shoe and bust your tail in front all these people.”
The woman talks big, but while she’s hootin’ and hollerin’, she’s sinking down into the couch, making herself comfortable for her mortuary makeover.
“Almost forgot,” I say, reaching into my coat pocket. “I have a little something for you too.”
When I hand Whitney the little blue box, I’m pretty damn sure every adult in the room stops breathing.
“What’s this?” Whitney’s fingers tremble over the ribbon.
“Not that! Breathe,” I say. “Just open it.”
She takes a long drawn-out breath before lifting the lid and removing the white gold charm bracelet. “I can’t decide if I should kiss you or punch you,” she says after examining each trinket: a hammer to represent yours truly, a makeup brush for her, a little combat boot for Prissy, and my personal favorite and the one that has her so conflicted…
“Why’d you give that girl a bracelet with a dumpster on it?” Pop asks, fixing his glasses on his nose to examine it further.
“You son of a bitch,” Hank howls, slapping his knee.
“Dayum, Whit.” The fire in Wyatt’s gaze as he looks me over in my shimmery silver mini dress and matching stilettos has my blood running hot and warmth pooling between my legs. Or maybe that wetness stems from how delicious he looks in his three-piece suit. Hubba hubba. “We could skip the party and stick to the original plan…head back to my place?” His teeth scrape over his lower lip ever so slowly while he backs me up against the door, his fingers slipping just inside the low V that ends at the small of my back. “Make our own fireworks…”
“As tempting as that is,” I croon, flattening my palms over his pecs and leaning in close to run the tip of my nose over the bend of his neck, hovering in place when I reach his ear. “My very resourceful boyfriend managed to snag a room and tickets to the most coveted party in the city.”
“Is that so? He sounds like a pretty cool guy.”
“The coolest. How did you manage that so last minute, by the way?”
He splays his fingers over my bare back, nipping at my jaw. “That new job I just landed?” His lips skate along mine, sending sparks of desire firing off every nerve ending in my body. “Building the pool house?”
“Yeah,” I rasp, already lust drunk.
“It’s for the owner’s son.”
“Nice.” I slip a hand between us, palming the steel rod digging into my hip. “You are so fucking hot; I can’t stand it,” I growl giving his cock a firm squeeze while pressing my thighs tightly together.
His answering laugh oozes sexual frustration. “And yet…you still want to go to this party?”
“Foreplay,” I whisper, grazing my tongue over the shell of his ear. “We’re always so rushed. For the first time ever, we have all night.” I slip my hands inside his jacket and around to his back, grabbing two fists full of his firm ass. “I’m going to enjoy every second of torturing you, because I know what awaits at the night’s end will be well worth it.” Clenching my fingers, I glide my tongue along the seam of his lips. “I can’t wait to watch you lose control.”
I feel his dick twitch against my abdomen before he scrubs a hand over his face with a groan. “Let’s go and get this over with.” His voice is uncharacteristically gritty, as if his vocal cords have been brushed with sandpaper. Wyatt laces his fingers between mine and brings my hand to his mouth for a kiss. “Before I settle for a quick fuck in the prep room.”
I pinch my puckered lips, twisting them to one side. “Now, I might be convinced to be a little late in that case.”
The Winchester Regency is the place to be. Anyone who knows anything about New Year’s Eve in New Orleans knows this, while few actually get the chance to experience it. The place is known to book up a year or more in advance. So, I must admit, I feel like hot shit checking into a balcony suite on tonight of all nights.
“Wanna give the bed a test run?” Wyatt asks when we pop into our room to rid ourselves of our bags. His brows do a sexy little bounce as he fists his hands out in front of him and begins thrusting his hips.
The man is relentless. And goofy. And so damn gorgeous it drives me to distraction.
“And ruin my makeup and hair?” I scoff.