Cupping his hand over the receiver, he said, “Driver, do you know a quicker way to LaGuardia?”
The driver chuckled. “Sure thing, chief.”
Removing his hand from the mic, he said, “My flight lands at two. Why don’t you meet me at the airport?”
“I’ll be there, honey.”
He licked his lips, already anticipating her very special brand of welcome.
I can’t wait to get home.
Hours later, they were kissing their way into his bedroom, barely able to keep their hands off each other. Fumbling around for the light switch while reaching over her shoulder, he finally gave up, depending on his other senses to guide them toward his bed while he kissed her.
Pulling back from her sweet lips, he asked, “Is there a reason you chose this dress to pick me up from the airport in?”
She looked down at the fitted black minidress, feigning innocence. “What, this? I just threw it on so you wouldn’t be waiting long.”
He chuckled. “You lie so well I almost believe it.” He punctuated his words with more kisses as his hands circled the bare skin of her thighs, just below the hem of the dress.
“Mmm.” She moaned into his ear. “Why don’t you let me congratulate you...my way?” She grasped his arms, turning him so his back was to the bed.
“What do you have in mind?” Moments later, as she stripped him of his clothes, pushed him down to sit on the bed, and knelt before him, her intentions became clear. He growled as her lips closed over his hard shaft, weaving his fingers through her hair. “Shit.”
She hummed, the vibration adding to the pleasure of her warm, wet mouth wrapped around him. Her head moved back and forth in time with her impassioned sucking, and he felt his whole body start to tremble. Letting his hands slip down to her shoulders, he gently pushed her away. “If you keep that up I’m gonna...”
“Come?” She teased the tip with her tongue. “What if that’s what I want?”
He jerked in response. “No, baby. I want to be inside you when it happens.” He helped her up off the floor, drawing her onto his bed. She knelt over him, raising her arms as he snatched off her dress. The red lace bra and thong set she wore beneath only increased the fire in his blood.
“Grab a condom from my nightstand, baby,” he instructed softly.
She did as he asked, and to his surprise, rolled the protection down over his shaft.
Unable to wait another moment to be inside her, he nudged her into place. Crooking his finger, he slid her panties to one side, then guided her down onto his dick.
He gritted his teeth against the blinding pleasure as she began to ride, rolling her hips as she held on to his waist. She moved her hands up, splaying them across his abdomen as she shifted forward, circling her hips like she was working an imaginary hula hoop.
It wasn’t long before he heard her moans climbing higher, indicating an oncoming orgasm. He grabbed her waist and thrust up, letting his hips piston to meet hers. She tossed her head back and screamed his name while her body pulsated around him. Moments later, his own orgasm raced through his body, the force of it making him growl and shake.
In the aftermath, they lay sprawled across his comforter. Holding her in his arms felt like second nature, like destiny. He crooked his finger beneath her chin, guiding her face until she looked into his eyes.
“What is it, Blaine?”
“Stay with me, Eden.” He was too far gone to worry about whether he sounded weak. He needed her, and there was no way around it. “Forever.”
She offered him a soft smile. “I’ll think about it.”
He chuckled. “C’mon, baby. Don’t tease a brotha. Not at a moment like this.”
She shook her head. “Don’t worry. I’ll stay.” She snuggled closer to him.
And as he held her body close to his, he felt a sense of peace like nothing he’d ever experienced before.
Epilogue
January
Raising the steaming cup of cocoa to her lips, Eden stood by the large bay window, watching the swirling snow outside. The picturesque image of the fluffy white flakes floating over the peaks of the Loveland Ski Resort provided the perfect backdrop for their honeymoon. She took a long sip, savoring the chocolaty warmth of the beverage and the warmth she felt inside.
Blaine walked up behind her, wearing nothing but a pair of silk boxers. He draped his strong arms around her waist. Feeling the hard lines of his body pressed against her made her shiver, but not from the cold. “Hey, you. What are you thinking about?”
“About how lucky I am. How happy I am to be your wife.” She set the cocoa down on the windowsill and turned within the circle of his arms.
“Funny. I was thinking about how glad I am we chose to marry this way...just the two of us, the justice of the peace and the mountain.”
She smiled at the memory of the previous day’s mountaintop ceremony. As local Justice Sophia Llewellyn presided, they’d said their vows surrounded by the azure sky, the puffy white clouds and the chilly Colorado winds. He’d worn a charcoal wool suit, and she’d worn a fully lined formal white pantsuit and matching hat, accented with faux fur and Swarovski crystals. Instead of carrying a bouquet, she’d worn a crystal-studded faux-fur muff. “It was a wonderful day.”
“A wonderful night, too, if I recall.” He brushed his lips over the hollow of her throat.
She blushed, remembering how he’d carried her over the threshold of their cozy little mountainside cabin, slowly undressed her and made passionate love to her until she’d cried tears of joy into his strong shoulder. “You’ll get no complaints from me.”
He leaned in then and kissed her softly. “I can’t believe it took me so many years to get out of my own way and do right by you.”
“Me, either.” She grinned, touched his cheek. “But better late than never, as they say.”
“I love you, Eden Voss Woodson.”
With the happy tears gathering in her eyes once again, she whispered, “I love you, too.”
He pulled her in for his kiss, and before long, he carried her to the bed again.
And as the moon ascended over the Colorado mountains, her cries of ecstasy rose on the cold night air.
* * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from Billionaire Behind the Mask by Andrea Laurence.
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Billionaire Behind the Mask
by Andrea Laurence
One
This was a bad idea, but no one seemed to realize it but Lauren.
Everyone else in her life was thrilled that she’d won the local radio contest that awarded her a glamorous makeover, limo transportation and tickets for two to the charity masquerade ball at the Texas Cattleman’s Club. She was less excited by the news because, in all honesty, Lauren Roberts was not the kind of person to enter a contest like that. It was even called the Cinderella Sweepstakes. How over the top was that? Like she was going to meet her Prince Charming out on the dance floor or something. The last time she’d stepped foot in this building, it had been a nightmare, not a dream come true.
No, she had no interest in going to that party or hanging out with those people at the club. Unfortunately, she’d been entered by her well-meaning friend and employee Amy without her knowledge. The next thing she knew, she was spending a normally lucrative Saturday at a day spa. She should’ve been with one of her food trucks downtown. She was always at one of her food trucks, but she supposed that was the point Amy was trying to make by entering her in the contest.
So, she had n
o social life. It didn’t bother her. She had two successful food trucks and a booming career as a chef. That was more important to her. Spending a day getting steam facials, manicures and highlights in her hair was a waste of time and money to Lauren. In her day-to-day life, none of that mattered. Her dark brown hair was always back in a bun, where no one would see the caramel highlights that were added. She got plenty of steam facials from the hot water trays in the trucks that kept food warm. And no one would see pretty nails when she was wearing food service gloves.
The whole thing was preposterous, but in the end she’d agreed to go. Because, like it or not, if she wanted to get a permanent location in Royal, Texas, and build a high-end clientele, she needed to spend more time with the kind of people that frequented the club. With that in mind, she’d put on the bright red dress that was chosen for her by the personal shopper for the contest, tied on her mask and hoped for the best.
Everyone had told her to enjoy herself. Have fun. Make the most of her night off without worrying about whether one of the trucks ran out of supplies or if Javier, the line cook, made the nightly deposit. Amy had things under control, but letting go was hard to do. It would require some alcohol. But she could do it. And deep down, Lauren knew she needed to do it.
This wasn’t high school anymore. She could go to this party and have a good time. With the ornate mask she was wearing, she could even pretend to be someone else tonight. No one would expect mousy, workaholic chef Lauren Roberts to be at the club anyway. She didn’t belong here. But the mysterious woman in red—she could fit in...and have an amazing time this evening.
She just had to get out of the damn limo.
The driver had been standing patiently with the door open for quite a while now, waiting for Lauren to step out. At this point, she was probably causing a traffic jam.
“Ma’am?” he asked at last, with concern lining his face.
“Yes, sorry.” Lauren snatched up her black, beaded clutch and forced herself out of the limousine. She took a step up the stairs to the grand entrance and stopped again. It looked very different from what she remembered, but it had been eleven years since she’d been to the club. While appearances had changed both for her and the building itself, the feelings it roused in her were the same: excitement followed quickly by anxiety and a touch of dread.
She turned to see if her getaway car was still available, but the driver and the limo were down the road already. Another car had pulled up and was unloading a crowd of people that would swallow her up if she didn’t move. Nowhere to go but forward to face her fears.
Lauren lifted the hem of her slinky red gown and climbed the steps to the entrance. At the door, a table was set up to collect tickets for the event.
“Tickets, ma’am?” the man sitting at the table asked. He was wearing a tuxedo with a Guy Fawkes mask.
“My name should be on the list,” she replied. “Lauren Roberts?”
He checked a paper he had beside him. “It’s showing it’s for a party of two. Are you expecting a guest?”
“No, it’s just me tonight.” Although she’d won two tickets, her personal life was so nonexistent she couldn’t scrape together a date in time for the party. She should’ve just brought Amy, but she knew she would have clung to her best friend all night. Lauren sighed. If she was going to make the most of tonight, she needed to get out of her comfort zone and talk to strangers.
“All the better for the single gentlemen here tonight,” the man said.
Lauren couldn’t see his expression behind his mask to see if he was joking. He sounded completely serious. The makeover must’ve worked wonders. Normally, she was completely under the radar of most men in this town. Invisible. Could highlights and a glamorous dress make that big of a difference?
“I’ll see you in there later, Miss Roberts.”
She wished her mask covered her whole face so he couldn’t see the awkward blush that was no doubt creeping up beneath her foundation. “Thank you,” she stammered and rushed past him into the club when no other valid response came to mind.
As she stepped through the doorway, the sound of music, laughter and voices called to her. She went down the hall, passing the office and the daycare center she didn’t remember being there before, and then stopped short as it opened up into the main room.
It was a lot like the last time she’d come. Dark lighting, loud music, a sea of bodies on the dance floor and loitering around the edges of the room. The difference was that these weren’t teenagers at a dance. They were adults. Rich ones. The kind that could invest in her restaurant, or at the very least become patrons someday. They weren’t going to play cruel pranks or laugh at her. They were just having a good time and raising money for charity. She needed to just blend in and have a good time, too.
The last thought propelled her forward.
“May I take your coat?” a younger girl asked as she manned the coat check.
Lauren slipped out of her leather jacket and handed it over. It didn’t exactly go with the red, beaded gown anyway, but October had brought an unexpected chill to the air. It was early for Texas, but she’d take it. Fall was her favorite time of year. She got to experiment with new seasonal flavors on the truck menus, find a pumpkin patch to explore, hand out candy to trick-or-treaters...and she wasn’t dying from the heat in the trucks each day.
She wanted a permanent storefront for her restaurant, even if just for the air-conditioning. When she was parked at a location, a generator would run some things, but not air. In the summer, that meant hot food, steamy trays and no respite from the heat, short of sticking her head in the refrigerator.
She took the coat check ticket from the girl and slipped it into her clutch. Scanning the room, she noticed the large, centralized bar and decided that should be her first stop. A drink would give her something to do with her hand, and if it loosened her up, all the better.
Nervously adjusting her Mardi Gras–style mask, Lauren took a deep breath and headed to the bar. She ordered a dirty martini with extra olives and scoped out a dark corner where she could stand and do a little people-watching until she felt more comfortable.
She’d never been to one of these charity galas at the club before. These kinds of parties were for rich ranching families to mingle and make nice tax deductions. A food truck chef normally didn’t have the time, energy or cash for something like this. As it was, she was already wincing at the cost of her drink. She supposed an open bar would cut too much into the charity’s bottom line.
Most of the people there didn’t seem to care. She’d overheard the man next to her at the bar tell the server to put it on his membership tab. A lot of others seemed to be doing that, too. The room was nearly filled to capacity with men in tuxedos and black Stetsons, women in sparkling gowns with ornately decorated masks. All of them had a cocktail in hand and a smile on their faces. At least, smiles on what you could see of their faces.
Masks were required for the event. At least, that was what the invitation said. Some wore smaller ones, Lone Ranger–style, which met the requirement, but you could still know who you were speaking to. She recognized a few people from around town even with them on. Others, like the man at the door, were wearing full-face masks. Lauren had opted for something in the middle, a black metal mask with ornate swirls cut out of it, that ended halfway down her face. It offered a little anonymity, but she didn’t have to remove it to drink or eat.
And, as her meddling friend Amy had suggested, she wouldn’t have to remove it to kiss, either.
Amy—ever the optimist when it came to Lauren’s nonexistent love life. As though a new dress and a mask were enough for Lauren to fall into the strong arms of a dark, anonymous stranger.
Speaking of which, movement out of the corner of her gaze caught Lauren’s attention. When she turned to look, she spied a tall drink of water heading toward her empty corner. He was wearing a beautifully tailo
red black tuxedo with a distinctive pewter wolf mask that brought out the platinum highlights in his cropped blond hair. All she could make out of his face was the hard square of his stubble-covered jaw and the flat line of displeasure that would otherwise be his mouth. The wolf wasn’t having a good time tonight.
He wasn’t looking at her. He had a cell phone pressed to one ear and his hand covering the other. If he was seeking privacy and quiet, he was out of luck. He glanced up at her for a moment, immediately dismissing her as he focused on his call and settled in the chair nearby.
Lauren wasn’t about to give up her space to the big, bad wolf. She’d found it first. Perhaps she would venture out into the crowd in a moment, but she was only three sips into her twelve-dollar martini and she wasn’t feeling bold enough quite yet.
But soon. She could feel the warmth of the alcohol spreading through her veins like the social lubricant that it was. Soon.
* * *
Sutton Wingate tried to check his troubles at the door tonight and have a good time, but they had still managed to follow him inside. Considering how things had gone the last few weeks, he wasn’t sure why he was surprised.
When the accusations against his family had cropped up, he had been the optimistic one. As the CFO of Wingate Enterprises, he would know if there was embezzling and drug smuggling happening behind the scenes. There wasn’t. It was just rumors fueled by jealousy and spite, and he was confident that eventually it would all blow over. He’d believed it right until the moment the Feds froze their assets, seized the ranch and put the whole family out on their asses.
Now he wasn’t feeling so optimistic.
So far, everyone had landed on their feet. He and his twin, Sebastian, had decided to rent a house together. Luke and Ezekiel found places to stay. And his mother, Ava, was staying with Keith Cooper, a fact that no doubt pleased “Uncle” Keith. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but they would persevere until they found out who was responsible for setting them up and their lives were returned to normal.
After Hours Redemption (404 Sound) Page 17
