Girl on a Diamond Pedestal

by Maisey Yates

  To run his hands over her curves, delight in the fact that there was more to come. Sweeter. Sexier. Smoother. Drawing it out was heightening his pleasure in ways he’d never imagined it could.

  He was so lost in the simple act of kissing her that he didn’t know the limo had pulled back up to the hotel until she pulled away from him.

  “We’re here.”

  “Yeah. Damn. I’m tempted to ask the driver to drive around the block a few times.”

  “A bed would be a decent idea,” she said softly.

  “One day though, we’ll have to give the limo a go.”

  “Promise.”

  He opened the door and took her hand, drawing her out with him to the neon-lit entryway of the hotel. He watched as the colors alternated, white and red, casting different hues over her pale features.

  “You really do belong in the spotlight,” he said, his throat tight.

  “I don’t want the spotlight just now,” she said, running her hands down his arms, the gesture innocuous but, in that moment, with her, enough to make his knees want to buckle.

  “I don’t either.”

  He took her hand in his again and walked quickly through the lobby, not caring if people stared, or if they knew just where they were going and what they were going to do.

  Nothing mattered but Noelle. Having her. Being with her. Being in her.

  During the elevator ride he was tempted to just hit the stop button and finish it there. But he wanted more than that. Longer than that. He wanted all night. To take her to bed and not get back up for at least twelve hours.

  That sounded close to heaven.

  When the elevator doors opened they moved across the hall to their suite door. His hands shook as he pushed the card into the lock.

  He closed the door and she leaned against it, a slight smile on her lips.

  “Noelle,” he said. It was the only word he could think to say. It was the only word in his mind.

  She kept her eyes locked with his, so sincere. So beautiful. She gripped the hem of her black tank top and pulled it over her head, revealing a simple black bra that shouldn’t be anywhere near as sexy as it was. But it was hotter than any French lingerie he’d ever seen.

  “I’ve never seen a more beautiful woman. And I mean that,” he said.

  “I’ve never seen a more beautiful man,” she replied. “Return the favor already.”

  She didn’t have to ask twice. He pulled his T-shirt over his head, gratified that she was affected by the sight of his body. Her breathing was more labored now, her cleavage rising and falling sharply.

  “Your turn,” he said.

  She smiled and pushed that ridiculous leopard skirt down her hips, shimmying slightly as she worked the tight fabric over her curves. She was wearing a black … oh, he hoped it was a thong … that matched her bra.

  “Your turn,” she repeated.

  He reached for the snap on his jeans, lowered the zip, his eyes on hers. They were round and riveted on his body. She didn’t even try to hide her interest. Her reactions were honest, her desire for him easily seen.

  It only made him hotter. Harder.

  He shrugged his jeans down, along with his underwear, and kicked them to the side. The look on Noelle’s face was enough to finish him then and there. She looked … fascinated, and hungry at the same time and it was doing things to him that he couldn’t put a name to.

  He closed the distance between them and locked his hands around her wrists, drawing her arms up over her head, against the door, as he pressed his chest against her breasts and kissed her. She arched against him, her hip brushing his erection.

  He let out a rough groan and deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue against hers, reveling in the slick friction.

  She wiggled against him. “Let me go.”

  “Why?” he kissed her shoulder.

  “So I can undo my bra.”

  He licked the curve of her neck and blew against it, taking deep, masculine satisfaction in her shivered response. “I can do that.” He used his free hand to snap the clasp open on her bra, letting it fall loose.

  “It can’t come off if you keep holding me prisoner.”

  “But I can work with this.” He pushed the silky material up and revealed her breasts. He cupped her, sliding his thumb over her nipple. “Oh yeah, I can work with this.”

  She arched against him. “Ethan.”

  “What?”

  “More. I can’t wait.”

  “Patience is a virtue.”

  “I don’t want to be patient.”

  “I’ve been patient,” he said, lowering his head and flicking the tip of his tongue over her nipple. “I’ve been patient all day. It won’t hurt you to wait.”

  She sucked in a sharp breath. “I think it will.”

  “I won’t hurt you. I promise.” He meant physically. He wished he could promise it in a deeper way. That he could swear he would slay her dragons and make everything better. But he was no white knight. Come to that, Noelle wasn’t a princess locked in a tower. She was a woman. One who could take care of herself.

  And that was something he found comfort in. Because God knew he wasn’t up to the task.

  He ignored the fierce tearing sensation in his chest and focused instead on her body. On touching her. Loving her. This was the way he knew how to do it. The best he could give. And he would give it all.

  He abandoned her breasts and tugged her panties down her legs, sliding his fingers through the pale curls at the apex of her thighs, rubbing her moisture over her clitoris.

  “Ethan …” His name was a plea on her lips and he couldn’t get enough.

  His whole body was hard, tense, needy. But he needed to give to her first. Needed her to take every last bit of pleasure that she could. He needed to give it to her.

  Her lips parted, her head moving back and forth as he stroked her. She arched her body against his again, pressing herself more firmly against his hand. He penetrated her slowly with one finger and felt her tighten around him, a short sound of pleasure escaping her lips.

  He let her ride out her orgasm and then slowly released his hold on her wrists. She slumped down the wall an inch, her breathing coming out in short, sharp gasps.

  She moved and let her bra fall to the floor, then stepped out of her panties. She was naked now, so perfect. His wife.

  His stomach tightened. It was so hard to breathe. Noelle was his wife. And it should make no difference to anything, because she wasn’t his wife in any real sense. But it did. It suddenly made everything seem different.

  So he kissed her again, because that felt good. It made sense.

  And when he laid her down on the bed, he tried not to look into her eyes. Tried not to give in to the intense tugging sensation in his chest. But he couldn’t manage either. He looked at her, and he felt like he was drowning. It was like he was completely submerged in Noelle.

  He took a condom from the bedside table drawer, an amenity always stocked at this hotel as well, and tore it open quickly, protecting them both. He put his hand on her hip and steadied her as he slid slowly into her.

  He had to grit his teeth, hard, to keep from coming then and there, as she enveloped him. Body and soul.

  She moved with him, against him, creating a rhythm he couldn’t deny. He had no control here. He was lost, and all he could do was let go, let himself get sucked down into the undertow. He didn’t have the strength to fight it. And he didn’t want to.

  He wanted Noelle. Only Noelle.

  Always.

  His orgasm roared through him, tore at him like a beast before it overwhelmed him completely. It went beyond pleasure, beyond anything he’d ever known. It consumed him. She consumed him.

  They lay together, her head on his chest, smooth hands stroking him.

  “Did you … sorry, I know you came against the door but did you …”

  “Twice,” she said.

  “I’m usually a bit more considerate but this time … I couldn’t thi
nk.”

  “That’s okay.”

  It wasn’t though. It was wrong. He needed to keep his head on straight. To have everything organized and together for his acquisition of Grey’s. He didn’t need to be obsessed with a woman.

  More than that, he needed Grey’s to matter. He would finally be able to see his father’s face as he pulled the rug from under him, and it had to matter. Because it was all he had. It was everything he’d been working toward for years.

  But right now, it felt like it didn’t matter at all.

  Noelle rolled over and blinked. It was early in the morning. And Ethan wasn’t in bed. It didn’t surprise her for some reason. Something had happened last night. And she wasn’t sure if it was good or bad. Only that, for a brief moment, Ethan had looked … terrified.

  It was all right. It only reflected what she felt.

  Terror because Ethan had a part of herself she wasn’t sure she could ever get back. Funny though, because he’d also helped her find pieces of herself she hadn’t known existed. He had changed her. Or at least helped her figure out some ways to change herself.

  It was scary to want someone so much. Scary but amazing. And it made her feel that she wasn’t alone.

  She got up and reached for the light switch. It illuminated the glossy, opaque glass wall opposite the bed, making it mostly transparent. She could see Ethan’s silhouette. Naked. She was getting a view of his shower.

  “Luxury hotel indeed,” she said.

  She watched as his hands slid over his body, her heart rate increasing. There was a certain illicit thrill in watching him like this. Was it what he’d felt watching her play the first time? When she hadn’t known he’d watched her? Well, she hadn’t been naked but she’d been bare in a way.

  If only she could get more than just a sexual thrill from watching him. If only she knew what he was thinking. She felt her nipples tighten, her body aching to have him touch her, not simply to watch him as he touched himself.

  She swallowed hard and walked across the room. She was naked, and she wasn’t embarrassed. There was no way for her to be embarrassed. Not with Ethan. She was more herself with him than she’d ever been in her life.

  She walked into the expansive bathroom and stood in front of the glass shower door. Ethan looked up, water running down his face, his perfect body, the droplets dipping and pooling into the well-defined grooves between his muscles.

  “Hi. May I join you?”

  He smiled, a purely wicked smile. “Always.”

  He kissed her, but differently than he had last night. More controlled. She tried to look at him, catch his eye, but she couldn’t.

  “Ethan?” He looked at her then. For just a moment. And what she saw in his dark eyes made her feel shaky. There was an emptiness there, a distance that didn’t seem right.

  But then he kissed her again. And his lips were so perfect. And the water was hot and soothing, and Ethan’s touch was slick and arousing. So she focused on that.

  And she tried to forget the horrible, haunted look in his dark eyes.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “WE’RE going to a small event in one of the high-roller areas tonight. Very exclusive.”

  Ethan rolled out of bed and Noelle watched each fluid movement with interest. The way his body worked, his muscle structure, his tan skin. It was all so deliciously different from hers. So very sexy. The kind of thing people wrote songs about.

  She’d spent the majority of the day exploring it, but it hadn’t gotten old. Not even close. The really scary thing was that he was only more enticing now that she knew him so well. Now that she knew just how good things were between them. Now, looking at him made her shiver with the anticipation of pleasure to come.

  She was a lost cause.

  “We are?”

  “Yes. Our debut as a married couple.”

  For some reason that made her feel … she wasn’t sure how it made her feel. Nervous and edgy somehow. She didn’t feel ready to go and face people. Not knowing she loved him. Not after everything she’d given him. It felt so personal, and yet she felt as if she was wearing it, as bright and bold as any neon sign on the strip.

  “Okay. I don’t really have anything to wear.”

  “That’s fine. I saw something I liked down in one of the hotel shops yesterday. I’m having it sent up.”

  She watched as Ethan dressed, as he covered the body she craved. He still looked good dressed. Though she’d rather picture him naked.

  “I can pick my own dress …”

  “And buy it too?”

  His words cut much deeper than they should. “You know I can’t.”

  “Then you’ll wear what I pick out.”

  “Why are you acting like this?”

  He breathed in deeply. “Like what?”

  “A jerk.”

  “I’m just … this is a big thing tonight.”

  “You never let pressure get to you, Ethan.”

  “Then I’m allowed a day, aren’t I?”

  She tried to smile. “Of course. How long until this … thing?”

  “Sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I got the call earlier when I went to order lunch for us. But it starts in a couple of hours.”

  “That’s fine. I’m not that high-maintenance.”

  “No. I know.”

  The look on his face was strange, that cool distance still present in his eyes. She wanted to erase it. Wanted to bring back the warm man she knew and loved. But he seemed pretty determined to stay gone.

  “I suppose I should take a shower. A non-peek-a-boo shower.”

  He gave her a wicked half smile and for a moment, she could see Ethan again. “I make no guarantees.”

  “I have to shave my legs.”

  “You fight dirty. And yet, I don’t feel detoured.”

  “What am I going to do with you?”

  His eyes darkened, his expression going flat. “I could ask you the same question.”

  The dress should have been illegal. He regretted choosing it. It was sexy in an overt way, and at the time, that had been the point. All of this had a point. He was feeling pretty regretful of the whole deal at the moment, at least the part he’d cast Noelle in, but it was too late to back out now.

  This was why Noelle was in his life. This was what he’d married her for. He was letting it get muddled in finer feelings and things he had no business dwelling on. He needed to focus on the prize.

  Tonight was the night to do just that. He would get what he needed, what he deserved. Tonight was the reason they were in Vegas. And he’d kept it from her. He was a bastard.

  “This dress is a bit OTT, don’t you think?” she whispered as he keyed in the passcode and pressed the elevator button that would get them to the exclusive high-roller’s lounge.

  “OTT?” he asked.

  “Over the top,” she tugged the tight black hem down, trying to get it to cover more of her legs.

  “Not in the least. You look every bit the young, hot celebrity. And just like the sort of woman who could entice me into a quickie Vegas wedding.”

  “Is that the game, then?”

  “You know it is.” He put his finger on the button again. As if it might make things move faster. As if it might make the whole night move faster. So he could get on with it. So he could get Noelle out of his life and back to normal.

  He ignored the sick, tight feeling in his chest.

  “Yeah,” she said softly. “I know.”

  And she didn’t sound happy. Damn it that he cared. Damn her for making him care.

  Why wasn’t she what he’d just said? A pretty ornament. A decoration. Why was she so much more? All kinds of extra stuff he didn’t need or want from her or anyone else. Why was he letting her split his focus? She was making him doubt what he was about to do, when it had been part of the plan from moment one.

  The lift doors opened and he felt his scalp get tight, continuing down through his chest, his stomach. It was like he didn’t fit inside himself anym
ore. He just wanted to climb out of his skin. He would have done, if he could. He didn’t know why he didn’t feel like himself anymore, why he felt so wrong. And so right. That was the really fearsome thing. He felt more right just standing with Noelle than he ever had before she’d come into his life.

  He took her hand in his and led her from the elevator, trying to ignore the slow, spreading sensation of fire that began where their skin touched and made a direct trail to his chest. To his heart.

  The hall leading to the high-roller room was long and narrow, the walls black, sleek and glossy, the carpet bright red. Something to make the people who used the casino feel like celebrities.

  There were so many things about the place he didn’t like. It was more his father’s style. Maybe when the ownership of Grey’s was transferred to him he would change it. Fix it. But then, this made money. It wasn’t really about his taste.

  The tacky would probably have to stay. The marks his father had put on the place would stay.

  Something he’d have to get used to.

  He looked at her again one last time before he opened the door to the private room. She was perfect, blond hair sleek, makeup expertly applied. Her wedding and engagement rings glittered on her well manicured hand.

  She was the epitome of a trophy wife.

  Thinking of her that way made him feel … it was wrong. They were partners. But tonight she would be playing trophy wife.

  “Ready?”

  She smiled. “Sure.”

  He opened the door and revealed an expansive room, all high-gloss and gold-plated. The true mark of nouveau riche. Overdone, overstated.

  The room was crowded with couples, men who had women draped over them, fawning. One woman at the blackjack table had two men draped on her arm. A refreshing change, to Ethan’s way of thinking. It was the only thing refreshing about the scene.

  The rest of it was more of the same. People using other people for money. For sex. The kind of shallow existence his family seemed to aspire to.

  That he aspired to. Except what he wanted was different. It was.

  He scanned the crowd, past the gaming tables. His father was in the corner, a blond probably close to Noelle’s age on his arm.

  “This way,” he said, tugging gently on Noelle’s hand, leading her through the crowd.