And I couldn’t help but agree with everyone else… she was exceptional.
Her hair was in curls, her makeup was dark, and she’d painted her lips the sexiest color, a deep red that almost looked burgundy. Diamond earrings sat in her lobes, and that dress fit her perfect body in the sexiest way.
We didn’t talk during the drive home, and we didn’t have music on either. It was just silence.
My eyes were on the road when I felt her hand reach for my thigh. Her fingers gently dug into my slacks, her sharp nails reminding me of the way she’d cut my back in the past. After the squeeze, her fingers continued to rest there, subtly inviting me to her bed tonight.
It was tempting.
I turned to her and saw the way she looked at me, the way her mascara made her eyelashes look so thick. They made her eyes stand out so beautifully, especially when she wore dark colors that enhanced their vibrancy. Her lips were delectable in that shade, the perfect color to smear against my base after as she gave me a deep kiss.
I eye-fucked her the way everyone else had that evening.
I forced my gaze back on the road so we wouldn’t crash, slightly distracted by the way her fingers kept digging into me. Her hand moved higher until she found exactly what she was looking for—my hard dick.
We arrived at the house minutes later, tensions running high. She wanted me, and with the way she looked tonight, I wanted her too.
But I was still pissed about the stunt she’d pulled. My father was now my enemy, and I had to watch my back every second of the day because I never knew when he would strike. That made me push her away, made me wish I didn’t find her attractive at that moment.
We went into the house and walked to the second floor, where I would drop her off before continuing on my way to my bedroom on the next landing. I wanted to dismiss her and turn away, but her fingers snaked into mine until they were locked together.
It reminded me of the way she’d gripped my hand at the funeral, how she conveyed so much emotion in that simple embrace. She’d squeezed our fingers together, tears streaking down her face. She’d told me I was her rock…the only man she could count on.
It always turned me on when she needed me. And she needed me now.
She faced me, her hand still held in mine. In those heels, she was much taller than usual, her back dipping at a beautiful angle to make her ass stick out even farther. She moved into me, her fingers releasing from mine so she could push her hands up my chest. Slowly, her fingers dug under my jacket until she pushed it off my shoulders, leaving me in just my collared shirt. She wanted me—and she didn’t want there to be any misunderstanding.
She stepped closer to my chest and pressed her lips to mine, her eyes still open as she looked at me. Her lips landed softly, like a teardrop on a pillow. She inhaled the second she felt my mouth, like the chemistry was just as strong as ever. Her eyes closed, and her hand slid into my hair as she brought me in for a passionate kiss.
I let her pull me, let her have me. My lips moved with hers, and the taste of cheesecake was impossible to ignore. I could taste the sweetness as it combined with her desire, making it the best thing I’d ever tasted. My hands moved to her ass, and I bent my neck down as she continued to pull me into her.
She moaned into my mouth.
My hands gripped her ass under her dress, feeling the soft skin of her cheeks as well as the lace of her thong.
“Fuck me.” She spoke against my mouth, enticing me with her touch. Her demand came out heavy, the words weighed down with so much desire. She pulled off the order so well, making it sexy enough for a fantasy.
I knew every man in that room tonight wished he were me right now.
But that wasn’t enough to make me drop my pants. That wasn’t enough to invite her into my bed for the night. It didn’t matter how sexy her legs were, how good of a kisser she was. She’d crossed me—and I still wasn’t over it.
I ended the kiss and pulled back. “Goodnight, Sheep.”
She stood there with parted lips, wounded by the way I’d rejected her. Disbelief was in her gaze, as if she couldn’t believe I’d turned her down—again. Desire was still in her eyes, like she would take me if I changed my mind. “Maverick—”
“I’m still pissed at you.” As her husband, I would always protect her from clingy assholes who didn’t understand the meaning of no. I would defend her from the sexist comments men couldn’t hold back. I would buy her a new car when she gave her old one away. But I wouldn’t turn the other cheek when she betrayed what I cared about most—trust.