The Wright One

by K. A. Linde

  Our lips were unhurried as they moved against each other.

  This wasn’t the feverish make-up sex we’d had last week.

  This was a claiming, a promise.

  He set me on my feet at the edge of the bed. His hazel eyes were like honey in the dim lighting, and his affections were just as smooth. With gentle care, he slipped his hands down my arms and over my waist before dropping to his knees before me. I exhaled on a hiss as he moved both hands up my calves and over my sensitive inner thighs. Then, he nudged my feet further apart.

  My inner walls clenched as he pushed me a little bit wider. His gaze found mine just as he reached the edge of my bubblegum-pink thong. He slipped one finger under the material and ran it around the edges from top to bottom, stopping right before he reached the place I really wanted him. I tried to push him back toward my opening, but he ignored my attempt. Apparently, he was going to take his time. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a willing participant. I desperately wanted him to go fast, fast, fast, but slow, so slow, was making me soak through my thong.

  His finger hooked into the top of the material and drew them down my legs. I stepped out of them at his insistence. He casually tossed them behind himself before moving back between my legs. One hand moved to grasp my ass while his other made the journey back up my inner thighs.

  I groaned with impatience and need. He was teasing me, and I fucking loved it. And wanted it over. Fuck, I wanted to yield control to him, and at the same time, I wanted to throw him down on the floor and fuck his brains out.

  Then, one finger slipped between my folds and found out just how wet I was from his ministrations.

  “Mmm,” he said approvingly, slicking his finger before moving to my clit and stroking me in circles.

  I couldn’t even buck or move out of his embrace with the way he held me captive. I could only stand there, legs wide, as he stroked my clit until I was gasping for breath. I was close. So fucking close. I could have tipped over the edge just from him playing with my clit, but as I felt my walls contracting, he pulled back.

  “No!” I gasped.

  He laughed, coming to his feet, still fully fucking clothed. “Take your dress off and lie on your back.” He tugged his shirt off, and then as I started to crawl onto the bed, he amended, “Legs spread.”

  I flushed at his command, but I was ready to touch myself to get off at this point, so I did as I had been told. I’d pay him back later. A flush crept onto my cheeks as I lay back on the bed, opened my legs before him, and sat there and watched him strip out of his clothes. Slowly. One fucking piece at a time.

  Then, when he was fully undressed, his cock jutting toward me, he grasped my hips in his hands and jerked me to the end of the bed. I squeaked in surprise. My ass was nearly hanging off the edge. My fingers dug into the comforter for support. And my body was begging for everything he was going to give me.

  To my shock, he sank back onto his knees, and before I could utter a word, he buried his face between my legs. His tongue laved across my clit, alternating between flicking and sucking. I started to close my legs as my climax approached again. But he was having none of that. My heart stuttered and body throbbed in pleasure as he forced my legs open wider.

  “Oh God,” I groaned. “Please let me come. Dear fucking God, I’m begging you, David.”

  His fingers trailed down my thigh and then to the opening of my pussy. He inserted two inside me, curving them as he pulled them back out. It took three strokes of his fingers while his mouth was on my clit before I came in a sea of starlight. My vision going dark and then blasting out into the heavens. My entire body convulsed. My heart galloped ahead of me.

  The next thing I heard was screaming. And I realized it was me.

  My legs dropped to the sides, trembling. My eyes gradually opened, half-lidded and sex-drunk. I could still feel my heart beating in my abdomen.

  “My…my turn,” I offered, dazed.

  “Oh no, Sut,” he said with a lazy smile. “Making you come multiple times tonight is my pleasure.”

  I laughed deliriously. “Where did you come from?”

  He leaned over me, resting his elbows on either side of my body. “You’re in my city. This is where I came from. But you’re home.”

  Then, with a gentleness my still-pulsing center needed, he drove forward into me. I moaned, and he smothered it with a kiss. I wrapped my arms and legs tight around his body, keeping him close so that we were pressed together as one. He started up a steady rhythm.

  Touching every part of me.

  My body.

  My heart.

  My soul.

  He filled me to bursting. Giving as much as he was getting. Taking as much as I was offering.

  The moment felt final.

  Not an ending, but a beginning.

  An understanding that there was no going back from here.

  He released my lips to look down on me as he picked up the pace. Our bodies were flushed and warm. My heart full. And I saw everything he’d ever felt, everything he’d ever wanted to say to me, everything in his eyes. They were windows to the devotion he was showing me. To the person he’d become to be with me. To the openness he’d never had with anyone else.

  And I was starting anew.

  No longer defined by what I’d lost.

  But what I had gained.

  And, when we finished together, lost to our passion, I felt truly whole once more.

  Twelve

  Sutton

  I had been nervous about spending three full hours alone with Katherine at the spa the next day, but it was actually wonderful. David had had to be exaggerating about his sister. She clearly lived a different life than my own. When she’d discovered I worked at a bakery, she’d been completely flummoxed. I could tell that she was feeling me out, trying to figure out who I was and where I fit in to David’s life. Not that I blamed her. I did the same thing to each of my brother’s girlfriends. But I actually was shocked to say that I liked her.

  That was even more surprising, considering she was a Van Pelt. I’d been certain I’d hate all of them. Now, here I was in a floor-length dress, going to a gala event with them. What a topsy-turvy world.

  “Stop fidgeting,” Katherine said, rapping my hand in the backseat. “He’s going to go crazy when he sees you.”

  I dropped my hands to the sides and smiled at Katherine. “Are we going to pick up Camden, too?”

  She frowned. “No. We’re meeting him at the MET.”

  I arched an eyebrow in her direction. I was interested in meeting Katherine’s fiancé. David had told me that he was a bit of a jackass from his limited experience with him. But Katherine’s clear distaste made no sense. Why marry a guy you clearly hated?

  “Oh, there he is! Hop out, so he can see the dress,” Katherine said, all but pushing me out of the limo.

  I laughed back at her as I stumbled forward, careful not to stick my heel into the back of the dress. It had been a while since I wore anything like this. My life was full of one precocious toddler and his everyday antics. It wasn’t exactly designer dresses and Louboutin high heels.

  But, once I was outside, those years of cotillion kicked back in. It was a bit like riding a bike. I stood straighter, let one foot move in front of the other, and pushed my shoulders back. I’d gone with a floor-length honey-yellow silk dress that fell off my narrow shoulders. My hair was swept up off my face, and my makeup was glamorous with pretty pink lipstick.

  I felt like a million bucks, and when David caught a glimpse of me standing in front of the limo, it made all those hours at the spa worth it. His eyes gleamed with delight. His jaw dropped open on sight. And his body shifted in response, as if his world had tilted.

  And mine had, too. Because David was wearing a perfectly cut black tuxedo that fit him like a dream.

  “Wow,” he said when he finally reached me.

  “Wow yourself.” I ran my hand down the front of his lapel. “Love the tux.”

  “And that dre
ss,” he breathed. “You look stunning.”

  “Thank you. After all that time at the spa, I should look decent.”

  “You always look better than decent.” He placed a quick kiss on my lips. “But, tonight, you’re glowing.”

  I smiled broadly up at him, and then he held the door open for me to get back into the limo. David followed close behind.

  “You did a great job,” he said to Katherine, gesturing to me.

  “I am skilled, but I had a great canvas.”

  I laughed. “I was your project for the day?”

  “Of course. These people expect something, and I wanted to give it to them.”

  “I don’t think anyone expects anything from me.”

  Katherine arched an eyebrow. “Hardly.” She caught David’s eye. “Haven’t you told her what it’s really like? Especially for someone new?”

  “It’ll be fine,” David said, taking my hand.

  “Well, yes, I made sure of that.” Katherine smiled brilliantly at me. “Don’t worry; David’s probably right. I’ll be with you.”

  I didn’t know what that meant. I’d seen plenty of these sorts of things on TV before. I’d been to so many events back home. It couldn’t be that different.

  Our driver pulled up in front of the MET a few minutes later and swiftly walked around to open the door. David went first and offered me his hand. I securely placed it in his to make sure I didn’t make an idiot of myself. Then, I stepped out onto the sidewalk.

  The MET was gorgeous—all white with dozens of stairs and long red banners hanging down between the columns. I was surprised to see a host of photographers congregated together and an array of tourists who had gathered to stare at us as we exited our vehicles.

  “What is this for again?” I whispered to David.

  “A charity, I’m sure.”

  I opened my mouth to ask which charity when Katherine stepped out of the limousine, and suddenly, I could hardly hear myself think. The photographers rushed forward toward the limo, cameras flashing, microphones raised, questions being asked. Katherine smiled coyly at them and then drifted forward toward the stairs. She waved at a handful of people and stopped for a photograph here and there, but otherwise, we just followed in her impressive wake.

  “What did you say Katherine does?” I murmured.

  “She’s a socialite. She has her own perfume and helps with charities and sits in the front row during Fashion Week. It pains me to say it, but she’s kind of an it girl.”

  And she was. That was clear, as it seemed every person nearby knew who she was. She waved at another couple and chatted briefly with a friend. She was her own orbit.

  “I feel out of the loop,” I admitted.

  “It’s a New York thing. It’s not like she’s in movies or TV or anything. This circle runs tight, and a lot of people don’t know who anyone here is unless they either do something horrible or something extraordinary.”

  David hadn’t been wrong when he told me that he’d show me his world. And it was a whole new world. I might as well have been flying on a magic carpet.

  It didn’t matter that I had a trust fund the size of the state of Texas. Old money New York was a beast in itself.

  But, beyond my own confusion over Katherine’s big entrance, my own eyes were wide with excitement. This was kind of like walking through a dream. I kept expecting to wake up and find myself back in Lubbock, taking care of a toddler and working at the bakery. The glitz and glamour was fun for a night. Even though it wasn’t my life, I could enjoy the extravagance of it all. Remember what it was like to have no cares in the world.

  We finally made it up the stairs, through the MET, and into the European Sculpture Court. Designed to look like a French garden, seventeenth-century sculptures dotted the landscape and lined the walls. High-top tables were clustered into trios at various integrals, a bar was set up on either side of the room, and waiters were floating around with hors d’oeuvres and wine. It was stunning. While I’d been to the museum before, it had been some time, and I definitely had not adequately appreciated the artwork.

  Katherine looped her arm into mine just as a waiter appeared before us. We each snagged a glass of champagne and then strolled deeper into the crowd swarming the exhibit. David followed at my side.

  “What do you think?” he asked with a smile.

  “It’s amazing.”

  He nodded and glanced around, as if he were just remembering why all of this was so incredible. He’d been so cynical about his life, but it couldn’t have all been bad.

  We’d only made it a few feet into the room when a man stepped right into our line of vision. He had cunning eyes and a mocking smile. His tuxedo accentuated his broad shoulders and built frame. He was handsome and clearly knew it.

  “Hello, Katherine,” he said, taking her hand and placing a kiss on it. “My darling.”

  Katherine’s smile was equally contemptuous, as if she were playing charades. “Camden.”

  Ah, the elusive Camden.

  He clutched her hand in his and drew her closer. “Have you missed me terribly? It must have been such a tragedy to be without me this week.”

  “Terribly,” she said as crisp as the Evil Queen’s apple and just as poisonous.

  “And what have we here?” He slid his gaze to David but never released Katherine. He moved his hand to her waist and held her—not…warmly, but more like he was keeping her in her rightful place. “Why…David Van Pelt. What a surprise.”

  “Camden,” David said with a head nod. “This is my girlfriend, Sutton Wright. Sutton, Camden Percy.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I said, offering him my hand.

  Camden looked me up and down in the way that a viper might assess a mouse. Then, he forcefully shook my hand once.

  He eyed Katherine. “I assume this is your doing.”

  “Be nice,” Katherine warned.

  “I’m always nice.” The lie cut like glass.

  I tipped back my champagne to ignore the awkwardness. David had been exaggerating about Katherine but not about Camden. He was worse than David had made him seem. Every word was carefully chosen. Every syllable a mockery. It was stifling to be in his presence.

  “You’re a scoundrel,” Katherine told him.

  “I can’t help it when you bring rabble into our midst and dress it up to look like class,” he spat back.

  I nearly choked on my champagne. “Rabble?”

  “Nouveau riche,” he clarified. “Don’t take it personally. All new money has a look.”

  And the way he’d said it, it was clear he didn’t think it was a good look.

  “Enough,” David said, low and menacing.

  “It’s fine,” I assured him. “I don’t have to justify myself or how much money my family has to anyone. Let alone him.”

  “I didn’t ask for a justification,” Camden said, squeezing Katherine’s side. “I just pointed out that Oscar de la Renta doesn’t hide that you don’t belong here.”

  My cheeks bloomed pink with humiliation. The words hit me harder than they should have. Not because I wanted to belong in this strange world. But because he was pointing out the fact when I’d finally gotten comfortable in this skin Katherine had pasted over my own. I was here for fun, and now, I felt unwelcome.

  “I said, that’s enough,” David said.

  “What? If I hurt her feelings, will this one kill herself, too?” Camden asked with a sneer.

  I gasped at the words.

  But David saw red.

  One minute, he was at my side; the next minute, he was flying across the space and ramming his fist into Camden Percy’s face.

  Thirteen

  David

  “David, no!” Sutton cried.

  She grabbed on to my sleeve to pull me away from Camden. Katherine gasped and stepped out of the way of the fight.

  I was still up in Camden’s face. He looked like he was ready to take a swing back at me. I hadn’t broken his nose, but I’d fucking wanted to.
That bastard, bringing that shit up to me in public, all casual as if it didn’t still haunt me that Holli was dead. He was a dick. I had known that, going into this. I’d figured he’d say some shit about Sutton having the wrong kind of money, but I hadn’t expected him to bring up ancient history.

  I could feel eyes upon us from all directions. I knew I should step back, but man, I wanted to lay him out. How could Katherine marry him when he was such an atrocious human being?

  “David!” Sutton yelled at me again.

  My eyes flitted to her. She looked so frantic, so desperate. And that was the instant I knew that I’d stepped over the line. Fuck, I hated this guy.

  I instantly backed away. “You’re not worth it,” I finally said.

  “I was just speaking the truth,” Camden spat.

  “Your truth is laced with arsenic.”

  Camden shrugged and stuffed his hands into his pockets. His jawline was already swelling from where I’d hit him. My hand was throbbing, not that I’d ever let him see it.

  Sutton stepped between us and glared at Camden, as if he weren’t a Percy who owned more hotels than the Hiltons. “You’re right; I don’t belong here. But, if that means, I don’t belong near you either, then I’d say that’s a win.”

  Then, she held on to my arm and promptly marched us to the other side of the room. It wasn’t until we were standing next to another naked sculpture that I realized her hands were shaking.

  “Well, he’s a royal jackass,” Sutton grumbled.

  “Understatement.” I shook my hand out. One of the knuckles had split, and I hadn’t even hit him as hard as I should have.

  “You shouldn’t have let him bait you like that.”

  “I didn’t let him bait me,” I told her. “I’d expected most of that conversation. I hadn’t expected him to bring up Holli. My anger got the best of me.”

  “I understand that,” she said on a sigh. “What he said was horrible.”

  “Yes, especially because what he said was untrue. No one was mean to Holli. She didn’t kill herself because she was bullied. She did it because she was depressed, and this world fucking ruined her.”