Bedwrecker(4)

By: Kim Karr



We’re not quite eye level, but close enough that I can turn my face to find his ear and whisper, “You’re good.”

There’s a slight cocky nod of his head. “I am,” he murmurs, and that hot gaze of his pins me, holds me in place.

Practically letting me know just how good he is. I think I just gulped air.

After the longest intense moment, he breaks our connection and extends his hand as if to shake. When I take it, he pulls me close enough that he can whisper directly in my ear. “I bet just like the song says, you wreck every man’s bed you’re in.”

Oh.

My.

God.

That sound. Those lips. The way he moves. The way he talks. All resulting in words that blow across the sensitive skin of my neck just below my earlobe. It’s too much and I simply cannot suppress a reaction.

Already primed by the fantasy of him and me anyway, my body reacts at once. Not only do my nipples push against the fabric of my dress and outline themselves among the tiny silver sequins, but my clit pulses, and I have to squeeze my thighs together to settle the tantalizing sensation.

Oh, and as the fire courses through my veins, all I can think is that I’m so ready to get burned. Not holding back, I keep my voice low and say, “Keep playing your cards right and you just might get to find out.”

His body jerks like John Travolta in Grease when he sees Olivia Newton-John’s transformation. And like John, I swear he’s electrified, his gaze brightens that drastically. “Good thing I’m an excellent poker player.”

My breath catches and holds, until I let it hiss out between parted lips. “Just how excellent?”

Just then his tongue sneaks out to wet his lips, and I feel myself getting wet somewhere else entirely. “It’s all or nothing, sweetheart. All or nothing.”

“So you’re an all in kind of guy then?”

His nod is wicked.

We’re standing very close. If I step an inch in his direction, I’ll be pressed up against him. I imagine the push and pull of the muscles in his arms if I put my hands on them. And I start imagining so much more. I dare myself to take that one step.

“Tell me, Maggie—” he starts to say.

Just then Cam shoves a shot in his hand. “Come on, man, you need to catch up.”

No.

No.

No!

Tell me, Maggie, what? Should we take this to your room? Do you prefer the top or bottom? Do you like to fuck in the shower? Against the wall? On the floor? What? What!

Our gazes remain locked until somehow Cam manages to put himself between Keen and me.

That’s when the guy-fest starts all over again. Talk about Keen’s job, Cam’s job, New York, California. And toasts. Lots of toasts. The Jameson Irish Whiskey goes down smoother and smoother with each shot, though, I have to say. Soon the liquor makes my belly feel like a fire is being stoked deep inside me. Or is that the burning stare Keen is giving me?

Makayla has stopped drinking and is looking pretty out of it right about now. She’s a lightweight, and doesn’t usually drink so much. Which is evident by her having to lean against Cam for support. Noticing her wobble, he leans down and whispers something in her ear, and she whispers back with only a slight stumble.

Cam looks over at me. “We’re going to head to our room. Will you be okay here?”

Ummm . . . hell yes! “Sure, I’ll be fine.”

Makayla gets up on her toes to find my ear. “Go get him,” she slurs.

I raise a brow. “I intend to.”

She’s talking about Brooklyn, of course, but that’s not who I’m going to get.

No, my sights are set on Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome, and when I say tall, dark, and handsome, I mean . . . the Wall Street wolf in his designer pants and hundred-dollar haircut who looks like he just stepped out of GQ magazine.

Heaven help me.

Just as the lovebirds leave, and Keen takes a step forward as if to pounce, his brother spots him. “Keen!” Brooklyn hollers loud over the music.

Keen darts his head in his brother’s direction and grins from ear to ear.

Brooklyn is on the dance floor with three women, and he’s waving his brother over.

“Brooklyn!” Keen calls, looking as if his brother is made of fabulousness, which clearly by the happy expression on his face, in his eyes, he must be.

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