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Authors: Nora Flite

Never Kiss a Bad Boy (23 page)

BOOK: Never Kiss a Bad Boy
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Leaning on the wall, I felt the sensation of hot eyes watching me. I might have missed it if I wasn't already so on edge looking for someone. Blinking, I turned, spotting a stranger watching me.

He wasn't anyone I knew, just a guy who could have blended into the crowd in his black suit and James Bond bow-tie. Not someone I cared to talk to, but he'd caught my eye, and now, he was swaggering my way.

Ah, fuck,
I thought silently. I didn't need this right now.

He stood over me, a glass extended, an offering of peace. “Why, hello there! Sorry if you keep hearing this all night, but I just had to tell you, that dress looks
amazing
on you.”

Blushing nervously, I looked side to side. How did I get out of this politely?

Both of his hands had drinks in them. He clinked my empty glass with a full one, indicating it was for me. “Uh, thanks,” I said. Setting my champagne flute on a table, I took the one he offered. “You're very kind.”

“Kind?” His teeth were off-white, his smile no where near as nice as Kite's or Jacob's. “My dear, I'm only being honest. You're a lovely creature. What's your name?”

Ugh. I needed to escape. “Marina,” I said, twisting the stem of the glass. I was debating on excusing myself. Would he get the message? I was not used to guys hitting on me so openly.

“Marina, that's beautiful.” He tilted his glass and beamed. “I'm Baxter. Cheers, to the lady in red.”

He started to drink, and since it would free me from speaking, I moved to copy him. I didn't get that far. The hand on my shoulder startled me, fast fingers plucking my drink away.

“Kite!” I gasped, boggled by his appearance.

His arm snaked around my middle, a deliberate motion that screamed,
“This is mine.”

“Sorry to interrupt,” he said, winking and making it clear he wasn't sorry at all. “But I need to steal my lovely
wife
for a minute.”

I was burning with shock, but I still caught the look of disgust Baxter gave us both. I also saw how he stabbed his glare at me, looking for a ring. Kite had closed his fingers tight, hiding my hand from prying eyes.

“I didn't know,” Baxter muttered. Did he scowl at my drink in Kite's hand? Was he regretting giving it to me?

Pulling me towards the gardens, Kite laughed in his throat. “Forget it. People try to steal her all the time. Have a good night, don't do anything
stupid
, okay?”

Baxter flushed, watching us until we were out in the cool night air. When we were a few feet from the door, Kite let me go, his eyes twinkling.

“What the hell was that?” I asked, though no anger touched my voice.

“That asshole was bothering you,” he said. Lifting the drink I'd been holding, he tipped it, poured it onto the grass. “Plus, he thought it'd be a good idea to slip you something. What a piece of shit.”

My mouth had fallen open. I stared at the wet ground, then looked back up to Kite. “He tried to drug me? How did you know?”

He answered with a casual shrug. “I was watching.”

He was watching.

Spying on my movements and habits wasn't normal for anyone to do. But I couldn't be upset, he'd saved me. Hugging myself, wishing for my jacket, I felt my smile growing. “Thank you,
husband
.”

Kite's grin went ear to ear. “Anytime, wife. How is the night treating you?”

That made me falter. “Not great. I haven't found him. I assume you haven't, either.”

Shaking his head, Kite toyed with the side of his tie. “Nothing.”

Lifting my chin, I gazed out over the gardens. We were near the hedges, a fountain tinkling in the darkness. The museum's door glowed like a dragon's mouth. No one was near us, they'd gathered closer to the warmth inside.

“Do you think Jacob found anything?” I asked softly.

“I doubt it. If there was anything to find, I think we would know by now.” I must have flinched, because he stepped closer, hurrying to correct himself. “That doesn't mean this guy won't show up, Marina. It's still early.”

He was right, but my gut said otherwise. Looking at his hand, I studied the empty glass. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

Reaching out, I touched his wrist—then took the champagne flute. “If the guy hadn't tried to roofie me, would you have still stepped in?”

Kite's mouth was a tight line, his voice just as tense. “Yes. I would have.”

In my chest, my ribs struggled to contain my rippling lungs. “Why? Why would you stop him, but not care if... if Jacob...”

“Shit,” he said, the out burst of a man who'd walked into a trap. There were goosebumps on my skin from the chilly air. Kite's palms came down on my upper arms, adding to the array. “Marina, I'm not jealous of Jacob. I'm never going to be. I trust him with my life, with everything.” The night sky framed his face, his features sharp as blades. “But I
am
fucking jealous of every other single man on this planet who would dare to flirt with you. If I see them try, I'll stop them again and again. I'm sorry that it sounds hypocritical, but that's how it is.”

I felt his voice in my marrow. If I leaned forward, I could put my forehead on his chest. How would that feel? “I don't want strangers to flirt with me,” I whispered. “I shouldn't... I shouldn't let you do it, either. Or Jacob.”

His mouth came down, but it didn't kiss me.

Kite hovered, his nose on mine, his breath sweet with wine. It left me wavering. “You shouldn't, and we shouldn't be getting wrapped up in you, either. Guess we're all just weak, aren't we?”

Screwing my eyes shut, I tried to breathe in the clean air. All I found was more of Kite. “Maybe you're weak,” I mumbled. “But I'm not.” I heard him chuckle, but then my head was all rushing blood and atomic bombs as I swept my lips over his.

I wanted him. More than anything, I wanted this man. He looked and tasted amazing. How was I still holding the wine glass? How was I still standing, for that matter?

We lingered like that, and might have stayed, if Kite didn't pull away. He left a gorge in me when he did, my thighs shaking with instant desire.

“Let's go inside,” he said. I saw the fire in his stare, and the way he adjusted the bulge in his pants wasn't subtle. The sight of it was a wicked tease.

“Alright. Yeah. We should... probably chill out a bit.”

Kite flicked his attention down, and I followed, noticing the hard shapes of my nipples outlined through my bra and dress. His raspy groan sent lightning to my lower belly. “Chill out. Right. Let's get some more drinks, then.”

I didn't need alcohol.

I was drunk on his heat and adrenaline already.

- Chapter 20 -

Marina

––––––––

I
had two glasses of wine in me and music in my blood.

One of the wide rooms in the museum has been converted into a dance floor. The lights were dimmed, the music surprisingly good for what I considered a stuffy event. I still had no clue what the charity was for.

They'd announced the names of the major benefactors, a number of them anonymous. People had clapped, I had drank, and not once had Kite left my side. I still had no clue where Jacob was.

Finishing my recent drink, I went to look for more when Kite hooked his arm around me. “What are you doing?” I asked, twisting to face him.

He aided me in that, yanking me firmly against his chest. “I think it's called dancing,” he teased. Scooping up my fingers, he led me deeper into the crowd.

“I'm not a very good dancer,” I laughed, caught up in Kite's impossible to shatter grin. He was always so proud of himself, so coy and amused. The part of him that was fast—fast enough to kill in broad daylight—had faded in my mind.

He made it easy to forget.

“Dancing isn't hard.” Scraping his way down to my middle, he held me like I was going to fly through the roof any second. That sensation had me burning, and then he pushed it by squeezing my hips. I gasped, and he just leaned closer.

Kite slid against me, rocking his body in a gentle wave. He had rhythm in his blood, and I would have struggled to keep up with him on a good day. He was kind enough to take control; a hand on the middle of my back, one rolling to touch the outside of my thigh.

He knew what he was doing, every move intentional.

I think I said... something. The music was taking over where his sensations didn't.

I lost track of where I was, focusing solely on the growing heat between us.

He spun me, pushing his weight against my soft ass. A hand curled down my belly, forcing me to back into him to grind on his growing erection. This was filthy dancing meant for late night clubs, not pristine museums.

Neither of us cared at all.

He kissed the side of my neck, I closed my eyes. We moved together, my body catching onto his wavelength. I rocked with him—against him—and wanted so much more.

He blew in my ear, his stubble on my cheek. “Marina,” he purred. “I think we have an audience.”

Flooding with guilt, my eyes flew open. I expected to see stunned faces, disapproving glares. All around us, bodies swayed and danced.

Only one man was staring.

Jacob stepped forward, shrinking the gap until his hands were on mine. His tug was gentle; I felt Kite slipping away. “May I have a turn?” he asked, a question that wasn't
really
a question.

My heart was too big, weighing me down and taking my breath. I still managed to speak; a single, porcelain word. “Yes.”

Jacob stole me away in a swift motion. The hard buttons on his vest dug into my skin, my chest plumping up in my dress, threatening to spill. Where Kite was wild, Jacob was precision and patience.

He took his time, hands gliding like Autumn leaves from my sides to my shoulders, scooping up my face. He held me close, wrapping my hair in his fingers. He managed not to ruin the already dismantling coif.

“How are you doing?” he asked along my throat, pulling my head to the side so he could nuzzle me. My eyes rolled, and I made a dumb noise. He just chuckled, dragging nails down my spine and stealing my strength. “Sounds like you're having fun.”

Jacob ran a finger around my collar bone, then down between my breasts.

My heart thumped, and my pussy pulsed in response. I was connected wherever he touched me, the sensation betraying my composure until my knees were useless.

I was sure my panties were soaking, and he hadn't even kissed me.

Spinning me in a slow circle, he spoke under his breath. The words ran beneath my skin.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

Leaving would mean so many things. Abandoning the chase, admitting the man I wanted to kill wasn't going to show, that we still didn't know his name and I didn't know what to do next and...

And it meant giving in to Kite and Jacob.

I saw it in his eyes, those pure blue centers told me I was about to make a deal with the devil. He'd said as much to me, before. Choose them both, or I could have neither.

The idea of giving in to their 'rule' was leaving my head in tatters. Did they really want me? Both of them?

What about me, what the hell did I want?

Looking up, forgetting how to blink or breathe or think, I let my tongue make the sounds that would set me on a path I'd never imagined. “Yes. I want to get out of here.”

Jacob swept me up, and as Kite appeared at my side, they ushered me out of the museum.

Amazingly, I managed to gather my coat and reach the car with them before my brain caught up to what I'd said. The prickles of fear began, settling into my flesh as the valet pulled the car up.

The white-vested man handed Kite the keys. He turned, shoving them into Jacob's hands and shoving
me
into the backseat. “You drive,” he said.

Sitting up, I caught the valet staring through the window. Kite blocked him, entering and shutting the door. He didn't give Jacob a choice in the matter, and not me, either.

I managed to get out a small whimper before the copper-haired man coiled against me, pushing me into the seat and nibbling my lower lip.

“Kite,” I stammered, not knowing if I should grip his broad shoulders or push him away. I looked sideways, eyeing Jacob when he drove the car out of the lot. “Wait, we can't—”

“I can't handle it any longer,” Kite growled. The glass was cool on the back of my skull. He tangled his hand in my hair, tearing the style out, so much more rough than Jacob. “The way you felt against me when we were dancing, I just... fuck.” Black eyes glinted, fixing on me. His intensity was volatile, his tongue gliding over mine.

When had he started kissing me?

Jacob was quiet, I couldn't shake the idea that this was bothering him. I couldn't see into his sinful mind, what if he'd been lying?

They claimed they could survive sharing me.

I wasn't sure I could.

Kite was having a field day. He ran a hand down my side, hiking my dress up. I squeaked, went to pull the red fabric down. He would have none of it.

Gripping my wrists, he held them against the window over my head. “Dammit,” he breathed huskily. “You look amazing. Trapped like this, that flash of nerves and the way you're still wiggling with desire...” Reaching down, he brushed his fingertips over my breasts. Like earlier, my nipples were throbbing, standing at attention. “I love how responsive you are. It kills me.”

I was the one who was dying.

Torn between humiliation and raging arousal, I kept looking over at Jacob. I couldn't see much but the back of his head. I wanted to know he was okay. What if he was crushing the wheel and glaring, hating us both?

Abruptly, as if he'd sensed my brain waves, he spoke out. “You don't need to worry, Marina.” In the mirror, I caught him watching. “I'll have my turn soon enough.”

Hah. As if
that
was what I was fucking worried about.

Kite kissed me again, teeth grazing. He slid between my legs and stroked the front of my panties. We both felt the dampness.

Through the silky material he rubbed me, impatience and need sinking into the way he moved. His fingers were rough, but it was what I wanted.

Groaning, I bit my tongue and tried to stay quiet. I was excited beyond belief, but still struggling with the situation. Even alcohol couldn't cloud my worries. Not with them both so near me at once.

BOOK: Never Kiss a Bad Boy
3.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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