The Husband Game

by Wylder, Penny

  8

  We finish paying for our dinner—or rather, Charlie pays, because he nabs the check before I can even so much as glance at it, something that drives me crazy. But I can’t lie, it feels pretty good to be taken care of, as much as I normally hate that sort of thing. I make enough money; I can afford to split meals. But something about this whole traditional marriage set-up has me acting in ways I never would have considered before; agreeing to things I never thought would float my boat. Letting a guy take care of me, at least for one night, doesn’t feel as strange as I thought it would.

  Huh.

  I try not to dwell too hard on that thought, or on how good it feels to let Charlie take my hand and lead me out of the restaurant. This is just temporary, I have to keep reminding myself. It’s just for work. An article you’re working on. View him like you would a source or an interesting fact you’re researching to write about. Nothing more.

  But it’s hard to keep that distance when his hands have been all over me for half the night. And when they’re about to be doing the same thing all over again now.

  At least, so I think. But when we reach the ground floor of the elevator, Charlie doesn’t head for the front door, or the valet stand where we left his car. Instead he grabs my hand and leads me toward a side door, tugging me along after him as I laugh and try to catch my breath.

  “Now where are we going?” I protest.

  He just flashes me that trademark grin over his shoulder. “You’ll like it, I promise.”

  If the rooftop date is anything to go by, he’s right. But I bite my lip, trying not to let on how exactly he has me and my preferences pegged. “I wouldn’t mind going back to yours,” I point out, but that sly smile of his only widens.

  “Don’t worry. I don’t plan on leaving you thirsty for long.” He winks, and I swear, that one move alone makes every muscle in my body go taut with anticipation.

  We step through a side entrance of the hotel and into a little garden hidden in the center courtyard of the building. Out here, our view of the sky above seems even brighter, unimpeded by the windows or the lights like there were up on the rooftop itself. I glance up just in time to catch another of those shooting stars blaze past overhead.

  Closer to hand, the garden is cute, secluded. There’s a little fountain, currently decorated with an ice sculpture in the shape of a swan. Next to that, there’s a bench tucked into a little nook beside another warming fire pit, this one bigger and putting off a lot more heat than the one up on the rooftop.

  “This is beautiful,” I murmur, as Charlie leads me deeper into the garden, until we hover beside the fire pit.

  He grins down at me. “I know,” he says, but his gaze isn’t fixed on our surroundings at all. It’s laser-sharp, focused straight on me.

  I bite my lower lip, and I’m rewarded almost instantly by the way his gaze tracks the movement, his eyes flicking down to follow the indent of my teeth where they sink into my lower lip. He reaches up with one finger and gently brushes it along that lip, until I’m forced to release it, and the pad of his thumb traces over the spot, as if he’s smoothing away the self-inflicted bite.

  “You don’t know how hard it was to resist you all night,” he murmurs.

  I arch one eyebrow, coy. “Didn’t seem like you did too good a job of that.”

  “But I didn’t get to touch you the way I wanted. The way I haven’t been able to stop thinking about doing again, since the minute you left my place this morning.” With his free arm, he reaches up, and pins me against the stone wall beside the firepit. It’s warm from the flames, or maybe just from the fire Charlie’s putting off right now, I can’t tell. Whichever it is, my whole body feels white hot, warmer than if it were a summer day out here.

  His face tilts closer to mine, and I mirror him, arching my back, my neck, up toward his mouth like a flower seeking sunlight.

  But he stops with his lips inches from mine, to grin at me. “Of course, if you want this to be a really traditional courtship…”

  I let out a low, frustrated groan. “Stop teasing me already.”

  He chuckles. “Your wish is my command.” Then his lips collide with mine, and I can finally, finally stop overthinking and just let my body run with what I want.

  I snake my hands up and over his chest to drape them over his shoulders. In response, his encircle my waist, pinning me up against the wall. One of his hands travels lower, sliding down to grip my ass tightly, which makes me arch my hips up off the wall to grind against his waist.

  Fuck. I can already feel the hard press of his cock against my belly, thick and as eager for me as I am wet for him. “Charlie…” I whisper, before we get too far gone, before we lose our heads.

  He just tilts his head to peer down at me, anticipating my response. “There’s nobody here but us.”

  “But what if…” My breath hitches. My voice fails as he tilts his head to nibble down the side of my neck. Damn him, it’s like that sexy mouth of his knows exactly where to bite, to lick, to suck, to draw the response out of me that he wants. My knees go so weak it’s a miracle I’m still standing upright. I sink back against the stone, and he pulls the collar of my coat aside to keep going, his teeth grazing my collarbone lightly, though the sensation alone makes me gasp.

  “What if someone wanders in?” I murmur, finally remembering what I wanted to say. Remembering where we are and why I should be protesting this.

  “What if they do?” he replies with a coy arch of his eyebrow, as if it doesn’t matter. As if he does wild stuff like this all of the time.

  Maybe he does. He seems pretty sure of himself. But even as the doubt begins to form in my mind, he shakes his head, chuckling under his breath as if my every thought was written across my face. “Relax, Lila,” he says softly. “We won’t let anyone catch us.”

  His eyes dance where they find mine. In the dark, they seem bluer than ever, deeper, like pools I could fall into. Drown in.

  “It’s a little hard to relax with you touching me like this,” I point out, but I’m smiling, too. I can’t help it. I can’t not smile when I look at him.

  Then, without warning, he drops to his knees and presses his face into my belly. I suck in a sharp breath through my teeth, gazing down at him kneeling before me.

  “I can help you with that,” he says, before he opens my coat, pushing it aside so he can kiss my belly. Even through the fabric of my dress, which admittedly is pretty thin, I can feel the hard press of his lips, the faint buzz of his stubble. I try and fail to suppress a shiver that has nothing to do with the cool evening air around us, and everything to do with the man driving me wild at my feet.

  “I think you and I have different definitions of relaxing,” I whisper, my gaze rising from him to glance around the courtyard. Still empty, and all the windows of the rooms overhead are farther up. Too far up for someone to see us where we are, crouched in the shadows of the flickering fire pit, beside the building at our backs. At least, I don’t think anyone could see us?

  But they might be able to. The simple possibility—that someone might be watching, even now, as Charlie kisses his way down my stomach, his lips hot through the my dress—makes my pulse race faster, my breath come harder.

  Am I… excited by this? By the risk of getting caught. I can’t deny, there’s something sexy about imagining it. About us being so desperate to get our hands on one another that we’re risking everything just to do it right here, right now.

  “It will be,” Charlie promises, his mouth so close I can feel the heat of his breath. Fuck. His face is pressed right up against the top of my panties now, his mouth inches from my mound. “Well, first, I plan to make you scream.” He grins up at me, sly and eager. “But after you come for me like a good girl, then you’ll feel relaxed.”

  My knees weaken at the sound of those words. Fuck. The man knows how to talk dirty, I’ll give him that.

  “Of course, if you’d prefer I stop…” he adds, before he leans in to press his lips ri
ght over the sweet spot, against my pussy. Even through my dress and my panties, he knows exactly where to press, the spot to touch to make my whole body twist as I inhale a surprised breath.

  “Um… No,” I manage to gasp, sinking back against the wall for support. “No, you don’t have to… stop.”

  He grins, watching me. I swear he’s enjoying this, enjoying the control he has over my pleasure. He likes making me come undone. “So… you’re saying…” With each word, his mouth shifts lower. At the same time, his hands creep around the back of my legs and slide up to my knees. Higher. As his hands rise, he pushes my skirt up with them, moving it toward my hips. “You’d like me to… Keep going?” He finishes on a question, just as he pushes the hem of my skirt past where his lips hover at the middle of my thighs.

  He kisses my upper thighs slowly, one after the next, then presses his face between them. I spread my legs, but he pauses there, waiting, tilting his head to gaze up at me, those blue eyes dancing with amusement.

  “Yes,” I breathe. I let him part my legs wider and reach down to bury my hands in his thick, blond hair. “Yes, keep going, Charlie, please.”

  He grins. “Whatever you want, wifey.”

  He’s joking, I know he is, but that one word, that one reminder of what we’re doing, of how we’re supposed to get married, even if it is for an article, to play pretend so I can write about how modern marriage is a sham that’s doomed to failure… Even so, that word makes my stomach flip, because coming from him, it doesn’t sound so insane or ridiculous.

  It sounds like something any girl would want. Who wouldn’t want to marry a man like this, a man who—

  Oh, fuck. A man who knows how to use his tongue.

  He licks up my inner thigh now, leaving a smooth, hot trail along my skin. My eyelids flutter shut, and I let out a sharp breath, as his hands part my thighs wider, his mouth inching higher, closer to the ache between my legs. Fuck, I am already soaked, I can tell even before his mouth brushes against my panties.

  He chuckles and licks the outside of my panties, before he tips his head back, his chin resting against my thigh, to peer up at me. “Someone’s been looking forward to this.”

  “Someone was teasing me all night long,” I reply in a low voice. “What can I say? You make me wet as hell, Charlie Cross.”

  “Mm. I’d apologize, but… I’m not sorry.” With that, he catches the thin fabric of my panties between his teeth and pulls them down, using only his mouth for leverage. I gasp as they peel free of my body and fall to my knees. But he doesn’t give me time to get cold in the night air, or to be distracted by anything else.

  A moment later, his mouth returns to my mound, his lips searing hot against my smooth skin. His hands grip my ass, part my thighs wider, and then his tongue slides between my legs to trace along the outer lips of my pussy, hot and wet and so damn sexy it makes the pressure start to build behind my belly already.

  I tighten my grip on his hair, trembling, unable to look anywhere but down at the man in front of me.

  His eyes, for his part, stay fixed on me too, like he’s enjoying watching me. Seeing how quickly he can make me come unraveled.

  Pretty fucking quickly, I should think, if last night was any indication.

  He presses his tongue into my slit, tasting the juices there, lapping at me like I’m the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted. He grins, then, and draws back just far enough to whisper. “I missed the way you taste on my tongue.”

  Fuck.

  “This… isn’t fair, you know,” I manage, between gritted teeth, as he returns to his ministrations. The long, slow lap of his tongue drives me fucking wild, as he starts to lick back and forth along my slit in slow, steady motions.

  “I don’t think I ever agreed to play fair,” he says, before his tongue reaches my entrance, swirls around it for a moment, and then plunges inside me.

  I can’t help it. I can’t hold it in any longer. I let out a faint cry of pleasure, my head tipping back against the stone wall behind me. Upstairs, somewhere in the hotel, lights flick on in one of the rooms. But I can’t bring myself to care. I can’t do anything to stop this, the way Charlie’s mouth feels against my pussy as he tongues me, eating me out. I can’t stop him now, not when my toes are curling inside my shoes and my heart hitches in my throat, and my pulse is going so hard and so fast it’s a wonder all the blood in my body hasn’t rushed straight to my head. Or maybe down to my core.

  Every nerve ending in my body feels white hot, poised to fire off at any second. And still, Charlie keeps going, lashing me with his tongue, pushing it inside me and pulling it back out again over and over. He curls the tip as he goes, dragging it along my inner walls, grazing over that sensitive as hell G-spot that he knows exactly how to find every time.

  And fuck. It doesn’t take long before I’m poised right up on the edge, every muscle taut with desire.

  “Charlie…” I breathe, and then louder, because he didn’t hear me, and I’m not even sure I said it out loud the first time, that’s how far from this plane I am. “Charlie, fuck, I… I’m going to…”

  He pauses just long enough to look up at me, those eyes of his white hot, filled with the kind of lust that makes my own redouble. “Come for me,” he breathes, and then his tongue plunges into me again, grazing that G-spot once more, merciless, relentless.

  “Fuck,” I groan. Then louder. “Fuckkkk,” my voice trailing off, echoing around the courtyard, bouncing off the stone walls, reverberating.

  More lights flick on. It takes me a while to notice, because at first, I mistake them for the spots dancing across my vision, the multicolor sparks I see thanks to coming so fucking hard. But when I blink a few times and those new lights remain, I realize…

  “Shit. Charlie.”

  He’s still tonguing me gently, lapping up my juices, and they’ve spilled over his mouth, into his stubble, and it makes me want to drop to my knees right now and lick his mouth clean, taste myself on his lips. But I can’t, because…

  “Is someone in there?” A door slams open, way too close for comfort. Fuck. The door we came in through. I hear a jangle of keys, followed by heavy footsteps. “This is security.”

  “Fuck,” we both gasp in sync, and way too loud.

  The footsteps start in our direction. I scramble, yanking up my panties and pushing my dress down at the same time. I’m unsteady on my feet though, swaying, and breathless still from the orgasm. Charlie catches me, laughing, and wraps an arm around my waist to steady me.

  “What are you doing?” I hiss at him, when he holds me there for a moment, letting me catch my breath, get my feet back underneath me in these stupid kitten heels I don’t know why I wore. “We have to run!”

  “Don’t be silly.” He smoothes my hair, kisses my forehead like I’m being ridiculous. Then, as casual as anything, he loops my hand through his and pulls me into a casual stroll back toward the entrance.

  We only walk a couple of steps before we practically run straight into the security guard. My heart hammers in my chest, my hair wild, my whole body still singing with the faint remaining pleasure of the orgasm, the adrenaline of the shouting from the security guard.

  The guard eyes us both, his gaze returning and then lingering on me.

  “Evening,” Charlie says easily. “We were just checking out the garden.”

  “The garden closes at sunset,” the guard says, his face a scowl of disapproval. Still, that stern gaze hasn’t left me.

  My heart stutters in my chest. But Charlie takes it all in stride. “Oh, I’m so sorry. The door was unlocked. We didn’t see a sign.” Finally, Charlie seems to register where the guard is glaring, and he glances over his shoulder at me, at my shocked, stunned expression, like I’ve just been blindsided with something. Not to mention I’m sure my face is bright red, my whole body alight and trembling after that.

  Charlie smiles, gentle and reassuring, then turns back to the guard. “My fiancée needed some air. We were eating up on the
rooftop, but she felt a little dizzy when we got off the elevators…”

  The guard’s expression softens, then, and when he looks back at me, he’s no longer glaring. “I’m sorry you weren’t feeling well. But I’ll have to ask you both to leave the gardens.”

  “Of course. Thank you,” I manage, my voice only trembling slightly on the end. Charlie squeezes my hand in support, and together we hurry from the gardens, the guard behind us, grumbling to himself. Probably about annoying hotel guests sneaking into places they shouldn’t be allowed.

  My heartbeat doesn’t slow down until we’re back out front of the hotel, and the valet is tossing Charlie the keys to his car. Only when we’re safe inside it do I finally dissolve into laughter, Charlie joining me. “You should have seen your face,” he teases.

  I swat his arm. “You bastard. You can’t make me lose my head like that in public!”

  “It was fine. No harm done.” He smirks. “Not that you were very convincing with the guard…”

  “Oh, my god.” I bury my face in my hands. “Do you think he knew what we were doing?”

  “I think he knew we were in there for a little more than air, if that’s what you’re asking,” Charlie responds with a sly grin, and I swat his arm yet again. The bastard ignores me, just chuckling to himself as he starts up his car.

  “You’re the worst,” I protest.

  “You seemed to be enjoying yourself.” Charlie shrugs, unrepentant.

  I roll my eyes and sink into my seatback. “This marriage is turning out to be entirely filled with sex and little else.”

  “Is that an issue?” He side-eyes me, still wearing that sly smile of his.

  “Just…” I bite my lower lip. What am I going to write about? Traditional marriages start off with a lot of lust and sneaking off to fuck in public gardens? I clear my throat. “I need more material.”

  “So ask me.” He spreads his hands, before he reaches back for the wheel to turn onto the main road. “I’m an open book.”

  “Ask you what?”

  “Anything you want. Anything you think will be good for your article.”