He shifted his grip on her, forcing her knees open wider, and then he moved, gliding in and out of her body.
“Look at me.” His lips caressed hers as he spoke.
She didn’t know when she’d closed her eyes, only that she had.
Miranda opened them, staring deeply into Raul’s gaze.
If she’d thought he saw into her soul before, now it was deeper.
He thrust, and her jaw dropped open. She whimpered, not the least bit concerned about keeping those noises in. The next thrust rattled the frames on the wall, which was rather hot. He kept going, driving into her with a steady, slow need, stroking that flame of passion hotter and hotter. Her breasts rubbed against his chest, the wiry hairs abrading and tickling her aroused flesh with each pass.
This was who Raul was.
He might be slow and steady, but he was intent. On her. On his dreams. And she was right where she wanted to be. Wrapped around him, part of his life.
He leaned in, taking her mouth in a demanding kiss. His thrusts grew shorter, rougher, needier.
Miranda tossed her head back and his lips blazed a trail down her neck. He lifted her as he thrust, grinding against her clit.
She moaned—long, needy sounds.
“Come on,” he whispered between kisses.
Her mouth couldn’t form words. She couldn’t tell him she was right there. All she could do was hold on as he drove into her.
The coil of desire tightened in her abdomen until she thought she was going to burst apart. She arched her back, finding just the right spot. Raul’s cock rubbed against her with each pass.
He whispered things to her, some dirty, some not so dirty, but what mattered was—he was as into her, into being with her, as she was into him. She gasped his name, shifting her hips, riding him until her body nearly burst apart. The muscles in her abdomen spasmed, her vagina tightening around him at the same moment he groaned and his thrusts grew rougher.
“Look at me.”
She forced her eyes open and felt herself tipping, falling into love with him.
11.
Two weeks later...
Raul wiped his hands on his rented tux.
When Miranda had said fancy “fundraiser” he’d expected glasses instead of plastic cups and a button-down shirt with clean jeans instead of scrubs.
Not this.
He was jealous of John, who’d opted to hang back behind the scenes to calm a few of their more nervous pooches for their moments in the spotlight. There was no dressing up the old biker.
Raul turned in a circle, still barely able to believe what Miranda had made happen in a month.
Where the hell had all these people come from, anyway?
Things had almost gone off the rails when Miranda’s friend’s flights had been delayed, canceled, and rescheduled due to a weird storm. Heck, he’d barely been able to say more than hi to them in passing before the show was on. Since the flowers incident, she’d focused on the event with a single-minded determination that exhausted him.
Raul had hoped her friends arriving would calm Miranda down a bit, but no. They’d received their marching orders and fell in line.
Her friends stuck out. Rashae was resplendent in some sort of red, glittering gown, microphone in hand, keeping the attendees focused on the agenda. Piper was somewhere up in a booth doing things with music. Which left Tamara and her boyfriend to supervise the silent auction. Miranda was...somewhere. Everywhere.
He was grateful. He really was. But this whole thing was out of control. Maybe when the fundraiser was over, he could have the woman he’d first met back again. Not that he didn’t appreciate what she was doing, but...he missed Miranda.
“There you are.” She pulled the curtain back and he cringed. “Why are you hiding?”
Guilty.
“Just...taking it all in.”
“It’s turned out pretty good, I’d say.” She handed him a flute of bubbling alcohol and turned to stand next to him.
“Where did you find all of these people?”
“Crystal.”
“Who?”
“The girl who works for me? Remember?”
“Uh...” He stared at Miranda, doing his best to not let his gaze drop to her cleavage. She’d done some sort of female magic to boost them up in the gold gown she’d donned for the evening. Tiny, golden cat ears poked up from her silky curls, a flirty, fun addition to an otherwise smoking-hot outfit.
“Her.” Miranda pointed out to a cluster of younger twenty-somethings. They wore evening attire, but in a...trendier...style. One girl in particular had on a full skirt with bedazzled cats on the outer layer.
“And she is?”
“Crystal. One of my lead artists. Remember, I told you about the thing with the declawing?”
“Oh—right. She supported a charity that changed their policy on declawing cats.”
“Yeah, and Crystal is a hardcore anti-declawer. Her family is also filthy rich, and since she’s a highly motivated young woman, she tends to inspire that same kind of passion in those around her.”
“Right. Never change our policy on declawing and we’re good.”
“Exactly.” Miranda clinked their glasses together and sipped.
There were so many people here. He was an ass for dreading this and just wanting it over. Miranda had gone to so much work. It was truly astounding.
“Have I told you lately you’re amazing?” he asked. He really was lucky to have her. This, all of it, was overwhelming.
“I think you might have said something like that a few days ago...I believe we were in the game room...” She peered up at the ceiling, lips pursed.
“You,” he kissed her cheek, “are amazing. This seriously wouldn’t have happened without you.”
“Well, the good news is that the advance donations completely cover that deposit we talked about.” Miranda grinned.
“Shut up.” Raul continued to stare at her, now in awe.
They’d discussed what it would take to move the rescue from the rental house into an actual facility. The numbers had seemed stacked against them. So far out of reach that he’d merely nodded and smiled while she talked. But to think it was within reach in one night?
“And the monthly pledges are looking promising. The automated system seems to be working wonderfully, so there’s a good chance that by the end of tonight, you—my handsome man—are several steps closer to making this happen.”
“Wow. Just—I don’t know what to say.”
“Nothing. Well, to me anyway. Get out there and talk to people. You’re the face of this whole thing.” She gave him a little push out of the alcove. “And, not to scare you, but Rashae has her eyes on you. She’ll probably corner you when you least expect it.”
Raul reached back and grabbed her hand. If he was going to talk to these people, he’d need her guidance. This wasn’t a world he was familiar with, much less fluent in.
“Word of advice?” Miranda leaned in close. “Talk to the older generation. They tend to be on the lookout for a good tax write-off that will make them look good. The younger people are either here to support or...get free booze.” She bumped him, clearly steering him toward someone.
Half an hour later and a lot of small talk under his belt, Raul was finally feeling as though he had a handle on what he was doing. Majority of the people in attendance were local business owners and a few politicians who seemed to have their own agenda. The rest were clearly Miranda’s people. The geeks who were as socially awkward as Raul felt, at least until they got onto the topic of video games. Miranda moved in and out of his circle of conversation, utterly at ease with her role in everything.
“Are you the guy in that puppy pool video?”
Raul turned toward a young woman sipping from a crystal flute. Everything about her, from her body-contouring dress to the glittering strand of gems across her chest, screamed money.
“That would be me, yes.” He clasped his hands in front of him. This was a conversat
ion that’d cropped up a few times. Man, how he regretted letting Miranda talk him into doing a few more of them. She said they’d gone viral, whatever that meant.
“You look a lot different with so many clothes on.” The young woman had to be in her mid-twenties, and judging by the way she giggled, the champagne was to her taste, at least.
“I’m not in the habit of swimming in a tux.”
“You’re so silly.” She swatted at his arm and did a little...shimmy thing, scooting closer.
“Thank you so much for coming out tonight, Miss?” He thrust his hand toward her, a good move for wedging a little distance between himself and some of the heavier drinking guests.
“You can call me Sue.” She grasped his hand and held onto it.
“Well, Sue, I need to find Miranda.” He’d found using Miranda’s name to be a touchstone, a reminder of what he was doing, and a shield when it came to other women.
“Who’s she?” Sue wrinkled her nose.
“Uh...the woman over there? Gold dress?” Miranda was blissfully unaware of him or his silent plea for rescue.
“Oh, is she your assistant or something?” Sue was not getting the point. At all.
“No, she’s my girlfriend.” Raul kept his eyes on Miranda. She really was stunning. And he was damn lucky to have her in his life.
“Her? She’s kind of...fat.”
If Raul had hackles, they’d be up.
He turned slowly toward Sue. She had her chin tipped up, regarding him...like his ex had. As a thing. Not a person. And that wasn’t even touching on Sue’s bitchy comment about a woman with ten times the success and beauty.
“She’s the most beautiful woman in this room.” Raul squeezed Sue’s hand once, and twisted out of her grasp. “Have a good evening.”
What he really wanted to say was, Go fuck yourself, but Miranda would have his balls for a statement like that. She’d made it infinitely clear that the goal tonight was raising funds, not making friends.
He strode across the room, skirting several groups and merely nodding to a few people who called his name.
“Hold up there, lover boy.” One red, glittering glove-encased hand planted in the middle of his chest. Rashae cocked her hip, shifting between him and Miranda.
Crap. He’d known this was coming.
“Rashae. Nice to meet you. Sorry there hasn’t been time to really talk.”
“Mm-hmm. What’d peaches n’ cream over there have to say that’s got you storming across this room?” Rashae missed nothing.
“Nothing.” Raul scrubbed a hand across his face.
“Right. Whatever she said to you, it’s all over your face, so wipe it off before Miranda sees it. She’s sensitive like that.”
“Fuck.” Raul shifted, putting his back toward Miranda.
“What happened?”
“Nothing, just a bitchy girl.”
“Oh, let me guess?” Rashae smiled and flipped her hair. “You’re too hot to be with her. Be with me instead.”
Raul stared.
“Please, I see it all the time. And you do not go over there to sweet, sensitive Miranda with that look on your face.” She leaned in closer. “What’d you say to the bitch?”
“Not what I wanted to, that’s for sure.” He grumbled a few choice words.
“Damn, I was hoping you said it to her face.”
“Miranda told me not to.”
“Oh, you’re pouting. That’s almost cute.”
What had he told Miranda he’d say to Rashae’s face? It’d been a while...
“Go fuck yourself,” he said.
Rashae tipped her head back and laughed, the sound loud, booming. He snickered. The way she laughed was infectious.
“You’re all right, Dr C.” Rashae smacked his shoulder with a folded, red fan that matched her dress. She glanced at Miranda and leaned closer. “How’s she doing? For real.”
Raul opened and closed his mouth.
“Seriously. Tell me. What’s going on?” Rashae’s gaze was razor sharp.
“She’s...I’m worried she’s focusing on this—all of it—instead of, you know.”
“The stalker thing.”
“Yeah.”
“I can see why she’d want to throw herself into something that makes her happy instead of living in that nightmare.”
“Yeah, I just worry about her.”
“And that’s why you’re all right, Dr. C. I had my doubts about you, but you seem to be a pretty okay guy.”
“Am I right though?”
“To be worried about her?”
“Yeah.”
“I am, too, but... You, and this, make her happy. It’s been a long time since Miranda had anything outside of work to be happy about, so I won’t take that away from her.”
“Okay.” Raul blew out a breath.
“What’s bothering you?”
“Nothing.”
Rashae stared at him.
Raul rolled his eyes.
“Fine. I just...I’m worried about her. And this. All of it. I want it to be about us and doing something good. Not...the bad stuff.”
“It is good, and I’m glad you’re aware that Miranda can go over-board. That’s why we’re here. To pull her back.”
Raul nodded and the stress of it all fell off his shoulders. He wasn’t the only one looking out for Miranda, and that mattered.
“We’ll have to hang out later,” Rashae said.
“Cool.” He blinked a few times as Rashae sashayed away, not entirely sure what had just happened. Were they...friends now? The tension he’d felt in his shoulders was gone. Yeah, Sue was still a bitch, but that wasn’t his problem.
Raul turned, searching again for Miranda.
There.
He strolled toward her, admiring her smile, the way she...glowed.
Miranda glanced at him once as he closed in on her, then did a double take.
“Raul—”
He wrapped his arm around her waist and pressed a brief, chaste kiss to her red lips. He pulled back, giving the man she was talking to a sheepish smile.
“Sorry for the interruption.” He offered his hand and kept his arm around Miranda’s waist. It just so happened she fit perfectly against him. “Hi, I’m Raul.”
“Raul—this is Cliff.” Miranda pressed her hand against his chest. “Technically, he’s my boss.”
Well, shit.
First impressions, apparently, weren’t his strong suit.
Frank hung back, keeping mostly to himself. He knew a good majority of people in the room, but tonight was about observing Miranda in all her glory.
He’d recognized her potential years ago. Watching her grow, mature, and succeed was one of the most satisfactory things. But she’d gone off the rails somewhere. It’d never been clearer than right now, what with that piece of trash clinging to her side.
The emcee, Rashae, took to the stage after a brief tour around the room. Leave it to her to show up at an evening event still in cosplay. Granted, most of the people in attendance wouldn’t recognize the Sailor Mars formal gown, but he did.
He was really going to have to talk to Miranda about the company she kept. While he adored how she used her mind to create immersive game experiences, it was past time she grew up. A lot.
One by one, the winners of the auction were announced, their donations applauded, and praise rained down upon the narcissistic company. When it came his turn, he merely nodded and hung back while the final announcements were made.
“Frank, so good to see you here!” Miranda stepped through the crowd and his heart melted.
“You thought I’d miss this?” He held out his arm, but instead of giving him his hug, she clasped his hand instead. There’d been a day when she’d turned to him for support. And this was how she treated him now?
“It’s fantastic, isn’t it? Thank you again for coming.” She squeezed his hand again, and was gone, the crowd closing ranks around her.
The fuck they were over.
&n
bsp; This was unacceptable.
It was time to have more than a chat with Miranda. It was time to rein her in and put her in her place.
He strolled around the perimeter of the room toward the brown one. Raul. The fucking boyfriend impersonator.
This was who Miranda had let into her life?
For a moment, Frank watched the younger man. He turned in place, shaking hands, and speaking to people with a slightly nervous edge. He wasn’t at all the kind of man who deserved a gem like Miranda, but Frank would take care of that.
The crowd around Raul thinned and Frank stepped in.
“Dr. C, congratulations on tonight.” Frank clapped Raul on the shoulder, more than a little gratified by how the other man jumped.
“No, thank you. From the sound of it, you’re the real winner. Congratulations on winning the Drudge concept package.” Raul clasped Frank’s hand, giving it a firm single pump.
“I’ve been a fan of Miranda’s work from the beginning.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes.” Frank grit his teeth. She hadn’t even mentioned him? “Say, I have a proposition for you.”
“Okay...?” Raul shoved his hands in his pockets and shifted his weight. Little, uncomfortable tells.
“What would you say if I offered to double my donation if you threw in dinner with the brain behind the game?”
“Double it?” Raul’s brows rose.
“Sure. But only for dinner.”
“That—wow—that sounds amazing.”
Frank offered his hand.
The idiot would sell his soul for the right price.
Miranda collapsed onto the sofa in the green room. Rashae was already stripping out of her Sailor Moon get-up to go play with the puppies, and both Piper and Tamara were not yet done with sitting around and keeping their feet up.
“Hey, thanks again for bringing Steven. He was a huge hit.” Miranda swigged some water. She never drank enough at these events to keep hydrated.
“Oh—please. He loved this stuff.” Tamara rolled her eyes, but the smile was the true tell. She was happy.
Mr. Purr-fect and the Geek (Gone Geek, #2) Page 11
