Craving You

“This is dangerous, Tague.” L.L. honestly had no idea how she’d make it through the dinner. “I need to feel you inside me again.”

But then there was a gentle chime that signaled the food was ready to be served, so they couldn’t slip away to the suite Tague had booked.

L.L. said, “I have to step into the ladies’ room before we’re seated.”

He released her, though his hand moved to the small of her back as he guided her to the facilities. Just feeling his heated touch on her bare skin kept her sexually charged, the orgasm only slightly taking the edge off.

She wanted him. Desperately.

“I’ll wait here for you,” he told her when they reached the door.

L.L. hit one of the stalls to clean up, then she washed her hands and was in the middle of powdering her nose and still-rosy cheeks, when she got another jolt—and not the electrifying type Tague evoked.

“I was beginning to think the two of you were fused at the hip,” came June Mason’s haughty voice.

L.L. glanced up and their gazes met in the mirror before her. “Your son is a remarkable man.”

“Yes, I know.” She whipped out a tube of lipstick and dotted her bottom lip, then rubbed both of them together. “His father and I have very high expectations of him.”

“I’m sure he always exceeds them.”

“Mm,” was all she said as she once again eyed L.L. critically. “That’s a lovely bracelet you’re wearing. A gift from Tague?”

“Why would you assume that?”

With her smug smile, June said, “The mall-bought earrin

gs with the dress. Borrowed is it?”

“The dress is Prada,” L.L. assured her, through clenched teeth. “Not borrowed.”

“Well, it’s quite exquisite with your figure. I can see where my son would be so taken with you.”

“And I’ve left him waiting. If you’ll excuse me.” L.L. turned to go, but didn’t even make it to the door before Tague’s mother got in another barb.

“I’m afraid his interests lie elsewhere, my dear. I wouldn’t get too comfortable as his ‘date’. Or being the recipient of his generosity.”

L.L. no longer let anyone get the best of her. Meg and Jace wouldn’t have stood for it. Perhaps Tague wouldn’t, either.

Over her shoulder, she said to June, “He is generous. Intelligent. Strong. Clearly his own man, one who makes his own decisions, determines his own destiny.” She smiled brightly. “Like I said. Remarkable.”

She continued on her way. Found Tague standing where she’d left him, looking impatient.

“I tried to stall her as long as possible,” he said without preamble.

“Don’t worry about it.” L.L. kissed his cheek. “I don’t give a fuck, remember?”

27

He told her, “I can see differently. You’re incredibly tense.”

And her stomach was knotted again. But Tague had warned her from the beginning that his parents wouldn’t approve her, because she wasn’t a part of their elitist world. So there really was no winning them over. She just had to focus on what truly was important this evening—being with Tague.

He took her hand. “Let’s grab another glass before we sit.”

The others were just starting to make their way to the three long tables, each one already headed by the owners of Mason, Hoffman & Stein. June swept past Tague and L.L. and joined her husband. Unfortunately, the seating arrangements put Tague at his father’s right, with L.L. sitting next to him, diagonal to June, on Harper’s left.

L.L. tried to relax. She sipped as the table slowly filled. Once everyone was settled, Harper stood and tapped his knife against his water goblet to silence the room. Then he launched into firm business, centered around profit margins, grand successes—including his son’s—and the annual bonuses. Finally, he toasted his partners, the associates, the staff. A rousing wave of applause ensued.