Chapter 13
13
Theo
C at is at my favorite club. I run my finger over the photo on my phone. Lane posted it, the little troublemaker. Lane’s eyes are glinting in the photo, like she knows exactly what she’s doing. Against my will, I examine Cat’s face. She’s flushed, excited, wide-eyed. Her lips are parted and her makeup is sultry. Don’t zoom in. Don’t do it. But I do, until Cat’s face fills the screen. Is that a shot glass? She’s out at my favorite club, and I’m not there because I’m at Cole’s, watching Band of Brothers reruns and drinking sparkling fucking water, because I’m cleaning up my act. And ignoring my wife.
While she’s out doing shots and probably dancing with some guy. I’d dance with her if I saw her there, which means a hundred other men would too. She’s stunning and innocent, but grumpy and sharp and full of secrets. An enigma. I rub my thumb against my bottom lip. What if she has sugar on her lip from one of those fruity drinks they serve? Will some other man press his thumb to her mouth? Not likely. At Hedonism, he’d probably lick it off.
Fuck .
I’m up and getting dressed before I can think too hard about why.
“Can I take your car?” I burst into the living room, where Cole is foam rolling and listening to an audiobook. Probably The Power Broker or some boring shit like that because deep down, he’s an old man. He does have nice cars, though.
“What’s the rush?” He pops an earbud out.
“She’s at a club.”
“So?” He shrugs and switches sides with the foam roller.
“She’s at Hedonism,” I say darkly. “I know exactly what goes on there.”
He smirks at me and then winces as the roller nears his knee. “You don’t like her, remember? Why do you care if she’s at a club?”
“She’s my wife. It’s embarrassing. I’m cleaning up my act, and we’re supposed to be madly in love. Can’t have her out ruining my reputation.” I’m grasping at straws. I know it, and Cole knows it. But he doesn’t push me. He just laughs and points to the front door.
“Keys are on the hook. You can take the Porsche. Not the Ferrari. Don’t touch the Ferrari.”
“I’m a very good driver, old man.” I frown at him.
“Not when you’re in a state, you’re not.” He raises his brows in challenge, before I grab the keys to the Porsche and walk out. I am in a state, because my hands grip the wheel with a little too much force as I head downtown, and I blow at least one yellow light. I get to the Meatpacking neighborhood more quickly than I anticipated, slam open the door, and drop my keys with the valet, who looks thrilled about the prospect of driving Cole’s sports car.
The bouncer greets me by name, which might not be a mark in my favor. Do I come here too much? I probably do. The familiar warmth of the club envelops me, and I move through the back hallways like a shadow. I’m wearing all black—black shirt unbuttoned at the throat, black jeans, black boots.
Cat better be on the main floor and not in one of the back rooms. If she’s in one of the back rooms, I swear —my thoughts short out when I see her. The shifting lights on the ceiling paint her in stripes of gold and black. She’s so hot. I’m transported back to the summer after junior year. I was outside the pool house where my mom lived, pissed at being back but still enjoying the sunshine, and I heard voices. My mom rounded the corner with Cat, and my jaw dropped. She was nineteen and totally unaware of how her skimpy shorts begged for me to push them down, or better yet, rip them down the middle. Lust blazed through me, bright and scouring, and I scowled at her for making me feel something.
I’m scowling now. That dress she’s wearing is so short that I wouldn’t need to rip it. Anyone could pull her into the crush of bodies on the dance floor and be inside her in a second. Not me. Never me. I stride toward her right as a server approaches with a tray of shots. Cat takes one with a smile, and I scowl harder. She beckons a guy over, and his hands go to the hem of his shirt.
Oh, hell no.
“What is this?” My voice comes out sharp and loud, and she stiffens before turning on her heel. Sooty lashes flutter over her big brown eyes, and those pink lips curve up in a sinful smile. The Sphinx has nothing on my darling wife.
“Oh, hi, sweetheart. We’re about to do body shots. I’m sure you can find a nice girl somewhere over there.” She waves her hand and turns back to the guy, giving me a view of her back, where her dress dips nearly to the top of her butt. He’s ogling her and grinning. I see red. I reach over her shoulder, pluck the shot from her grasp, and glare at him. “Get the fuck out of here,” I growl.
She whirls, eyes flashing. “Theo, come on.”
“You want to do body shots, princess? You do them with me.”
Her mouth parts. Good. I’ve shocked her. She’s going to say no. Cat Peterson is all bark and no bite. She doesn’t want a single hair out of place. I can’t imagine her licking a stranger’s stomach in public.
Say no, princess.
“Okay.” She smiles broadly, like this is just another day. “Well, get on with it.” She gestures to the couch.
“Hold this.” I shove the shot into her hand and start unbuttoning my black shirt. Her eyes widen. What did she think was going to happen? She’s definitely never done a body shot before, and I don’t know what possessed her to start now.
A crowd is gathering as I strip, but I hold Cat’s gaze as my shirt falls open. I lie on the couch, prop an arm behind my head, and hollow my stomach.
“You’re a pro at this, aren’t you?” She licks her lips.
“I’ve done my fair share of body shots,” I say. This isn’t special.
“Okay.” She shrugs, ignoring the crowd around us and the hoots and hollers.
“Pour it on my stomach,” I say in a low voice. Her fingers ghost over my abdominal muscles, and sparks light under my skin. I tense.
She pours the liquid ever so carefully, drops to her knees, and sets her lips to my skin. Fuck. It’s everything I can do to keep my body from jerking. Her lips are soft and warm, and the alcohol is cool. She sucks it up like a pro. Her mouth on my abs feels connected to my dick. This is bad. She swirls her tongue over my skin, even though she’s already sucked up every drop. The coolness of my skin where the liquid pooled is quickly turning to heat. Pure heat as she licks up my abs. A groan comes from my throat. Thank fuck she can’t hear it over the music. Another slow lick, and my cock is thickening in my pants. I scramble up. Teasing Cat is one thing, but being out of control with Cat? No way.
“What’s wrong?” She swipes at her mouth, her eyes glazed. Must be the alcohol.
“I don’t need you licking me with half of Manhattan watching.”
“All right.” She shrugs and walks away.
I stumble after her and grab her by the arm. “We’re leaving.”
“But I want to dance. I still have to dance on a table.” She tips her head back and moves her body. My mouth goes dry. I can see down her dress. The perfect swell of each breast. No bra. Her nipples are hard against the silk. The rest is shadow, but I can imagine it.
Stop imagining it.
“You can dance on a table at home. We’re supposed to be married, remember? We’re going to brunch tomorrow, where we will see and be seen. ”
“You’re so boring now, Theo. Marriage has turned you into an old man.” She turns and sways into me. Her eyes are half-lidded and swirling with secrets. Danger. Her breasts press to my chest, and I nearly let her lead me into the crowd.
Fuck this. Cat is playing with fire.
I set my lips to her ear. “You want to find out just how boring I am? Keep pressing up against me.”
Her eyes fly wide. She steps back.
“That’s what I thought.” Cat Peterson doesn’t want me. She wants a good time, a story for her friends, a brief walk on the wild side. Same as she did at nineteen.
She cocks her head. “Give me one dance. For my bucket list. And I’ll go to brunch with you tomorrow.”
The demand that we get our coats and leave dies in my throat.
“It would be good for our reputation as a married couple, don’t you think?” Her red-painted lips curve. Who is this woman? Little Cat Peterson is gone. In her place is a hurricane. I don’t know what to do with her, and I’m a stumbling half step forward before I can say no.
She takes it as an invitation, looping her arms around my neck and pressing close. Fuck. My whole body feels electrified. Every point of contact between us is heated. She’s soft and melting into me, and if I close my eyes, I can sink into this feeling. No. I need to regain control.
“This isn’t how you dance, princess.” I say the words directly into her ear, where she smells like amber perfume and warm skin. An older version of the girl I knew, but still distinctly herself. “Maybe this is what they taught you in those fancy dance classes, but here, at Hedonism, we do this—” I spin her until she’s caged by my body, her back to my front, her silky dress catching on my belt buckle.
She’ll hate this. She’ll be stiff and awkward, and she’ll make me stop. Because while we call it dancing, it feels a hell of a lot like—
She loops her arms around my neck and arches back into me, and my thoughts screech to a halt.
Sex . It feels like sex, especially with the way I can run my lips down her arm, the way her skin trembles under my mouth. And if sex with Cat is half as good as the way she sways and arches and breathes , then I’m done for.
“We’re leaving,” I say the second the song ends. I’m hard under my jeans, and I want to push her dress up over the curve of her heart-shaped ass and bite it.
I ignore the clamoring of my body, wrap Cat’s hand with mine so she can’t get distracted, get our coats, and hustle her into the Porsche.
“Nice car,” she murmurs when I sink into the driver’s seat. She’s running a finger along the leather upholstery, her eyes still half-lidded. She’s drunker than I thought, then. “Should you be driving?” she asks.
“I didn’t drink tonight. Just watched TV at my brother’s.”
“So you are boring now.”
“I’m trying something new.” I turn right, the car humming pleasantly under me.
“What’s that?” Her voice is a low murmur in the car. Her scent fills the small space, and the distance between us feels reduced to nothing.
“I’m turning over a new leaf. Partying less. The marriage is part of it.” Maybe my business partners will take me seriously now.
“Hmm. How’s that going?”
“Not well,” I say dryly. “It’s been twelve hours, and I had to drag my wife out of Hedonism.”
I can see her smiling out of the corner of my eye. “I don’t recall asking you to come get me. How did you find out where I was, anyway?”
“Lane,” I say shortly. “She posted a photo on social media.”
“And you stormed in like an avenging angel. Why?”
She makes it sound like I have an ulterior motive. “I’m trying to improve my reputation, not have you ruin it.”
She makes a disbelieving sound. “No one even knows we’re married.”
“That’s going to change. Starting tomorrow. We are going to put in a solid effort.”
She snorts. “Do you even know what that looks like? ”
“Sure.” I turn right. “Buy you some diamonds. The bigger, the better. You do like diamonds, right?”
“I don’t mind diamonds,” she says quietly. “But if I were really in love, that’s not what I’d choose.”
She murmurs the words, and I chance a look at her at a red light. She’s smiling softly and curled up in the seat, like she really is my wife. Like I’m picking her up after a long night out and instead of going home alone, or with a stranger, we’re looking forward to the moment we curl up in our bed, with only each other for comfort. And it’s enough.
“I missed you when you left,” she says simply.
I still. What does that mean? She missed me as a friend? She missed me because she wanted more, like I did, before I thought better of it? Or she missed the air of danger I brought to her life?
“You were my only friend, you know.” She smiles hazily at me, and I realize with stunning clarity that she’s being perfectly honest. My heartbeat is loud in my ears. I don’t want to think of Cat that way—unbearably lonely. I want her prickly and out of reach. Firmly in a box.
“That can’t be true,” I say gently. Because if it is true, it means I deserted her, and when I left, she had no one. No. She had her family. The family that hates you, remember? She didn’t want you, she looked down on you, and she had her father do her dirty work.
“It’s fine.” She yawns. “It’s in the past. We never would have worked, anyway.” She yawns again. “I’m going to take a nap now. Wake me when we get home.”