Playing Pretend, page 15
“It takes a lot to unravel me.”
“It didn’t yesterday,” I counter. I’d give a small fortune to be back in that pool with her grinding on my thigh. Just a taste of those lips would be worth millions.
“Then I guess you picked the wrong implement of torture.” The glare vanishes with a theatric bat of her lashes. “Vibrators are a single girl’s best friend. I must have grown accustomed.”
I lean closer, my dick eager for details. “Tell me more.”
She rolls her eyes, her cheeks darkening. “Maybe another time.”
“Tell me more, little Pip, or I’ll increase the vibration.”
“To what end? What’s the plan?” She lowers her voice to a harsh hiss. “Do you want to bring me undone in public again? Is that the aim?”
“Without a doubt. I can’t get the first time out of my head.”
“Well you better cling to the memory, my friend, because it won’t be repeated.”
My friend. Fuck, I hate when she says that.
“You sure?” I slide a hand into my pocket, palming the remote.
Her eyes narrow, staring me down. She’s a fighter, that’s for sure, but in this she won’t win.
I press the button to increase the vibration, my pulse thrumming as she closes her eyes and scrunches her nose.
“Are you sure it won’t be repeated?” I taunt.
Her jaw ticks as she takes a slow, deep breath. Once. Twice. Three times. Then her eyes open, and a tight smile curves her lips. “I’m sure.”
“Impressive.” I incline my head in praise, pretending lust doesn’t have me by the balls.
“Okay, everyone,” her boss calls over the soft chatter. “Take your seats. We’ll be served our appetizers shortly while I introduce our entertainment.”
Max, Vanessa, and Cassidy claim a spot at our table, leaving the sixth chair empty.
Piper focuses on the vacant spot with trepidation for long heartbeats before scanning the room in tepid fear.
“He’s not coming,” I murmur. “I checked with reception this morning. Julian fled yesterday.”
“Are you sure?”
“Would I lie to you?” It’s not the best question to ask since I’ve lied about my feelings all her life, but the relief relaxing her expression makes the misleading question worthwhile.
“I appreciate you checking.”
I wink. “Anything for you.”
She rolls her eyes again as waitresses with shiny silver trays pass through the doors. We’re served stuffed mushrooms and bruschetta while Pete introduces a stand-up comedian who gains applause and cheers from everyone in the room with an opening joke about the rental market.
Piper barely touches her food. Apart from a tiny taste, all she does is poke the diced tomatoes around her plate, leaving most untouched.
“Eat.” I nudge her elbow as the comedian tells the punchline of a property developer story, sending the room into hysterics.
Piper doesn’t laugh. She must be concentrating. The toy is finally working.
“Eat,” I repeat. “Or I’ll have to give you a lesson on nutrition and physical well-being.”
She sighs, grabs a cloth napkin from the table to dab her mouth despite her lack of food intake, then pushes to her feet. “I’m going to use the ladies.”
Shit. “I’ll escort you.” I shove back in my chair.
“I’m more than capable on my own.”
The crowd laughs at another joke and Piper stiffens.
“I know, but that dress has me feeling things I don’t want any other man feeling while you’re without me.” I push to my feet while Cassidy and Max snicker at us.
“Just let him escort you,” Vanessa pleads. “It’s sweet.”
Piper hits me with an exaggerated scowl that states how unimpressed she is that I’ve fooled her friend. It’s fucking cute.
I step around my chair and close in on her. “Let me escort you and I’ll return the vibrations to the initial setting.”
She pulls back, scrutinizing me, questioning my sincerity. “Promise?”
“I’m a man of my word.”
“Fine.” She juts her chin. “Lead the way.”
I slide an arm around her waist and silently guide her from the room as her colleagues erupt in more laughter. My other hand dips into my pocket once we enter the hall, decreasing her torture via the remote as promised.
Piper doesn’t relax. There’s no thanks or appreciation. Not even a sigh of relief as I stop at the entry to the restroom.
“Do you need a hand?”
She walks past without acknowledging me, swinging the door open and disappearing inside.
She’s not as immune to my gift as she wanted to believe.
She’s unraveling. Surrendering.
I wait until the toilet flushes then invite myself inside, enjoying her widening eyes as she walks from the stall to the polished basin.
“You can’t be in here.” She gets soap from the dispenser and turns on the tap to wash her hands. “It’s unprofessional.”
“Nobody else is going to walk out on the entertainment this early.” I stroll forward, her spine stiffening as I approach. “We’ve got a few minutes of peace.”
“And what do we need a few minutes for?”
I close in on her back, placing my hands on the vanity at either side of her hips.
“I’ll remind you of your promises, Rome.” She cuts the water and turns to face me. “There’s no touching. You’re not allowed to kiss me.”
“No inappropriate touching,” I correct. “And I’m not doing either.”
“You missed your calling as a lawyer. You’d be right at home arguing semantics in a courtroom.”
“Semantics are important in business.”
“Apparently, vibrators are, too,” she drawls. “So you’re just going to cage me here and stare?”
I could. I want to. “At least until you tell me how you’re holding up.”
“Giving you intimate details isn’t part of our deal.”
I grin. “Look at you, already improving your negotiation skills.”
“I’m nothing if not adaptable. Should I place that on my resume, boss?”
My dick jolts. I think I like her calling me that. “Tell me and I promise not to increase the settings until you’ve finished dessert.”
She scrutinizes me, nibbling her bottom lip in contemplation.
“Or…” I shrug. “Would you prefer if we discovered what level thirteen feels—”
“I’m holding up just fine,” she cuts me off.
“Describe fine.” I need the words. I crave the visual. I want to know every sensation coursing through her body.
She breaks eye contact to stare at the open stalls. “Despite my earlier confidence, it’s obviously not easy, okay? I have to concentrate. And my muscles are already tired from being constantly clenched.”
“Have you been close?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “That’s impossible when I’m uncomfortable and paranoid.”
“About what?”
She falls quiet, denying me an answer.
“Is the device too big?” I ask. “Do you need lube?”
“No.” Her cheeks turn scarlet, the gorgeous shade of nervousness making my dick throb. “My discomfort is because...” She snaps her mouth shut.
“Because?” I lean into her line of sight, our lips a breath apart. “Tell me.”
“Because I’m wet,” she blurts. “Why do you think I had to use the bathroom so early in the night? I’m worried I’ll ruin my dress.”
My pulse rages.
My cock aches.
I want a firsthand account of this wetness.
I want to touch her. Maul her. I itch to break my promises and end this charade by revealing my true intentions. But I don’t want that significant memory taking place in the middle of a public goddamn bathroom.
“Are we done now?” She crosses her arms over her chest. “Can I return to my work event?”
I battle restraint, breathing her scent deep, waging war against lust.
“Sure.” I push back from the vanity, thankful my erection is covered by my suit jacket. “I wouldn’t want you to skip your main meal.”
On our return to the conference room, the only thing I can think about eating is her. My face between those thighs, my tongue parting her folds.
I need to make her moan again. I want those sweet sounds filling my ears.
I escort her back to the table and pull out her chair.
She perks up over the main meal, devouring every last bite of her roast duck with orange-ginger glaze. I’m the one who can no longer stomach anything other than her. I can’t quit thinking about the feast I’d prefer to have. How she’d taste. How sitting here is a waste of the hours we have left sharing a hotel room.
She laughs at the comedian’s jokes and whisper chats with Cassidy and Max about how fun it is to have someone making one-liners about the real estate industry.
Dessert isn’t an improvement.
I order a double scotch on the rocks instead of having the chocolate cake while Piper slowly dissects her lemon creme brûlée, eating one tiny sliver at a time.
She isn’t close to half done when my drink arrives. She still continues painfully nibbling after everyone else has finished and the comedian ends his performance with a tongue-in-cheek plea for anyone to help him get a foot into the property market.
I figure out my mistake once the entire room has been cleared of dessert plates except for Piper’s.
“Are you finished, ma’am?” A waitress reaches between us to indicate the last bite of creme brûlée.
“No.” Piper looks at me instead of the waitress and smiles sweetly. “I don’t think I can eat it all.”
Fuck. I said I wouldn’t increase the settings on the vibrator until she’d finished dessert.
“So you’d like me to leave the plate with you…” the waitress hedges. “Or can I take it away?”
“You can take it. Thank you.” Piper smirks. “I’m just not going to finish it.”
I chuckle, impressed and fucking triggered at the same time.
“Nice move.” I need a new plan. A strategy for negotiation.
This is far from over, but I’ll concede and admit I have to reevaluate.
The waitress takes the plate while Piper sits tall and proud.
I bask in her glory, enjoying the way she bested me a little too much. I adore the gleam in her eyes. The confident set to her shoulders. She beams with mastery, and it’s fucking gorgeous.
“Did we miss something?” Cassidy eyes us both as the DJ plays a pub-rock classic. “Piper looks like she just won the Grand Prix.”
Piper shrugs. “I kinda did.”
“You won a time trial, little Pip. The race is far from over.” I push from my chair and hold out a hand for her to take. “Dance with me.”
The exuberance seeps from her expression, concern taking its place. “No, thank you.”
“Last night you promised me a dance. Are you breaking a verbal contract?” I slide my other hand into my pocket in a silent taunt. “Because I’m more than happy to break mine.”
Panic bleeds into her eyes. “But nobody else is dancing.”
Nobody else has even moved from their seat and I don’t give a shit. I want her in my arms, against my chest. I want her moaning my fucking name in front of a crowd of her peers without them knowing I’m bringing her undone.
I beckon my fingers at her. “As far as I’m concerned nobody else exists.”
CHAPTER 15
Piper
His words hit my heart, clenching the muscles tight.
They’re nothing but a strategic chess move, but they increase the normally ignorable base level of my yearning for him to an agonizing hum.
I want him. And the craving is far more than physical.
Every time Rome opens his mouth or makes eye contact, my pulse skips one too many beats.
The way he admires my dress. His underhanded tactics. His confident intrusion into the ladies’ bathroom. Then the breath-stealing way he caged me against the vanity.
It has taken every ounce of my composure to fake my way through it all.
I shove to my feet. “You’re cruel,” I whisper, unwilling to return to the intense vibrations that had me on the edge of hysteria.
“And you’re a fucking temptation.”
I suppress a shudder, my nipples hardening at the sinful compliment.
Rome guides me around the tables to the front of the room, my insecurities on full alert as my colleagues pause their conversations to watch us. He leads me to a small open area near the lectern, then turns into me, arms open in a slow-dance pose that doesn’t match the rapid tempo of the current song.
I shake my head. “We can’t dance like that to this.”
He inclines his head and walks away, heading for the DJ.
The two of them chat, their words undecipherable over the music as I grow more self-conscious. I was embarrassingly wet earlier. My panties soaked. It wasn’t an exaggeration when I said I worried about ruining my dress, or at least earning a damp patch that would cause utter humiliation.
But with the lowered setting of the vibrator, I’ve gained control.
I’ve grown accustomed.
I can’t go back from that.
Rome returns to me, the rock song ending mid chorus and the unmistakable intro of John Legend’s “Conversations in the Dark” taking over.
Ohhs and ahhs fill the room as Rome stops before me, reassuming the slow-dance position.
I should deny him. I should fake food poisoning and run for the bathrooms. But the hunger in his eyes becomes a tractor beam and the lyrics hit so close to home that I succumb like an idiot and step into those arms.
He takes my right hand, his other slides around my waist to the curve of my back while I palm his hip.
Everything inside me is attuned to him. Every beat of my pulse. Every thought inside my frantic mind.
My longing grows painful against the heavenly hum in my core. The barriers against the love I’ve hidden away become weak.
“You’re quiet,” he murmurs, gently rocking me from side to side as Mr. Legend powerfully promises not to break my heart.
“I’m concentrating.”
Rome huffs a laugh. “On shuffling your feet back and forth?”
If only.
No, my concentration is zeroed in on trying to stop the overwhelming mass of my tangled feelings from multiplying. On stopping the desire and lust from building. And worse, from ignoring the clenching beat of my heart that feels so much more painful than the squeeze of a smitten teenager.
“This isn’t an opportune time to be center of attention, Rome.”
“It’s the perfect time. You’ve never looked more beautiful.”
I should roll my eyes. Scoff. But his compliment latches onto me, sinking its nails deep.
God, how am I going to return to normal after this?
“Your strategic move with dessert was impressive.” His thumb rubs slow circles on my back.
“I’m not as pitiful in business as you might think.”
“I’ve never thought you were pitiful. I never could. You’re a worthy adversary.” He raises his arm, guiding me through a gentle twirl before dragging me back into his chest. “But I think it’s time we renegotiate terms.”
I grin. “I don’t think that’s necessary. I’m quite happy with the way things are.”
“Are you sure? Because with our current promise, you’re going to have a long night on the dance floor. I might even have to tip the DJ a few hundred to keep this party moving into the early morning.”
My smile fades as memory serves. Shit. I swore to give Rome all the dancing he wanted. “That was an off-the-cuff comment. I didn’t expect you to hold it against me.”
“And I didn’t expect you to take advantage of the reprieve I willingly gave. You can’t mince words in business, little Pip. That’s why I’m generously offering to renegotiate.”
I roll my eyes. “What are you suggesting?”
“A total overhaul. Let’s start fresh.” He leans closer, his mouth near my ear when he says, “I can admit I made a mistake in promising not to kiss you.”
My pulse flutters with arrhythmia. “Rookie move.”
He pivots us in a different direction as another couple join us on the makeshift dance floor. “I guess I deserve that.”
“And so much more.”
“Duly noted. But I’m sure you don’t want to spend the next six hours shuffling back and forth held tight against my chest while I edge you with that device. There’s room for some new terms.”
Six hours? He wouldn’t dare.
I pull back to meet his gaze, the determined stare letting me know he definitely would dare. Without pause or guilt. “What do you suggest?”
“I’m glad you asked.” His grin turns infuriatingly handsome. “How about you give me a little wriggle room with the settings on the device? Let me inch it up to level six like before and scrap the no kissing rule. In return, I promise to have us out of here by midnight.”
I scoff. “No deal.”
“Negotiate. Give me something to work with. Otherwise we stay here forever.”
“Fine. No kissing,” I state flatly. “And you can increase to level four as long as this is over by eleven.” That should be roughly ninety minutes of endurable torture.
He raises his brows, pretending to consider the deal for a split second. “Level four. Eleven o’clock and three kisses—including one at the door to our suite.”
I swallow.
Those kisses are too much. The intimacy of them. The way our locked lips will chew me up and spit me out in a million pieces.
“Don’t you feel weird wanting to kiss your best friend?” I ask.
“Not in the slightest. You’re a good kisser and so am I.” He shrugs. “So why not indulge?”
Why not? Goddamn you, Rome. Because I’m in love with you.
I shrink with the mental confession, hating that there’s no longer any way to keep those feelings in the past. They’re not hovering. They’re not threatening to break through. They’re here. Right here. In every breath I take.
