Page 38 of Stick to the Deal (Friendship Springs Romance #3)

Red Hearts Gala

I check my watch for the tenth time in as many minutes.

First big Bancroft family gala as a married couple and we’re going to be late.

Mother is going to have a fit—not that it takes much to get her going these days.

My eyes are still on the crystal face as I step into our bedroom.

“Nic, are you almost…” I stop in my tracks as my eyes catch the first sight of her in the full-length mirror in the dressing room.

Red silk hugs her body, then pools around her feet.

Thin lines of embroidered sequins glitter at the bodice and sleeves, which artfully leave her shoulders bare.

A thigh-high slit shows the slightest peek of leg as she stands, one sequined heel pushed forward for inspection.

Her ebony hair zigzags in gentle waves. Her ruby-red lips are pinched, and creases form around her smokey eye makeup.

Concerned, I step up behind her and lay a tender hand on her shoulder. “What’s wrong, Princess?”

Doubt clouds her eyes as they meet mine in the mirror. “Is it too much?” Before I can comment, she rushes on. “When I bought it, I thought it fit the theme, but now I’m not sure. Everything is covered but… it’s still too sexy.”

“You look stunning. There is no such thing as too sexy, though as your husband I am arguably biased. I love the red. Certainly different from all those pastels you normally wear to these things. ”

“I don’t want to embarrass your family.” She leans her shoulder into me, as if for support. Her eyes glimmer as they hold mine in the mirror.

The vulnerability in her eyes is my undoing. How could this amazing woman be brought so low by self-doubt? Who did this to her? Instantly I want to know, so I can hunt every bully down.

“You could never be an embarrassment. You are my wife. Frankly, you are the only reason I’ve survived these past few events without scaring off investors.”

Her lip trembles in a half-hearted smile. “Grandmama would hate this dress. Are you sure your mother won’t be mad?”

Honestly, she might be, but lately my mother has no trouble finding something to be offended by. “Fuck them.”

Her eyes widen but a crease of concern still mars her beautiful face.

I’ll just have to do something about that.

My left hand grips her hip, pulling her ass against the erection tenting my tuxedo pants.

My lips brush the shell of her ear as I whisper, “Can’t leave you in your head all night.

I’ll have to give you something else to think about.

” My other hand trails along her wrapped bodice, following the swells of her body until it finds the warm flesh of her thigh.

Fingers slip beneath the scarlet fabric, searching the hidden depths for the valley of her thighs.

Instead of a scrap of cloth, I feel her bare pussy, and groan. “No panties, Princess?”

Her breath increases and her tongue darts out to wet her lips. “I didn’t want to worry about lines.” Her legs shift ever so slightly, allowing me better access.

“Knowing you are naked under this dress is going to distract me all night.” I lightly trace her slit. Soft, teasing strokes highlighting the torture she’s about to unleash on me.

Nic rocks her hips, rubbing her ass against my erection and encouraging my fingers to further explore. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not,” I growl in her ear. Gathering some of her building arousal, I circle her clit, all the while watching her eyes glaze with lust. Stepping in closer, I curl my hand, slipping into her slick center.

She groans and her inner muscles quiver.

A second finger joins the first. The heel of my hand presses on her sensitive bud with every stroke.

Her head falls back. A slew of incoherent moans falling from her mouth.

My hand leaves her hip to grip her chin, forcing her to face the mirror again. “Don’t you look away. Watch how beautiful you are in your passion. You are a fucking goddess and don’t you forget it.” I thrust in and out of her pussy with each word.

Her eyes meet mine. “Reginald, please.”

My fingers pick up their grueling pace, curling to hit that spot I know she likes best. “I wish I had time to fuck you properly. I want you dripping down your legs all night thinking of all the ways I’ll take your body when we get home. Now cum.”

Mouth opening in a silent scream, she does.

Wetness rushes as her core clenches around my hand.

Her weight now rests on my chest more solidly as her breasts heave at the sweetheart neckline in panting breaths.

Her eyes stare as I lift my fingers—glistening from her orgasm—to my lips and suck them clean. “That’s better.”

She smiles. It’s small and tentative, but she finally looks more herself.

I drop a kiss to her temple, then head to the door, calling over my shoulder, “Finish up, we’re leaving in five minutes.”

She steps towards the bed to retrieve her clutch and wrap. I’m satisfied to see a slight wobble to her legs. “Where are you going?”

“To change my tie.” With a yank, I pull the black silk from my neck and toss it to her. “Leave that one. We’ll be needing it later.”

T he limo pulls up to the red carpet in a sea of lights.

I stand and tug my jacket in a practiced gesture as cameras flash like fireflies in the crowd.

Reaching down for her hand, I watch Nic exit the car with her confident smile back in place.

She could have been an award-winning actress if she’d wanted to.

We make our way, stopping for photographs in front of the charity banner. Nic looks gorgeous in her dress, and I’m not the only one to admire it. Men and women stare at her as she gracefully moves by my side. I wrap my hand around her ribs, resting just under the swell of her breast.

Is it a possessive gesture? Damn right. Borderline immature and might cause tabloid stories tomorrow? Right again. But at this moment I don’t care. Nic is my wife, and everyone else can sod off.

She doesn’t move away, if anything, she leans closer to me as we pause for photographs.

Halfway down the carpet, she turns her head, leaning in so close that her breath tickles my ear.

“Lord Crawford’s dates get younger every year—I swear this one could be his granddaughter.

Imagine what we’d raise for erectile dysfunction instead. ”

My lips quiver as I fight a smile.

“We could call it the Little Blue Gala.”

Unable to hold back any longer, I let loose a belly laugh. It sounds rusty to my own ears. When was the last time I really laughed? The thought is sobering enough to school my features back into their stoic mask.

We reach the end of the carpet where my family waits. A grim look of displeasure mars my mother’s otherwise flawless face. “Where have you been?”

Nic stiffens slightly under my arm as I lean in to give the expected kiss to my mother’s cheek. “It’s my fault. I had to change my tie.”

“Red? The two of you really should clear your outfits with me in the future.”

I grit my teeth to moderate my tone. “Relax, Mother, the theme is red hearts. Aren’t you overreacting a tad?”

“Whatever has gotten into you lately, Reginald.” She shakes her head, every strand of hair staying perfectly in place.

“I, for one, think Nic looks lovely in that gown, Mother,” Monty leans in, grasping Nic’s hand. “Quite ravishing.”

Mother grabs Monty’s arm with a hard look. “Well, it’s too late now. Go mingle and remember who you are.” With one last glare at us, she turns to a couple approaching, summarily dismissing us.

Father is barely paying attention to us as he smiles and nods at the crowd.

Nic slips her hand into the crook of my elbow and we enter the gala itself. We make the rounds, schmoozing donors and family friends alike. My wife is unstoppable. She uses that uncanny ability of hers to draw everyone in.

The band plays the opening refrain of a waltz. “Shall we dance?” I hold my hand out to Nic. Her eyes twinkle as she takes my hand and lets me lead her out onto the floor.

“You’re quite the dancer, Lord Ravenscourt.” Her cheeks blush beautifully as I swing her through another turn.

“Five years of ballroom lessons. Mother insisted.”

“For once, I approve of something your mother did.”

I chuckle. “Thank you for coming with me tonight.”

“Of course. Wasn’t that part of the deal?” Her lips quirk into a sassy smile .

“True, but I appreciate you being here all the same. This one isn’t as terrible as they usually are, and I’m positive you’re the reason.”

“I haven’t done anything.”

“Tell that to Lord Fairchild! For years, my mother has been trying to convince him to sponsor the foundation, yet in one night you have him writing a check large enough to build a new hospital wing.” I couldn’t help smiling down at her as she wooed elderly Lord Fairchild, a man who has single-mindedly hated my family for years.

“That big teddy bear?”

I tighten my arm at her waist, pulling her in closer than strictly proper. “You are marvelous. What would I do without you?”

She leans in with catlike grace. “Pray you never find out.”

Damn convention. I lean forward to give her a kiss, but before my lips make contact, a hand lands on my shoulder.

“May I cut in? Never got a chance to dance with the bride at the wedding.” Monty grins at me, waggling his eyebrows.

I look at Nic. She nods, but I see frustration in her eyes. It’s the only solace I have as I let go. My feet take me to the bar, every instinct telling me to go back and drag her away from Monty.

The first scotch goes down like fire. The burn of the second is more welcome, matching my roiling emotions. I set the glass down with a clink as a cloud of pink fabric invades my peripheral vision.

“I’ve missed you, Reggie-bear. We need to talk.”

My stomach drops at her voice. Instead of looking at Serena, I turn and track my wife as she dances across the floor with my brother.