Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 29826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 149(@200wpm)___ 119(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 149(@200wpm)___ 119(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
“Oh shit,” she says softly.
“But that’s not how I want it to go the first time.” Her breath hitches and I smile against the tender skin of her neck.
“The first time?’
“I’ve got plans for you, Celeste.” Right now, it feels dirty saying her name out loud, and I’m ready to get her alone.
“Where’s your room?” she asks, as if reading my mind.
Leaning back, I give her a cocky grin and nod toward the door. “Let’s get out of here.”
As I take her by the hand, I turn around and see Amber step in front of us. Her eyes are glassy like she’s had a few too many, and I’m wondering how long she’s been drinking. Shit, it’s not even nine o’clock.
“Come on, Crew, it’s my turn for darts and I don’t have a partner.” She pouts and takes my free hand.
“Sorry, Amber. We’re leaving.” I pull my hand back and try to be polite. I go to move around her, but she sidesteps us.
“Is there not a black-tie dress code for tonight?” she asks pointedly, looking at Celeste and then back at me.
“That’s enough,” I warn her, because I know she’s wasted.
“Oh shit,” she says soberly and straightens. “You must be part of the help. Here, take my drink.”
And before I can stop her, Amber launches her drink in Celeste’s direction. I’m quick enough to move so that most of the contents of her margarita land on my tux and only a little of the splash gets Celeste.
“What the fuck, Amber!” I shout, and everyone turns in our direction.
“Oops,” she drunkenly giggles as Jackson appears at my side. “Sorry, Crew, that was meant for the trash.”
“Get her the fuck out of here,” I hiss through clenched teeth, and Jackson nods as he grabs her from behind and frog-marches her out of the room.
The music doesn’t stop, and nobody really reacts to Amber’s drama as the party keeps on going. Typical. These assholes are freeloaders, and seeing their reaction to Celeste is pissing me off.
I want to scream for everyone to get out of my house, but I know that wouldn’t look good for my dad. So instead, I remove us from this situation and vow not to put Celeste in it again. Have they always been dicks, or is it in the air tonight?
“Come with me, beautiful. I need to get changed.”
She nods, and I can’t read the expression in her eyes. Is it embarrassment, shame, or is she regretting being here with me? Fuck.
When we exit the billiards room, I take her to another set of stairs that leads to my bedroom. I never, ever bring people to this side of the house. Mostly because it’s farther away from everything, but really it’s because it’s private. I don’t want random people in my space. I like to have a spot where I can go to relax and clear my head if I need to.
When we go inside, I close the heavy wooden door behind us and lock it. Celeste is still quiet as I show her into the attached bath and grab a towel.
“Here, let me help you.” I start to dry off her dress, but she waves it away.
“It’s fine, really. Her drink was mostly ice anyway.” There’s a few water spots, but she’s right. There are no stains anywhere. “What are you going to do about your tux?”
“I’ll just put on another one.” I go to take off my jacket, and she watches me closely.
“So you just have several tuxes lying around?” She raises a brow, and I’m relieved to see she’s not so sad.
“A couple.” I wink as I toss the jacket in the hamper and undo my bowtie.
“Maybe I should go.” She looks to the bathroom door but doesn’t make a move to leave.
“And why would you do that? The show is just starting.” Letting my tie fall to the floor, I unbutton the dress shirt and then hold up my wrists up in front of her. “A little help?”
She smirks as she unclasps the cufflinks and places them on the bathroom counter. I finish with the front buttons and let the shirt drop to the floor. Her eyes are on my chest and then she looks away quickly. I watch her, not looking away as I go for my belt.
Celeste glances at me, then to the floor, and then the ceiling. Anywhere but at me as I undo my belt and drop that onto the pile.
“I wouldn’t be doing this in front of you if I didn’t want you to look,” I say, and her cheeks flush as her eyes meet mine. “But I’m not making you stay.”
When she nods in understanding, I lick my bottom lip and kick off my shoes and socks. My pants drop to the floor, and I step out of them, so I’m in front of her in only boxer briefs.