Page 60 of LA King

“Why?” she asks, all wide-eyed and innocent. Jesus, she is so fucking naive sometimes. It kills me.

I wrap my arms around her waist, pinning her to me. “Because then I could raise the privacy screen and fuck you in this dress”

“But then you might ruin this very expensive dress, sir,” she whispers seductively as Jacob climbs back into the car.

“I’m going to ruin it later anyway,” I growl in her ear. “Along with those new panties you bought.”

Her cheeks flush the cutest shade of pink. “You have a filthy mouth.”

“I know. But I have an even filthier mind, and you love it.” I brush her hair back from her face and pull her to me so I can kiss her. I part her lips with my tongue because I need to get some part of my body inside her, and even I’m not okay with fucking her in full view of my driver.

By the time we get to the hotel, I have a raging, painful hard-on. I ask Jacob to take us to the service entrance so I won’t have to walk through the crowded lobby with my cock straining the seam of my pants. A quick glance at my watch confirms my suspicion that I won’t have time to take her up to my suite for some quick relief. The event is due to start in less than ten minutes.

I give her perfect ass a squeeze and guide her to the elevator. This evening is going to be torture because I will spend it counting down the seconds until I can get her alone.

Chapter

Thirty-Two

Alana

Alejandro looks so handsome in his tuxedo, and his amorous affections in the car on the way here have me a trembling, hot mess while we take the elevator to the lobby. It’s almost a shame we have to go to the awards dinner, although it will be nice to meet some of his friends and business associates—the legitimate ones who I expect will be at this dinner, anyway.

The elevator stops at the lobby, and we step out, straight into the path of two blond goddesses. I don’t think I’ve seen two more stunning and elegant-looking women in my life. They have the kind of cheekbones that could carve ice.

“Alejandro,” the slightly taller one says, clapping her hands with delight. “We’ve been wondering where you were.” Ignoring my presence, she wraps her arms around his neck and gives him a kiss on each cheek. The second woman does the same while I stand awkwardly at his side, feeling, and probably looking, like a Z-list extra at an A-lister’s movie premiere.

To his credit, Alejandro keeps his hand on the small of my back throughout this exchange and introduces me as soon as he’s able. “Ladies, this is my wife, Alana.”

I hold out my hand in greeting. They both look at it and then at me as though I’m something stuck to the bottom of their Jimmy Choos. Feeling like I’m back in high school talking to the mean girls, I let my arm fall to my side and will the ground to swallow me whole.

“Alana, this is Keira.” He indicates the taller one. “And Michaela.”

They give me a half-assed fake smile and turn all their attention back to my husband. “Where have you been, Alejandro?” Michaela places her hand on his free arm. “We’ve missed you.”

He clears his throat and checks his watch. “This thing is about to start. We should take our seats, and I’m needed on stage.” He slips his hand in mine, bids his friends goodbye, and strides to the ballroom with me struggling to keep up with him in my heels. Is he worried he’ll be late for his opening speech? Or is he trying to get away—or get me away—from Michaela and Keira?

“Who are those women?” I ask.

“No one important.” I stop in my tracks, causing him to stop too, and he turns to me and sighs. “What is it?”

“Are they your ex-girlfriends?” They look exactly like some of the women I’ve seen him with in magazines—impossibly skinny, tall, blond, and beautiful.

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I dated them both for a few weeks, that’s all.”

“At the same time?”

He at least has the good grace to look a little chagrined about that. “Yes.”

Jesus! He dated those two goddesses at the same time? Just how much woman does one man need? “How many weeks is a few?”

He yanks me closer, having to dip his head so he can speak in my ear without being overheard. “I have a past, Alana. I’ve dated plenty of women, and we are going to run into them occasionally. But they are in my past. So please stop acting like a spoiled child and behave yourself.”

I glare at him, annoyance prickling beneath my skin. He knows that accusing me of acting like a spoiled child pushes my buttons. Now I have to behave, or I’ll risk having him say he was proven right.

I plaster a fake smile on my face and remind myself that it’s me he’s with. Me he’s married to. He’s right—I knew he had a past, and he’s not responsible for my insecurities. “Fine. Let’s go.”

The awards dinner turns out to be entertaining. Alejandro and I are seated at a table with the mayor and his lovely wife, Lorna, as well as a few city council officials, and I’ve enjoyed talking all things politics with them.