Beneath Your Beautiful, page 21
And I will be painfully hard the entire night thinking about it.
Cleo
Lucky Amy.
I snort. The fact she keeps getting her name wrong is testament to how bothered she is by me going on a date. She needn’t worry; I have zero interest in Amalee. I am there for one reason only—for this girl wearing black and pink for me while on a date with my best friend.
Fox
Take pleasure in the fact you will give me blue balls the entire night. I will be in pain as I imagine exactly what you are wearing underneath your dress.
Cleo
And what if I end up with blue balls and feeling all sexy and unsatisfied?
I trip up and catch myself before I faceplant on the asphalt.
Fox
Wasn’t aware of your ball situation.
Cleo
What the fuck, Fox? What is…
I wish like hell I had thought to set up cameras in her room already. I would pay good money to witness these reactions.
Fox
Yes?
Cleo
I have questions about your decision making skills. At what point did you think it was appropriate to buy me these things?
Fox
When I had you in my arms with your lips on mine.
Cleo
I made a mistake.
Fox
Make more.
Cleo has blocked you.
I shake my head and start running back to the house. Tonight is going to be interesting.
CHAPTER 30
HONOR
The things you can find on the internet…
I’m living with a certifiable psycho. That’s the only explanation for his decision to purchase a bouquet of sex toys and leave a note like it’s a normal housemate gift.
Only you can own your pleasure.
I glance at the clock. I have a couple of hours to get ready for the disaster date, and there’s no way I’m wearing the pink and the black. I drag my lip between my teeth and shut the box before opening the closet, ready to toss it inside. I assume one can’t return unwanted sex toys, so I guess they’ll gather dust until I leave. Then Fox can have a party with them, perhaps with Amalee.
My heart twists. Amalee Cage is perfection—the sort of woman Gideon wanted to shape me into. I could never understand why he didn’t just marry someone more suited to him. It’s not like he was short of offers.
I freeze as I open the closet, finding a familiar red dress hanging next to the black one I picked out. My fingers trail over the note punctured through the hook.
Nobody can steal your fire and light unless you let them.
My lips twitch as I find another note tacked on the black dress.
Are we attending a funeral?
My eyes drop to the box in my hands. Wildly inappropriate? Yes. But now the note makes a little more sense. Fox is trying to give me the tools to fight my way back to the woman I once was. It’s a shame she’s dead. You can’t be in a marriage like mine and not have it alter your brain chemistry. I drag in a breath and let it out slowly. But I’m barely living now. I’m not sure I will ever stop looking over my shoulder, but I can grasp onto the rays of light whenever I see them. That’s what this dress is, a slither of sunshine in the darkness. And the toys are the inky darkness that make the contrast all that much sweeter.
Let’s do this. I grab the red dress and lay it on the bed next to the box. Time to introduce Fox Alderidge to the real Cleo Williams. I hurry out of the pool house and find Helen curled up with a book and Duke on the sofa.
“I need your help,” I say as I wring my hands together. It’s been so long since I wore even light makeup.
Helen smiles and closes her book as she rises. “About time.”
I blink at her. “What?”
She ushers me up the stairs and toward her bedroom. “You are going to make him speechless.”
“Sam is never speechless.”
She pushes her hands on my shoulders, forcing me to sit on the stool in front of her dressing table. “That’s who you are trying to impress?”
“I’m not trying to impress anyone,” I mutter as I glare at her in the mirror. “But your grandson is determined to push me out of my shell, so I’m giving him exactly what he wants.”
“God help him,” Helen says with a smirk. “It’s about time a woman made him weak in the knees.”
“He’s going on a date with Amalee, not me.”
“No, he’s attending a date you agreed to with his best friend. Amalee is the excuse to not make him seem like the third wheel. So my question to you is, are we going for a widening of the eyes, or are we leveling these men who think they know better to their knees?”
I grin at her. “Knees, always the knees.”
She squeezes my shoulder. “Good girl. What color are you wearing?”
“Red.”
“Shade?”
“Blood.”
“Then half my work is done. But let’s go for a dramatic smoky eye, some gentle contouring, and a shade of lipstick to match the dress. Nails, we can do in gold.” She pulls my hair tie out and lets the long mop fall down my back. “Soft but bouncy waves. Sound good?”
I drag in a breath and shove down the rising panic that dressing to purposefully attract brings. “Let’s do this.”
Helen works a goddamn miracle in less than an hour. I’m almost unrecognizable. What’s even better is that it’s a look Honor has never rocked. It’s dark, mysterious, and sultry—a reflection of everything inside my soul, and I love it. She even packed me off with some essentials so I can recreate it.
Standing in my bathroom, I stare down at the box Fox gave me. Do I take the challenge he’s laid at my feet? Dirty dreams and night time rumblings aren’t getting me off, so it’s time to try something different. I pull out the black object and unwrap it. I’ve never done butt stuff. Gideon thought it was dirty, and before him, my sex life was fairly mainstream. I think an ex-boyfriend slapped my ass once, and I might have kicked him like a donkey.
I drop the butt plug and pick up the slightly less scary bright pink bullet, which, according to the instructions, vibrates so quietly you can enjoy it on the go. Maybe orgasms on the subway are how people manage the commute to work.
I also pull out the small bottle of lube Fox so kindly added for me. Guess that’s for the plug. What was going through his head when he made the decision to order this? I glance at the note. This isn’t for him, it’s for me—which is why I’m about to accept the challenge to wear the damn pink and black.
I grab the underwear I’d laid on the bed and take my toys to the sink before washing them. How does one insert a butt plug? I retreat, grab my phone, and then lock myself into the bathroom. Google, don’t fail me now. Oh, interesting—it’s a question on Quora. It seems I’m not alone. Okay. Lube? Check. Deep breathing exercises? Umm, I mean, I can breathe, so that’s halfway there.
Insert the tip, relax, then withdraw. Then try again. I glance at the time on the phone. I have twenty minutes max before Fox comes to find me, and I don’t want it to be with a butt plug stuck halfway in my ass. If I feel pain, stop. No shit. People really need to be instructed to stop if it’s painful?
I smother the bulb in lube and take a sniff. It’s fruity, like mango or something exotic. Does that make a difference to how it feels? How am I so sheltered after living through a relationship with Gideon? Resting my palms on the counter, I lean forward and stare at myself in the mirror. Honor would have never even considered this. She would have dumped the box in Fox’s room and never looked back. But Cleo is curious and ready to take a step out of her comfort zone. If you do nothing different, how can you expect things to change? Am I any freer than I was six months ago if I constantly live in fear? I need to embrace the challenge, to live a little and make Fox Alderidge squirm.
I watch an informative video, and ninety seconds later, I feel like a porn star. Okay, just the tip first, it’s not that big.
I gasp. “Jesus fucking Christ. How do people do this?” I mutter to the mirror. “More importantly, why do people do this?” My body gives me a firm signal that we don’t put things in here; it’s where things come out. My cheeks flush and a fine layer of sweat glistens on my chest. My cheeks flush as I wiggle it back and forth. No pain, deep breathing, and relax. It pops in, my body literally sucks it. Interesting. I straighten and wiggle my butt. Oh, that’s an unusual sensation. Not painful, just unusual. It makes me very much aware of all the sensations down there. Perhaps that’s the point?
I eyeball the pink mini bullet vibrator as I slip on the red silk panties which match the dress perfectly. Then I slip it inside and nestle it against my clit. I grab the tiny remote control and press the on button. My hand slaps against the vanity. “Holy shit.” I can’t come just before I go out on a date. That would be weird, right? I switch it off and press my lips together as a rumble of laughter tries to break free.
After exiting the bathroom, I pull on the dress and slide the remote control, phone, and lipstick into the borrowed black clutch. To finish, I push my feet into the designer black pumps with those famous red soles. Apparently, Helen just happened to have these shoes in her closet, even though they aren’t her size.
One last glance in the mirror, and my mouth parts at my reflection. I look like someone else. Someone who wears sex toys outside the bedroom apparently. This is going to be an interesting night.
I head out of the door and into the main house. Fox is in the kitchen with his back to me as he takes a drink of water. Duke potters over, nudging my hand for some attention. I bend to give him some love and gasp at the sensation.
“Hello, my precious boy,” I mutter. “I need to go out for a few hours so we can convince Sam I’m not a princess, and then I’ll be back and we can hit the sofa with a book.” He huffs in agreement as I stand, and Fox turns to face me. His jaw drops, and his eyes widen.
“Holy cow. I changed my mind. The red dress is a bad idea. Wear the black.”
I park my hands on my hips and level a glare at him. “Not a chance. I’m not getting ready all over again.”
He shakes his head and takes a step toward me. I hold my ground and tilt my head back as he approaches. His fingertips trail up the column of my throat before grasping my chin to stare into my eyes. “You look stunning, like a siren calling to the strongest of sailors, luring them to the watery depths. They would no doubt go willingly with a smile on their faces.”
I blink. It’s been far too long since anyone looked at me like this. Like I am desirable and perfect, even with all my flaws. Actually, I’m not sure anyone has ever looked at me like this—with a single-minded determination to strip me naked. And I’m not just talking about my clothes.
“Is everything else you’re wearing comfortable?” he asks as he clears his throat to break the weird tension.
“Black and pink, as requested.”
He drags a hand down his face and groans. “Now I’m going to have blue balls all night knowing exactly what you’re wearing underneath that dress, and that you’re wearing it for me.”
“That sounds like a you problem, and one of your own making. But rest assured, you might have blue balls, but it’s me that’s going to be uncomfortable.”
“Did I not get you the right size?”
I scowl. “There are sizes?”
He scratches the back of his head. “I believe so.”
“Sure, the sizing was fine. A little difficult to put on, but I got the hang of it.”
He tilts his head like he’s trying to understand my words. I’m not spelling it out for him. Fucking pervert. He shakes his head and takes a step back.
“Let’s go before I say fuck it to the date portion of the evening and beg you for a private show.”
A small voice in my head urges him to do exactly that—throw me down and have his wicked way with me. Perhaps that’s what the new Cleo wants and needs. Maybe, just maybe, I should find out.
CHAPTER 31
FOX
She’s whiskey and fire.
She’s a dangerous distraction, looking like every man’s wet dream in that dress. I can hardly keep my eyes on the road knowing she’s wearing the underwear I picked out for her. She squirms in the leather seat.
“Are you okay?”
She flicks her gaze to the side and arches her brow. “I’m just peachy wearing this super comfortable stuff you got me.”
I frown in confusion. The “stuff” wasn’t cheap—that’s silk and lace against her porcelain skin. My thumbs tap the steering wheel to the beat of some 1980s air rock as I try to ignore her pressing her thighs together.
Oh, now I get it. It’s not the material of the lingerie making her feel uncomfortable, it’s making her feel sexy, and she’s been avoiding that out in public.
My face breaks into a grin. If I have to walk around with blue balls all night, then she has to walk around with whatever the female version is. Lady blue balls?
As long as she doesn’t give in to my best friend’s charms and allow him to take the edge off what I have started. I’m ninety-five percent sure she will stay true to her convictions and push Sam away, then disappear into her room to either hide from the desire or, as I hope, use the toys to get herself off. She has to learn to take back control of her pleasure and push out the demons that stalk her.
I’m here to get under her skin, to make her itch until she has to scratch—until she’s consumed with only pleasure and feels safe enough to explore it. Not that I’m mollycoddling her. That’s not who I am, and it’s not what she needs. If it was, I’d push her into Sam’s waiting arms. He’s great at playing the knight in shining armor, while I’m the beast that stalks the shadows.
Thinking of her stripping out of that dress makes me hard. I’m desperate to see her in something I chose. There’s a possessive glint to that thought I’m unfamiliar with.
She reaches forward and turns up the volume on the radio, and my seat vibrates. She huffs and turns it back down, making my lips twitch. Oh yeah. She is ready to blow.
I wonder what she’ll enjoy from the selection of toys. Nope, damn it, now I’m the one ready to blow.
She hums to the tune and white knuckles the clutch in her lap. I can’t tell if it’s a nervous reaction to going on a date or whether it’s just being in the car with me.
She suddenly stops, causing me to glance over. Her lips part and a blush creeps on her cheeks. Holy shit, how is sexy lingerie doing this? I haven’t even laid a finger on her.
She closes her eyes and releases a low groan that goes straight to my already hard cock. I want to be there the first time she climaxes after months of pent-up frustration. She’s going to go off like a firework, and I want to bear witness to the pleasure consuming her as it blasts through the walls she’s erected. She drags her bottom lip between her teeth and the contrast with the crimson stain causes me to slow down so I can steal more glances. Fuck the pointless date. We shouldn’t be wasting another second with people neither of us see a future with. Even a short-term one.
She forces her hands to relax before flicking her eyes open and releasing her lip. “You doing okay, firecracker?” I rumble.
“I’m fine. It’s my fault—I accepted the challenge. Now I’m paying the consequences.”
I shake my head. “Relax. If you walk into the bar looking like you’re going to strip the nearest man to his skin and ride him like a bronco, Sam will think it’s for him.”
“Who’s to say it isn’t?”
I chuckle. “You have made it clear this date is to show Sam you are everything he doesn’t need or want. If there is any stripping, it will be for me.”
“Cocky, aren’t we?”
“Self assured. Tell me I’m wrong.”
“You’re wrong.”
My head snaps to the side, finding her lips twitching. “About which part?”
She shrugs. “That’s for you to figure out.”
I shake my head at myself. These are my consequences, so I guess I have to own them. I drive down Main Street and pull into the parking lot of the bar and grill. It’s Saturday night, so it’s rammed full of old and young townsfolk. It’s the place to be unless you want to take the longer road into the city.
I put the parking brake on and climb out of the car, rounding the front and opening the passenger door like the gentleman I can choose to be. What’s surprising is that Miss Independent hasn’t launched herself from my car.
I poke my head inside and offer her my hand. “You coming?”
Her eyebrows dip. “Very funny.”
She fumbles in her purse before dropping something small and plastic in my hand. “I can’t use that, you do it. Have fun.”
She barges past me toward the bar’s entrance. I turn the odd object over with a frown. What the hell is this? I slam the car door and stride across the parking lot, my legs eating up the distance so I reach the door at the same time as Cleo. I pull it open and usher her inside.
“What’s this?” I whisper in her ear.
Goosebumps erupt down her neck and before I think better of it, I nip the sensitive lobe of her ear. She stumbles just as Sam and Amalee turn on their bar stools to greet us. I slide the unknown object in my jeans pocket. I’ll have to figure out what it is later.
Sam greets Cleo in a weird half-hug, half-kiss on the cheek thing you’d offer your grandmother. I resist the urge to shake my head. He meets my eyes, his gaze already wide as he fucks up even the simplest of things. You’re on your own, buddy. Then a warm body presses against me, and Amalee reaches up to lay a kiss on my mouth. I twist my head to the side, so her lips graze my cheek. There’s only one woman’s mouth I want to feel pressed to mine, and she’s all fire and spice, not ice and control.
