Never Say Never, page 15
“You’ve changed,” I say as she comes in and offers me a hug. It may as well be a Wellesley family reunion. “All grown up.”
“You too,” Nina says. “I’m getting married next weekend.”
“Congrats.”
Muffy clears her throat, and we all turn her way. “Nina, darling, there’s something I need to tell you. It isn’t easy for me to say this, but I know Cormac was supposed to be one of your ushers. I’ve spoken to Topper’s attorneys, and it sounds like the Feds are going after Cormac, too. I’m not sure what his involvement has been with everything going on at Blue Prism, but Cormac is going to be charged as well.”
“Aunt Muffy, I’m so sorry.” Nina offers her a hug.
Serves the fucking prick right.
I bite away a smile so big it’ll light up the room.
“With everything going on, our attorneys have asked the men to lay low for a bit, and I certainly wouldn’t want to cause a scene or attract any negative attention at your wedding, my dear.”
“I completely understand, Aunt Muffy.” Nina takes Muffy’s hands and nods. Muffy has the kindest delivery of anyone I know, especially when it comes to bad news.
“Unfortunately, this leaves you without an usher and limited time to find a replacement. I’m terribly sorry.”
“When’s your wedding, Nina?” I ask.
“Next Saturday,” she says. Her brows are lifted into a hopeful line.
“I can do it.”
“You sure?” Nina bites her lip.
“Absolutely.”
Muffy sends a pleased smile my way. “You always were a class act, Theo. I knew from the day Topper first told me about you that you were a special little boy, and now you’ve grown up to be an amazing man.”
“Thank you.”
“Gigi, we must get going. We’re going to miss our reservation at Butter.” Muffy kisses Nina goodbye and returns to me, leaning in as if she’s about to whisper something into my ear. “You were always my favorite, Theo. You were my chosen son.”
The wedding ceremony was dreamy, but the reception is spectacular.
Nina and Charlie grab more champagne as they make their rounds, her red lipstick worn off from all the times he’s kissed her tonight. He hasn’t left her side. Not once. They’re glued at the hip and loving every second of it.
The flower girls are twirling on the dance floor and beside them, Theo is cutting a rug dressed in a tux with Muffy, whose gigantic smile outshines the shimmery Gucci dress she’s wearing.
He reminds me of the Theo I first met a couple years back at Addison and Wilder’s wedding. I stand back, out of the way, and quietly admire the fact that all eyes are on the handsome man stealing the spotlight. Theo is so serious 99% of the time, but here, in the company of mostly strangers, he can let loose and have a swell time.
Not many people can do that.
Not many people can do what Theo does, the way he does it.
Muffy was right. He is special, and he is special in the most wonderful of ways.
I make my way to the bar, where Nina’s cousins are working their way towards drunken stupors, when I pause and glance back at Theo. I could watch him all night; spinning Muffy in circles, laughing, pulling her toward him and box stepping as the live band plays “Saturday In the Park.”
Five minutes later, I’m carrying two beers toward an empty table and scanning the perimeter for my date. He’s not dancing anymore. He’s not talking to Muffy or Gigi.
“Looking for me?” His hand grazes my lower back, sending an electric charge up my spine.
“Thought I lost you for a second.”
He grabs the extra beer and takes a sip. “Never.”
Theo sits next to me and finishes his beer, staring at me as if he’s weighing his options for the rest of the evening. It’s getting late, and the party’s beginning to wind down, but I’m not ready for this night to end.
“You look like you’re ready to go,” I say.
“Not yet.” His eyes glint. “I want to dance with my girl first, and then I’m going to take her home with me.”
***
I step out of my shoes the second the hotel door clicks shut behind us. The air is chilled, bringing my tingling skin to a sensitive state. My dress hugs my ribs, and the tulle beneath the skirt has been scratching against my legs all night. I’m desperate to get this thing off.
Theo’s hand brushes against the side of my cheek, and I feel the weight of his gaze as it intensifies the flickering flame that’s been burning in the deepest parts of me all night. His hands skate around my hips and up toward the system of hooks and loops that hold my dress together.
Hot lips press into my neck, just below my ear. “You ever going to wear this again?”
“No.”
With one effortless rip, my dress is torn and floats to a pile of ivory tulle and champagne taffeta at my feet. His fingers unhook my strapless bra and it falls, too. Theo’s strong hands cup my ass, and he lifts me up as if I’m lighter than air. Carrying me to his bed, he lays me down softly before removing his jacket and concentrating on the rise and fall of my chest. The hotel room is dark, but I can make out the curve of his shoulders and the outline of every ripple and indentation along the length of his abs as his hands work his shirt buttons one by one. The white shirt falls to the floor as his hands move to his belt buckle. A clink and then a metallic zip fill the silence between us, and his boxer briefs are melded to his body as if they were couture. He tugs down to unleash his hardness, and it’s fucking flawless.
Theo’s cock is a thing of beauty. I’d go so far as to call it a gift, too. My tongue glides against my upper lip, and I swallow the lump in my throat that my anticipation has placed there.
He lowers himself to the bed, sliding in beside me and placing a warm hand across my bare belly. Theo leans in, pressing his hot mouth into the soft flesh above my belly button, and peppers soft kisses upwards until he reaches the crescent between my breasts. His hand travels down and back until it cups my ass, and he gives it a hungry squeeze.
“I’ve been craving you, Skylar.” He moans my name. “Ever since that night, when you let me taste you.” He swirls a circle around my nipple before taking it in his mouth and pulling it pert. “I didn’t want to rush this with you, but I don’t think I can wait any longer.”
“I’m lying here, naked in your bed,” I say slowly. “I’m not going to stop whatever’s about to happen.”
I couldn’t even if I tried. The heat between my thighs is an unbearable fire that can only be extinguished by his touch.
His hand glides to my thigh, spreading it wide before he slides his fingers inside my wetness. In and out, fast and slow. My body awakens with his touch. Life begins now.
His fingers drift away slowly before he brings them to his mouth and tastes them.
“God, you’re so fucking sweet, Skylar.”
He leans into me, taking my nipple into his mouth again, and his hardness grazes my thigh, commanding my hips to pull in his direction. With the head of his perfect cock inches from my entrance, my mouth burns with a desire to take him before he takes me. My body twists in half, my hands gripping his shaft. Within seconds my lips find the heat of his cock, and my tongue swirls around his head. His shaft fills my palms, and the tip of his hardness fills my mouth.
His groans are divinely wicked, and they encourage me to keep going. I want to please him. I want to gift him with the kind of pleasure he gifted me.
“Oh, God…” He inhales sharply, and his body hardens as I continue sampling his length. His hand brushes my shoulder, gently pushing me back. “You’re fucking amazing at that, but that’s not what I want tonight.”
My cheeks blush even in the dark.
“I want to be closer to you, Skylar. I want to be inside you. I want to feel you cum on my cock, and I want to fuck over and over, all night, until we pass out.” His fingertips trace my inner thigh and stop when he reaches my sex. He slips a finger between my soaked lips and massages my clit with his thumb. “You want it too.”
I nod.
He rolls over, grabbing a condom from his wallet and tearing the packet with his teeth. Rolling it over his girth, he climbs back to me. I hook my thighs around his hips, and he readies his cock at my entrance. Pressing it in only partly, he wears a sweet, teasing smile.
I want him deep inside me, every fucking inch of him, and I’m not above begging. My nails dig into his muscled shoulders like a silent, desperate plea, and when Theo finally drives his length inside me, I release a pent up breath. It’s a sweet pain, and my body welcomes the intensity as if it’s the only remedy for the way it trembles when he touches me.
Our bodies are one. Where mine stops, his begins. His groans are fierce and rumble from the deepest parts of his beautiful soul. His eyes flash in the dark, saturating me as he continues to sink inside me slowly, savoring each thrust second by second.
I don’t want this to end.
Ever.
If my body weren’t so busy fighting off the urge to come all over the thickness of his beautiful cock, I’d be crying into his chest like a crazy person.
Theo makes me feel normal.
He makes me feel wanted.
He makes me feel like I’m not alone anymore.
Theo’s hand reaches for my face, turning it and guiding it back to him as he leans down and deposits a kiss and a moan into my mouth. His thrusts are heartier, deeper than before, and I’m split right open in every sense of the word, accepting everything he’s giving me.
“Don’t stop,” I moan. “I don’t want this to be over yet.”
“Nothing about us will ever be over.”
***
Sunday morning I wake in his arms. He’s looking at me with half-open eyes as if he’s wondering if he’s dreaming.
I smile at the soreness between my thighs. I lost track of how many times I came the night before after our fourth round, and I’m quite positive we drifted to sleep barely minutes before the sun came up.
My cheek is warm against his bare skin. I’m quite certain I’ve smashed his arm to sleep, but he hasn’t complained once. His hand brushes my tangled hair out of my face and he leans in to secure a tender morning kiss against my forehead.
I’m cooking under the mountain of covers, and my skin sticks to him. Peeling myself off of him, regrettably, is my only option. Theo slides out of bed the moment I move, and I appreciate the sway of his bare ass as he struts to the bathroom to clean up.
I reach for the bedside lamp, click it on, and give my eyes a moment to adjust. On the other side of the room lay the ripped remains of my bridesmaid dress. I’m going to need something to wear if I ever want to leave this place.
Hope there’s a fashion-savvy concierge here.
In the meantime, I rifle through the t-shirts hanging in his wardrobe and slip one over my head. Pressing the power button on the T.V., I back myself into an armchair and wait for Theo to come out.
The station is tuned to a cable news show, and the anchor is talking about Topper Wellesley and the pharmaceutical industry. There’s a live feed playing in the corner of the screen, showing a group of federal agents escorting a handcuffed Cory into the back of a black SUV.
He isn’t wearing his glasses or his innocuous smile. He’s the portrait of an asshole elbows deep in a massive pile of his own shit.
And it makes me ridiculously happy.
“What are you watching?” Theo emerges from his shower, a white towel secured around his narrow hips. I drink him in from head to toe and squeeze against the sharp tingle between my thighs until it goes away.
“Justice being served.” I grab the remote and flip to a new channel.
“What do you say we go pick out a few things for the new place?” He says it as if he’s talking about our place. “You any good at that?”
“But all the furniture is staying. That’s part of the purchase agreement,” I remind him.
“Yeah, but I want it to feel like home,” he says. “I want to put some personal touches in there. Can you help me with that?”
“What’s your style?”
“Whatever you like.”
I squint at him from my perch on the chair.
“I assume you’re going to need a new place to live soon.” He disappears behind the wall that separates the bathroom from the rest of the suite and returns with a toothbrush between his delicious lips. “Unless you want to live with Nina and Charlie forever. I’m assuming since they’re married now, they’re going to want a little more…privacy.”
Nina and I had that discussion a month ago. I knew it was coming. I’d already started looking, but living alone in the most expensive city in the country was not something I was excited about.
“Our lease is up in a couple months,” I say.
“You have anything lined up?”
“No.”
“I have, what, six bedrooms now?” Theo makes brushing his teeth an act of the sexy variety.
“Five,” I laugh.
“Okay, it’s still four more than what I need.” He leaves and returns, his mouth wiped clean. “I’m just saying, if you need a place to stay. You know, no rent, no lease. I was thinking of getting a chef at some point, so there’d be no cooking.”
“I like to cook,” I say.
“I mean, it’s not like you wouldn’t be allowed in the kitchen.”
“I like bubble baths, too. Can I have the suite with the pedestal tub?”
“You can have every bathroom in that place as long as you make a little room for me and my stuff on the counter.”
“Can we get rid of those awful cowhide chairs?”
“They’re gone.” He makes a slashing motion in the air with his hand. Theo squints across the room. “That one of my t-shirts?”
“Yeah, my dress is kind of out-of-order at the moment. Which reminds me, I need to call concierge and have someone bring me a pair of jeans.”
“Dial seven.” He nods toward the phone on the nightstand and disappears, returning fully dressed. A small piece of me wilts a little when I see we aren’t going for a bonus round.
I call the concierge and request a basic pair of jeans and a t-shirt, and I’m not embarrassed to rattle off my size and measurements in front of Theo because I know he means it when he says those things don’t matter to him.
A pair of hands snake from behind me before I have a chance to hang up the phone, and Theo gently squeezes my breasts. They fit perfectly in his grasp, and my body ignites and awakens in response.
“God, you’re so fucking sexy.” His voice tickles my ear before he presses his mouth into the back of my neck. Pulling me toward the bed, he lays me down and lifts the hem of the t-shirt I’m wearing. My knees are bent, and I’m open and waiting for him to worship my sex the way only he can do.
“Concierge will be here in thirty minutes.” I lift my hands above my head and melt into the plush mattress as his body heat radiates between my thighs.
“I’ll try to make it work.”
One Year Later
I have the corner office.
I, Whitney Skylar Presley from Nowhere, Iowa, have the corner office.
Well, one of two. Addison has the other.
My hands run the length of the walnut desk that’s just been delivered. It’s smooth and untouched and custom made by century craftsmen out of Portland, Maine. I adjust my pen cup, sliding it from one side of my desk to the other until I find a spot right next to my phone. A neon pink sticky note adheres to my computer monitor, reminding me to give Addison the engraved Tiffany rattle I’d purchased for baby Lily now that she’s back from maternity leave.
The morning sun brightens my office and highlights the crystal vase of pale pink peonies sitting on the console table by the window. My phone rings, and the second I reach for it, sunlight catches the cushion-cut diamond adorning my left ring finger. Splays of lights dance around the room.
That thing is on fire.
It lights up a room right along with the smile that’s been permanently affixed to my face since he asked me to marry him this past New Year’s Eve.
To people who don’t know me, my ring is a symbol that I have it made. I’m sure people look at me and assume I’m some privileged, Park Avenue trophy wife who snapped her fingers and got the life most people only dream of, but it’s not like that at all.
“Hello?” I answer the phone, and my eyes dart toward the 5x7 engagement photo on the other side of my desk. We look so picture-perfect it’s almost sickening, and from the outside looking in, I could see how people might focus on the way we look when we’re together.
But we’re so much more than that.
When I look at us, I see two painfully lost souls who waded through murky waters and foggy nights to find each other. I don’t see a billionaire and a trophy wife. I don’t see a former poor kid or a previously chubby girl.
I just see us.
I see a guy who reminds me every day that nothing about who I am comes from the outside. I see a girl who was finally able to stop judging people for their outsides just in time for it to alter her destiny.
“Hey, babe.” It’s Theo. My fiancé. Although I don’t use that term much. To me it sounds contrived. He’s just…my Theo. It’s all he’s ever been and all he’ll ever be. “Calling to see if you wanted to do lunch today? Usual place? They can fit us in at one.”
“Of course.” I say everything with a smile in my voice when I talk to him. I can’t help it, it just comes out that way. “I have to run Addison’s baby gift down the hall before my next client. I’ll see you in a few hours, okay?”
“I love you.”
“I love you more.”
Winter Renshaw recently celebrated her third 29th birthday. By day, she wrangles kids and dogs, and by night, she wrangles words. She loves photography and peonies and lipstick. Oh, and reality T.V. shows of the Housewives variety. Chips and salsa are her jam, and so is cruising down the highway with the windows down and the air blasting while 80s rock blares from the speakers of her Mom-UV.
