Page 2 of One Empire Night (Lost Kings MC 9.5)

  “I bet if I checked, I’d discover you’re lying.” The shiver that works through my body has nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with his low, seductive voice. “Fine, let’s go.” I tug on his hand to emphasize my desire to leave.

  He groans and tightens his hold on me. “Nice try. You have to say hello to Mara. And you’re supposed to talk to at least three people before I can allow you to leave.”

  Why did I ever share my silly rules for socializing at these things with him? “Adam, Ross, Tom—”

  “And not your friends.”

  Mara’s voice stops me from growling out my annoyance and I turn to find her trotting down the large staircase to our left.

  “Hi!”

  I hurry over to meet her and give her a quick hug. “Everything looks great.”

  “Thank you.”

  My gaze narrows, giving her a more critical look. “Honey, your lipstick’s smudged.”

  “Oh, shit.” She lets out a nervous giggle and I dig in my purse for a compact and hand it to her.

  I step back, examining her a little closer. The green dress she’s wearing has a fitted top that both accents her assets and frames her flushed chest. “What were you up to?”

  “Who me?” she asks with an innocently raised eyebrow. “Well, I definitely was not upstairs. And my husband certainly did not bend me over a desk.”

  “Ahh, desk. Ross said you two were probably banging in a closet, but that didn’t seem right,” I tease.

  “He what? Where is that little shit?” She stops and it’s her turn to give me the critical once-over. “Why are you out in the foyer? You look like you’re about to bolt any second.” She glances at Rock. “Hi, Rock. Thank goodness you’re here or she would’ve left by now.”

  Rock laughs, but doesn’t respond to the observation. “We’ve been looking for you,” he says instead.

  “Here, let me take your coat, Hope. I’m sweating just looking at you.”

  “I think that’s because—”

  “Hello, Hope. Rock,” Damon greets as he descends the stairs. He stops behind Mara, curving an arm around her waist, looking completely calm and collected for a man who just nailed his wife over a desk—because yes, I totally believe that’s exactly what they were doing upstairs.

  “Come on, Hope. Hand over the coat,” Mara says, holding out her hands.

  Damon quirks an eyebrow at her and she shrugs. “I don’t want her jetting out the door.”

  Behind me, Rock chuckles and helps me slip off my coat. Damon holds out his hands and takes it away.

  “I can leave without it you know,” I say, facing Mara. “Rock will keep me warm.”

  She rolls her eyes. “I’m sure he will. Now come on, I want to introduce you to the chair of the small firms committee.”

  Immediately suspicious, I stop in my tracks. “Why?”

  “They need a co-chair.”

  “Oh, hell no. I don’t want to do that.” After my initial revulsion wears off, I think it over. “You know who would be good for it though? A friend of mine, Charlotte Clark.”

  “Is she here tonight?”

  “No, but I’ll mention it to her.”

  “I still want to introduce you.”

  “Fine.” I throw Rock one last pleading look, but he stands there, spreads his hands and shrugs, as if there’s nothing he can possibly do to save me from my determined friend.

  Three

  “Are you excited for your first tree, Alexa?” Charlotte asks, holding Alexa up and wiggling her from side to side.

  “Tweee!” Alexa yells. We took her to the lights in the park show the other night and she’s been yelling about trees, deer, and lights ever since. I can’t wait to see how she reacts when we get the tree in the house and all lit up.

  “Are you and Marcel going to the party tonight?” I ask.

  “I’m not sure yet.”

  “Will your uncle be there?”

  “As far as I know, he’s on the road.” She settles Alexa in her lap and hands her a plushy unicorn. “Are you upset you’re not going?”

  Do I like being included in club events? Yes. Do I want to hang out at Crystal Ball all night wondering which bunny or stripper has banged my fiancé in the past? Not so much.

  “I’m fine with skipping it. I just don’t want Murphy annoyed about missing it.”

  Charlotte casts a you’re-being-ridiculous look my way. She nods to the window. “Have you seen him? He’s more interested in decorating that tree tonight than anything else.”

  My mouth quirks. Murphy’s as excited about this as I am. I can’t deny it. “I haven’t had a real tree since I lived with my grandmother. She hated Christmas, but Marcel would sneak a tree in the house when she was at church or something.”

  “Marcel was horrified when I told him I wanted one of those artificial pre-lit trees. He claims the pine scent will be worth the mess of needles all over the house.”

  “That sounds like my brother.”

  Once the guys finish with the dangerous machinery, we join them outside again. Alexa bursts into tears at the sight of the mutilated trees. “Nooo. Tweee,” she cries, reaching her little mitten-covered hands toward the branches.

  “It’s okay. The trees are coming home with us.”

  At the word “home” she whips around. “Bed,” she states.

  “Are you tired?”

  She shakes her head no. But these days she answers no to, well, almost everything. She’ll be out cold before we hit the highway.

  Blake and Marcel load the trees into the back of the truck, securing them with rope while I buckle Alexa into her car seat.

  “I bought a few strands of lights, but don’t own enough ornaments for that monster,” I say once we’re on the road.

  “Are you planning to decorate your tree in a particular theme?” Charlotte asks.

  “Her theme when she was little was shove-as-much-tinsel-as-possible on the tree,” Marcel answers.

  “No one asked you.” I flick his shoulder. “No tinsel for our tree. It’s not baby-safe.”

  “I always wanted a hot-pink tree,” Charlotte says. “Pink lights, ornaments, garland. Monochromatic pink.”

  I can’t help laughing, because Charlotte has never struck me as a woman who yearns for a pink Christmas tree.

  “Pink’s not very Christmas-y,” Blake says.

  Her mouth twitches and I’m not sure if she’s upset or something else.

  “Well,” I say, patting Marcel’s shoulder. “The house is certainly big enough for more than one tree.”

  “No fake trees,” he grumbles.

  Blake reaches back and runs his hand up the back of my calf. “Alexa asleep?”

  “Yup.”

  When Marcel had said earlier that he had one stop to make, I never suspected he meant a storage facility. And I didn’t realize he still had boxes and furniture from our grandmother’s house and from his old apartment.

  Charlotte offers to stay in the car with Alexa, so I can help Marcel.

  “Why do you still have all this stuff?”

  He shrugs. “I got rid of most of it, but there were a few things I thought you might want once you had your own place.” He rearranges boxes until he finds what he wants. “Plus, I’ve been saving these for you.”

  I recognize the battered cardboard box he offers me right away. “Mom’s Christmas ornaments?”

  “A few might be broken, so be careful opening them around Alexa.”

  “You don’t want any of them?”

  “No, they should be yours.”

  Searching through this box of ornaments with my mother is one of the few happy memories I have of her. “Thank you, Marcel.”

  “Is there anything else you want?”

  I glance around the small space. “My old bedroom set and desk for Alexa? By the time we finally move into the house she’ll probably be able to use it.”

  “Done. Murphy said he’d help me clear it out this week. I’ll store the stuff at my pl

ace.” He slings an arm around my shoulder and pulls me closer, dropping a kiss on my forehead. “I’m so glad you’re here this year.”

  “Me too.”

  Four

  She hasn’t come out and said so, but Trinity’s nervous about the club’s Christmas party tonight. Maybe she’s not even aware of it. But I know my wife. She hasn’t stopped moving or working all day long and she’s been unusually quiet.

  First, she was up early baking cookies. Enough cookies to fill every flat surface in our kitchen.

  Then she sat down to check emails, which led to her scrolling through photo galleries and retouching pictures from a recent shoot.

  “Angel,” I say, coming up behind her. “Trinity Studio is closed until after New Year’s.”

  Without turning around, she shuts down her computer. “You’re right,” she says, standing and facing me. She still seems jittery.

  Luckily, I have something in mind to calm her down.

  A dirty, perverted fantasy I’ve been waiting to fulfill for a while now.

  She takes a step closer, curling her hands over my shoulders, and sliding her fingers against the base of my neck. “Are you feeling neglected?” she asks with a teasing pout.

  That actually hadn’t crossed my mind.

  “What are you wearing to the party tonight?”

  “Well, jeans if we’re riding. I’ll bring my dress and change there. It’s a stretchy velvet material that shouldn’t wrinkle too bad.”

  “Are you wearing stockings?”

  She narrows her eyes. “Why are you so concerned about my fashion choices all of a sudden?”

  I close my eyes. “I’m trying to get a visual.”

  Laughter, soft and sweet flows out of her and she pokes me in the chest. “You’ll see later.”

  “I have a present for you.”

  “It’s not Christmas yet.”

  “I’ve never been good at waiting.”

  “Wait.” She gives me a skeptical squint. “Is it a present for you or me?”

  “Both of us.”

  A spark of interest flares in her eyes. “Really?”

  I raise an eyebrow in a silent challenge and she holds out her hand and I guide her into the bedroom.

  Stalking over to my nightstand, I pull out the square package. I ordered this a couple days ago and since it came early, I figured it was a sign that I should use it on her tonight.

  I hand it to her and she laughs. “Remote controlled panty vibrator.” Her honey eyes stare up at me, sparkling with amusement. “When did you turn into such a sadistic bastard?”

  “You bring out the best in me.”

  She fists one of her hands in my shirt, pulling me down for a kiss. “What’s your game plan? You want me in the kitchen wearing this, an apron, and nothing else?”

  Hadn’t thought of that, but now that she mentioned it, it’s going on my list.

  “Yeah, we’ll definitely try that. But no, I thought you’d wear it for me tonight.”

  She raises an eyebrow. “Tonight? At the party?”

  My reasoning seemed sound in my head. It would keep her attention on me instead of worrying about anything else.

  “I’m not going to embarrass you in front of anyone. The whole point is no one knows but us.”

  She cocks her head and stares at me for a second. “Just how much porn do you watch when I’m at the studio?”

  “Angel, I don’t need porn.” I tap the side of my head. “We have years and years ahead of us before I run out of filthy things I want to do with you. Years.”

  I must be out of my damn mind to agree to this. But dammit, I have a hard time saying no to anything Wyatt wants. Anything. Even this. Which seems like a really bad idea.

  But also insanely hot.

  “I should have you wear this whenever we’re not together. That way you’d know how often I think about you.”

  I reach up and loop my arms around his neck. “Somehow you’re the best combination of sweet and dirty a woman could ask for.”

  “Thank you.”

  He hooks his fingers in my jeans and flips the button loose. Our eyes meet as he slowly works them down my hips.

  “Rules are,” he says in a low seductive voice that has the power to lull me into doing whatever he asks. “I’ll give you a buzz here and there. But you can’t come unless you’re with me.”

  “A buzz here and there won’t be enough anyway. I’ll probably look like I’m having a seizure.”

  He ducks his head and laughs while I kick my jeans to the side.

  “More than a buzz.”

  “That’s mean. What if you work me up so much that I can’t come at all?” I squeeze my thighs together just thinking about the unbearable frustration.

  He leans down and nips my earlobe. “Then I promise to suck on your little clit until you explode.”

  A full body shiver of excitement runs through me. “Uff,” I grunt. Great. Now my brain won’t function.

  “Let’s play with it at home before we leave.” His lips quirk. “Just to get the hang of it.”

  “Sure. We wouldn’t want it to malfunction at the party.”

  “Right,” he says, ignoring my sarcasm.

  He strips off my shirt and pushes me back on the bed. “Put your feet up,” he says, patting the mattress on either side of me.

  When I don’t put my feet quite as far apart as he wants, he wastes no time spreading me wider.

  His big warm hands tug my underwear down my legs. “Soaked,” he murmurs. “You’re more interested than you’re letting on.”

  He kneels in front of me, putting his face almost directly in my pussy. His big, rough hands run up and down my legs, soothing and relaxing me.

  “I don’t think anyone would believe the big bad Wrath gets on his knees for me.”

  He flicks his gaze up my body, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “You’re my queen. I’ll always bow to you.” He seals that promise with a feathery kiss against the inside of my ankle, then brushes his lips over the other foot. “Only you.”

  My eyes burn from the sweet reverence in his voice. I reach down and capture one of his hands. “I love you, Wyatt.”

  “Love you too, Angel.”

  A hint of wickedness enters his voice. “Now, let’s test this out.”

  He holds up the panty contraption and I pick up my feet for him to slip it on. “Lift up,” he says when he reaches my hips.

  I’m panting with anticipation and excitement by the time he has it placed the way he wants. He holds up small black square with a clicker-type button in the center. “Tonight, I’ll use this. But I can also program it from my phone.”

  “Goody.”

  My sass is rewarded with a flick of a button.

  “Oh, shit!” Once the initial shock wears off, I realize the vibration isn’t even that strong. More of a pleasant humming.

  “How’s that?” he asks, running his hands over my legs and hips.

  “Nice.”

  “Just nice? Hmm.” He flicks the button up another notch.

  “Good.”

  Another level.

  “Oh! Okay. Whoa. That’s more intense.”

  He grunts in satisfaction and sets it at the highest level.

  My hips shoot up and I let out a sharp scream. “Holy fuck.”

  “Strong little thing, right?” he asks with an evil laugh. Christ, he’s dangerous with a new toy.

  “Fuck. Yes.”

  He slips his hand between my legs, pressing the little unit tight against me and I fucking lose it. “Fuck, Wyatt.”

  Jealous of the little toy or impatient—I can’t tell which—he shoves it aside and buries his face against me, eagerly sucking and licking.

  Overwhelmed, I bury my hands in his hair, pulling harder than I mean to. He growls a warning against me, but I’m way too far gone, screaming and bucking against his face.

  Then his mouth is gone and the vibrator returns.

  “Need to fuck you,” h

e grinds out.

  I blink and he’s tearing off his clothes, shoving his jeans down, but too frantic to take them all the way off. I’d help, but I can’t move.

  He falls on the bed next to me. “Up.”

  When I don’t move fast enough, he sits up and pulls me on top of him. I fumble with the panty thing and he brushes my hands away. “Leave it. My cock needs to snuggle up with your pussy. Now.”

  I’m embarrassingly slippery and easily slide down, groaning the whole time.

  “Good. Fuck. So good, Angel.”

  His hands clamp down on my hips and he moves me the way he needs. Up and down, back and forth. I’m a happy, blissful ragdoll in his grasp.

  He comes with a roar a few minutes later and pulls me down, hugging me to his chest. After a couple seconds, he kisses the top of my head.

  “I think level four is for home-use only,” he teases.

  He pats the mattress until he finds the remote and shuts it off.

  “Oh, thank God. I don’t think I can take anymore.”

  “Well, you better rest up, because you’re definitely wearing that tonight.”

  I run my teeth over his nipple and he groans. “Stop.”

  Another little nip has him flicking the panties back on.

  And that’s how we spend the rest of our afternoon. Teasing and tormenting each other into unconsciousness.

  Five

  “Did our wives take off?” Damon asks as he returns from the coat check.

  I tilt my head toward the main room the party’s being held in. “Mara seemed very determined to introduce Hope to some people.”

  “She’s invested in having more female attorneys in leadership positions.” The corners of his mouth twitch in a way that says he’s proud of whatever it is Mara’s working toward. “She’ll have Hope volunteering for a dozen committees before you leave.”

  Somehow I doubt that. As sweet as my wife is, she rarely gets talked into doing anything she doesn’t want to do. “I hear you’re running for State Senate.”