at me, the blue of his eyes is so dark they’re almost black when they hook themselves into mine. The look he’s giving me is so loud it’s practically a shout.
Don’t.
Turning my head, I already know who I’m going to see.
Paige.
I can see her—pale blonde hair and the vivid blue of the dress she’s wearing—through the dense foliage that separates us. She’s alone, standing about thirty feet away, her cellphone in hand and pressed to her ear while she calls someone. Almost immediately, the cell phone in the breast pocket of Dean’s tux vibrates against my chest.
She’s calling him.
Dean makes a low, strangled sound in the back of his throat, the look on his face caught somewhere between panic and resignation. Shaking his head, Dean lowers it, pressing his mouth to my ear. “I was never with her…” He barely breathes it. His hips start to move against mine, giving me hard, deep strokes, his fingers tightening their grip on my thighs like he’s afraid I’m going to try to run away. Like I’m going to start fighting him before he can say the rest of it. “I was never fucking with her, Mills… I was always with you…in my head, I was always with you.”
Inside his pocket, Dean’s phone goes to voicemail.
“Quit being a baby, Mercer,” Paige says, her voice carrying across the terrace. “I fucked up. I know I fucked up. Allister was a mistake—you were right, the only reason I went after him is because I hate to see her happy but she’snevergoing to forgive either one of us so you might as well call me back because you know I’m the closest you’re ever going to get.”
