by Cari Quinn
She could have let Sparks escape the party so very easily.
Sparks looked over his shoulder, his face in profile. He wouldn’t actually face them. His full lips flattened into a line.
Her skin started to tingle. Burning from the inside out.
Sparks didn’t say another word, just nodded and disappeared through the doorway into the throbbing heart of the party.
Tristan’s arm tightened around her and his lips brushed her cheek, then the line of her jaw. “Is this what you want?”
She nodded.
“I need you to say the words, Juliet.” He gripped her other hand at her side.
She swallowed and rested her head on his chest. She trailed her nails over his forearm. The slick material gave under her nails. The sinewy muscle of his forearms flexed with each inch she covered.
This was what she wanted.
Soft and strong with a side of intensity. She wanted this man to open her up and fill her until there was no doubt she was making the right choice. She dragged the hand at her waist up to cup her breast. His long, elegant fingers molded over the lined breastplate of her costume and teased the curve of flesh that plumped over the top.
“Wonder Woman never lies, right?”
“Is that the way it goes?” He flicked the lasso at her hip. “I could always use this to make sure.” He edged her hair away with his chin, his breath on her neck.
“You can, if you like.” She went onto her toes and nipped his jaw. “But the answer will remain the same.”
His eyes met hers. The time for play had gone.
She licked her lips. “Yes. So much yes.”
Four
Tristan’s fingers slid up her chest to her neck and danced lightly around her throat. Her dark eyes were nearly black in the low light. Her pupils were wide with an answering lust he wasn’t going to question.
Even if an itch bloomed between his shoulder blades.
Relief coursed through him that Rand hadn’t left the party. There had been something simmering between his best friend and Jules. Something that cautioned him to step away.
Then she’d touched him.
Her nails dug into his skin and brought his focus back to them. Only them. The need to bury himself balls deep overrode everything else. The princess of Warning Sign had been labeled untouchable by Rand, but not by him.
He was more than ready to lay waste to the aloof smile she gave people. To hear her husky voice crack because of him. To hear his name on the cries she screamed at the ceiling.
He crowded her into the hall, and then toward the top of the stairway. A small alcove afforded them a bird’s eye view of the crowd below. She gripped the railing as he dragged his teeth up her neck. He pushed her hair over her other shoulder, the inky dark waves flowing over her mouthwatering breasts.
“I could make you come right here.” She shuddered against him. “I could just shift these pants over with two fingers. No one could really see. They’re not really paying attention.”
He groaned as a couple dressed as Harley Quinn and Joker thundered up the stairs. Okay, so maybe not.
Juliet’s knuckles went white on the rail.
“Plan B,” he murmured. “Your room.”
She nodded. “Plan B sounds good.”
He scanned what was left of the reception. Callie and Owen were still dancing, but now in a slow circle. A bubble that was just them and no one else. His gaze tripped over the handful of people he knew and found Rand at the bar. He was chatting up a girl.
The tightening bands between his shoulders eased. His buddy would be hooking up in no time.
Tristan melted into the shadows and drew Juliet out of the shimmering purple lights toward the final flight of stairs. Clasping his hand, she led the way up and headed into the dimly lit hallway. Surefooted enough to relax him and rev his system at the same time.
He liked a woman who took what she wanted.
She took a left near the end of the hall and he pressed her into the door. “Plan B is nice and out of the way.”
“Handy, isn’t it?” She twisted in his arms, linking her hands at the back of his waist.
He turned the knob and toed the door open. He walked her inside, his cape curling around them both. Their steps were in sync, like a dance with steps only they knew. She was shorter, but her legs seemed endless, thanks to her outfit. It was no more revealing than a bathing suit, but somehow more intriguing.
He kicked the door shut and reached over his shoulder to the hidden button for the cape. He tossed it on the bed, then grinned down at her. “Now where were we?”
She shook back her long hair and went onto her toes. Their mouths met in a maelstrom of lips and sliding tongues. She slid her hands up his sides and over his chest before boosting herself up enough to wrap her legs around his hips.
“Fuck,” he mumbled against her mouth. He filled his palms with her magnificent ass, then twisted them so he could set her on the bed.
His damn costume was like a big fucking condom. He’d have to peel himself out of it, and right then, he much preferred to focus on her.
She smelled like plums soaked in chocolate. He covered her, burying his face in her neck. Anything to inhale more of her scent. She arched up against him, one leg hooking around his ass. Her heel dug into him, urging him higher. Or maybe it was lower, since he was in a Juliet haze.
He clutched the back of her neck, fisting her hair to pull her head back. Her creamy skin gleamed in the moonlight. He scraped his teeth down the column of her neck to the fragile skin of her collarbone.
Restlessly, she undulated against him.
“You’re so goddamn ready for me, baby. If I push aside that very lucky piece of the flag, I bet I’d find you dripping.”
“I don’t take sucker bets,” she said with a hiss.
He grinned up at her before tracing his tongue along the eagle logo framing out her breasts. No fake tits for her. These were warm, soft handfuls of perfection.
He reached under her and found a dozen hooks along the middle of her back to her spine. “Shit.”
“Yeah, really caged in there.” Her laughter ended in a groan.
He drew down one of the points to find a raspberry nipple pushing up against the sturdy costume. He swiped his thumb under the material and she sucked in a quick breath.
“Yeah, that needs to come off.” He let the red and gold material go, mourning the loss of the visual perfection of her tits. He braced himself on the bed and pushed up to kneel between her glorious thighs. No pantyhose on this girl. Just perfectly tanned legs with just enough muscle to dry his mouth.
His life was one tactile job after another. To know when something was ripe, when food needed to be cured longer, when a cream sauce was at the perfect consistency—all of that was laid to waste against the silky firmness of her thighs. He dragged his fingertips over her inner legs, drawing them even wider apart. When that still didn’t give him enough space to play, he lifted her a few inches and shoved her farther up the bed.
“Work on those bitchy snaps you’ve got going on back there, and I’ll just start down here.”
She sat up, her huge dark eyes peeking from the heavy fall of hair that always seemed to tumble forward around her face. Bangs that had been previously pushed back with product now framed her features, making her look impossibly young. Enough that he actually slowed down.
“Jules? You want this, right?”
She nodded and pushed her hair back. “So much. More than you could know.”
He traced lazy circles along her inner thighs and smiled at her. “Then baby, you’re in for it, because I’ve wanted this too.” He went into figure eights, climbing higher to the pattern of white stars over his ultimate goal.
She fell back onto her elbows and watched him. He’d kissed away her dark lipstick, leaving her full lips bruised and swollen. When she worried her lower lip with her teeth, he groaned. He’d end up moving this along way too fast if he got any more riled up.
&n
bsp; “Those hooky things, woman. Get to it.”
Juliet sat up. “Yes, sir.” She twisted her arms behind her back, pushing her breasts out even farther. Not at all helping his situation. He slid off the bed to kneel at the end and dragged her down to his mouth.
She yelped out a laugh, then a groan as he covered her pussy, tonguing against the satiny costume. “I can feel how wet you are.” He tugged at the material until it snapped back against her. Instead of dragging his fingers along the stretchy edges, he nosed his way down the skin where her thigh met satin. “So warm.” He flicked over her delicate flesh. “Hooks, Juliet.”
“Right.” She went to work on the back of her costume. He watched her tits spill over the top, the gold crest hanging on for dear life.
He wanted it out of the way, but the anticipation was as heady as the goal. He focused his attention on the blue and white stars moving millimeter by millimeter. Damn, she was gorgeous. He couldn’t resist slowly swiping his tongue across her flesh. Salty and dark, her taste exploded in his mouth.
The plum scent deepened. Impatient for more, he flipped his hands under her ass and up to her hips. He peeled down the high-waisted material to find a pair of skimpy nude panties.
They were see-through with lace climbing up to wrap around her thigh and thread between her cheeks.
Fuck, why bother?
He tossed her costume bottoms over his shoulder, then spread his hand along her flat belly. Her skin was taut and as soft as satin. He dipped his fingers into the top of her panties and tugged them down enough for him to dip his thumb along her slit. “Oh, hell. So wet. Wet for me, baby?” He looked up in time to see the last clasp open and the red and gold bustier fall away.
Distracted, he lunged forward and filled his hands with her. He sucked one tight nipple between his teeth, then offered the same attention to the other. She collapsed back onto her elbows and watched him suck on her. He couldn’t stop.
Her heavenly tits were heavy enough to push together. His cock would look amazing sliding between them.
He groaned, trying to ignore his dick. The Lycra of the suit kept it good and trapped against his belly. Soon enough, he’d be free and fill her up. He’d fuck her until he could breathe around the wanting of her again.
Instead, he flicked his thumbnails against her tight nipples. He almost lightened his touch. He didn’t want to get rough with her, but she seemed to like it. Hell, she seemed to need it. The harder he sucked, the more she cried out.
He moved back down, coasting his mouth over her ribs and down the side of her hip before arrowing to her pussy. He couldn’t hold out for another taste of her. Another hit of her sweet, dark flavor. He dove between her lips without preamble, without warning. He widened her legs until there was nowhere for her to hide.
She tried.
Oh, how she tried.
She scooted up the bed and he followed her until her shoulders crashed into the headboard. Her screams were nearly as satisfying as if it were his cock filling her sweet cunt, but no. Not quite enough. He’d be there soon enough.
Relentlessly, he went to work on her. Soon, he found the right combination of sucking and licking to make her clit pound under the tip of his tongue.
She was going to climb the padded headboard in a minute.
“Fuck, no,” he growled against her thigh before biting her lightly. “Not until you come.”
She cupped her breast with one hand, tugging at her nipple even as she clawed at the creamy leather behind her with the other. He opened her wide and zeroed in on her clit, drawing on her until a groan built out of her chest and ended in his name.
Fuck, yes, his name.
She tried to twist away from the pleasure, but he wouldn’t allow it. He gripped her thighs and fucked her with his tongue while he flexed his hips, driving his dick into the bed. Anything for some relief.
But there wouldn’t be any. Not until he was inside her.
She stiffened and then simply dissolved under his touch like sugar that had hit its melting point. She shuddered under him as he lapped away every last drop of her cream. His chin was wet and his mouth sore from the workout, but it had been oh so worth it.
A little reluctantly, he wiped her taste off his chin and rose. Curious to see if she was still alive, he sat next to her and tugged at the hidden zipper at his shoulder.
If he didn’t get out of this costume, he was going to lose his mind.
She curled onto her side and tugged her knees up against her chest. He brushed the backs of his knuckles along her cheek, nudging back her hair and exposing her beautiful, entirely too satisfied face.
“I hope you don’t think you’re done.”
Her eyes were closed, but a smirky smile pulled at her lips. Ah, there now. Not completely done in. Tristan kissed her, unsure what she’d do with her taste still on his lips and tongue.
She took it, inhaled herself on his skin and sighed through a gentle, exploring kiss. She cupped his cheek and slowly opened her eyes. “You’re insane.”
The corner of his lips tugged up. “Why?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever had a guy do that.”
His eyebrow spiked. “They need to be shot.”
She laughed and traced the muscles of his forearm up to his biceps. “No, I’ve had a man go down on me before, but not like that. Usually just enough to get me a little wet so he could get a reciprocal BJ.”
“Scumbag.”
She sat up a little, her breast heavy against her arm. He swallowed hard as she peeled down his costume to find his skin and kissed his shoulder, scraping teeth along his upper arm, and down to his elbow. She nosed along the side of the ribbed tank he wore under the itchy costume. “I can take care of you,” she said softly.
“I’d rather be inside you.”
She paused, her fingers falling to grip his thigh. “Of course.”
He shrugged out of the rest of the suit until it scrunched down over his abs. “You want that too, right?”
She nodded, licking her lips. “I don’t want to stop now.”
“Good.” He reached for the end table and cursed. His shaving kit—and very necessary stash of condoms—was not there. He dropped his chin onto his chest. “I’m not in my room. Fuck. Do you have something?”
“I…” She swallowed. “I wasn’t exactly planning on doing this.”
“Fuck.”
She rolled onto her back, dragging a pillow in front of her breasts. “I believe that was the plan.”
He groaned. “Looks like I need to go on a reconnaissance mission.”
She cuddled into the pillows and tucked her hand under her cheek. “You don’t have to go to the drugstore, do you?”
“God, no. I’d knock on all the damn doors first.”
She laughed. The sultry sound made his dick pound out a steady beat. “Tell you what. You get the condoms and I’ll go grab us some refreshment. Maybe one of those bottles of bubbly I saw stashed in the fridge.”
He reached behind his neck and tugged his tank over his head. “On one condition.”
She sat up cross-legged, that damn pillow covering everything he wanted to touch.
“Wear this.”
Her eyebrow climbed into the shade of her bangs. “Marking your territory?”
“Hell yes.”
She shrugged. “All right.” He tossed it to her, groaning as she pulled it over her head. It was just big enough on her to show the sides of her breasts before falling to her hips. She scooted off the side of the bed and straightened her twisted panties.
“On second thought—”
She crossed to him and pressed her finger to his lips. “You wanted me in the shirt, I’m in the shirt.”
“I can see your nipples.”
She brushed her hand down over the front of his tank. “Only because you sucked on them so hard they’re still red.”
He dragged her against his still hard cock. “You liked it.”
“I did.” She grazed the tight nipples acr
oss his bare chest. “I’ll like it even better when you pour champagne over this cotton shirt and suck it off.”
“Christ.”
She licked her lips again and pushed her hair out of her face. “We might both be shouting for God if all goes well.” She crossed to the door. On second thought, she came back to grab the ice bucket off the dresser and threw a smile over her shoulder as she slipped out. “I’ll be right back.”
He rose and grinned. So would he.
His kingdom for a fucking condom. And a condom—or six—he would find.
Five
“You fucking want Juliet Reece.”
How long was he going to have to hear that in his head? Probably until he got out of this house and away from them.
Randy strode into the spacious kitchen of the Houdini estate, feet bare, shirt open—he’d been smart enough to bring along a button-down shirt and jeans so he could shed his damn costume as soon as possible—and braced his fists against the long curving expanse of granite countertop. He could’ve gone home, even though he and Tristan had come in Tris’s car and Tristan had elected to stay the night. As had most of Hammered and most of Warning Sign, along with some of Owen and Callie’s other friends.
Then there was Juliet, who’d cleaved to Tristan’s side all night.
Unsurprisingly, the reception had run late. The music and alcohol and general happy party vibe had been free-flowing into the wee hours, and even now, he could hear faint laughter and the sound of dueling guitars coming from down the hall. Doors opened and closed upstairs, and the occasional excited shout rang out before all was quiet again.
Things were definitely winding down, just not very quickly. Rockstars and their brethren knew how to party.
Randy moved to the giant Subzero refrigerator and rooted around inside until he found something that wasn’t alcoholic. On second thought, why not go for another beer? So what if he’d hit his limit of two already?
Live a fucking little, right?
He grabbed one and popped the top, turning at the soft pad of bare feet on tile. This was becoming a thing tonight, him being interrupted by people he didn’t particularly want to see.
