Taming Alaska (So Not Prince Charming Book 1) (9 page)

Now disappointment flashes in his green eyes, and I know I’ve hurt him. I don’t want to do that.

“I’m sorry. I went too far.” I take a glass of champagne from the waiter and hand it to Shane. That should make his mistake of dating Nikita, instead of me, go down easier.

Shane downs it and gives me a wicked grin that forces me to take a step back. It’s the way he looked at me at the award ceremony, like he would rip all my clothes off. I fan myself, feeling suddenly hot and moist. I need to have an orgasm because anything is looking good to me now.

He slowly stands, like it’s killing him, snags my hand, and drags me onto the dance floor. The liquor oozing out of his pores stinks of beer and champagne. Though he’s drunk, I’m the one stumbling to keep up with him.

The band plays a tango. He won’t know it, so I expect him to cut me loose, but he grabs my arm to follow him.

Dad has some flamenco dancer entwined in his arms. They move like professionals. Mom loved to dance. For a brief moment, heartache flutters in my chest.

To my amazement, Shane expertly spins me into him, and my breath catches. He dips me and snaps me up, like popping a beer tab.

“Where did you learn to dance?” I ask, surprised.

“My sister took ballroom dancing and my mom volunteered me as her partner. It didn’t last long, but I'm a quick learner.”

He draws me in close, his body heat soaking me, before shoving me away. When I come up against him again, I lift my leg along his and let it slide down the length of his inner thigh. I tango—very well, I might add. My dad’s a great teacher.

Hah. I’ve given him a hard-on, not that it’s probably difficult to do. I smile triumphantly. He glares at me, and without hiding his erection, he twirls me out and then presses it against me.

“Why do we keep playing this game, Princess?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You should’ve gone out with me, and we’d both be better off.”

“I’m very happy, thank you.” I married Blake. Why wouldn’t I be? “And I like giving you a hard time.”

He frowns. “I can attest to that, and I like reciprocating.” He leans down to whisper, “Your panties are wet.”

Panicking, I turn to see if my dress is stained.

“Made you look, Princess.” The way his gaze glides along my body starts a fire in my chest. “Is your gay husband not doing it for you?”

My crinkled lips give away the lie. “Don’t be silly. He’s perfect.”

“Why are you doing this, Princess?” Shane fills out his pants very well, and he smirks at me noticing his bulge. “You’re married now.”

“I’m not doing anything. You need to control your urges, and I thought I wasn’t your type.”

“You’re not.” He snorts. “So what’s this about? Why did you want to dance with me, other than to excite me?” he asks in a snarky tone he’s so famous for.

“What happened to you and Nikita? My sorority sisters will want to know.” I need to build up to ask him about his company and what he did with all that money. Did he buy another business and it went under?

He snaps my head back by dipping me low to the ground. “What’s it to you?”

The tulle of my dress swirls, and the drug lord watches us closely. Fay and Trevor dance cheek to cheek. I bet she can’t feel his spaghetti stick pressed against her right now. Blake talks to the lemony-haired waiter and his groomsmen, completely oblivious to Shane jerking me around the dance floor.

They laugh at Blake’s cleverness. I love that he’s so confident, not the slightest bit jealous, though I wish he’d have some reaction to Shane’s mistreatment of me.

Shane twirls me around, only to draw me close again. He must like poking me with his hard cock because it’s still plenty erect. Perspiration dampens my dress. Blake needs to rescue and satisfy me because this dance has roused my appetite when I didn’t mean for it to.

“Just curious,” I say.

“She dumped me. Happy?” The harshness in his tone cuts me to the bone.

“Not really, but you should be. You’re better off.”

“How so? She’s the nicest girl I’ve ever been with.”

Another laugh bursts out of me. It’s so unladylike that I clamp my hand over my mouth. “Nikita Harper, the girl famous for using the cactus as a stripper pole in Cowboys.” I have a lot of stories on her.

An infuriating glaze sparks in his pale green eyes. “I’ve never seen her drink.” He spins me into him again. He presses against me like he did while giving me a lap dance. His arousal has grown even larger, if that’s possible.

I blink at the intensity in his eyes. “I can’t count how many times she has hugged the toilet during a sorority party.”

Rage fires in his rugged face. He’s taller than my six-two husband, and somehow physically stronger, even though Blake works out every day.

“Why would you lie about your sorority sister, Princess?”

“Lie? They aren’t lies.” I always wondered why she put on a front for him because I know Shane drinks. Why would she hide that from him?

Confusion flashes in his eyes, and the scar on his chin is even more prominent up close. “I have never seen her drink or act like the rest of you girls.” He has me against his cheek.

Honestly, I am married, though it feels nice to be appreciated, but my needy desire needs to be satisfied. Damn Blake.

I want to say I’m sorry for Shane being stupid, but he keeps calling me Princess. “Shane, Come on. She’s not real.”

“And you are with your newly acquired blonde hair?” His hand grasps my golden locks. “You were beautiful with all that black hair, and then you did this to it.” He snorts his disapproval.

Why doesn’t he like my blonde hair? Most men prefer blondes. He dated a natural one for the past two years.

Hurt replaces his anger in those leaf green eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me, Cyn? I thought we were friends. Why tell me now?”

“It’s not my job to tell you who to date or trust. You’re a big boy. Weren’t you two going to Alaska?”

Shane’s jaw clenches, and his eyes narrow. I shudder at the ferocity emanating from his eyes. He spins me onto the grass away from my guests and dips me. The problem is he keeps lowering me to the ground until I’m lying on the lawn.

He’s leaving me here?

“Help me up,” I demand.

“Not today, Princess.” Shane marches away from me. “I’ve had enough from you girls today.”

Anger flares on my face, scorching it. “Shane O’Flannery, don’t you leave me like this.”

He doesn’t even turn around.

Fay walks toward me. “Bravo. I don’t know what Cynthia said, but that’s been a long time coming.”

“I think she told me the truth,” Shane says to her, “but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to hear it.”

So he does believe me. It is true after all.

Fay helps me up. Thank God, most of the guests are too drunk to have noticed, except the drug lord and Blake. He gives me a strange look that I cannot read.

I glance at the back of my Vera Wang. Damn. A green stain mars my beautiful dress.

I stare after Shane, his fists clenched at his side. How could he not know Nikita after being with her for so long? Gosh, she even cheated on him, but I certainly won’t tell him that. He threw a fit over her drinking. I’d hate to see what he’d do for her stepping out on him.

Nothing good came out of this. I feel completely unsatisfied, like I did after having sex with Blake earlier.

Chapter Seven

Cyn

Blake lounges in a seat, his long legs outstretched while I pace around the Seattle airport like a nervous terrorist, searching for our honeymoon escape. I half expect TSA to body slam me to the ground.

After the wedding we’d flown out of Austin to Seattle, which has me completely stumped.

We certainly aren’t in the international section, so our destination must be Hawaii. New York, Miami, Honolulu, and Fairbanks are the closest gates. Ours says Minneapolis. Yuck. I won’t go there. I’ll put my foot down to that.

Hawaii would work—not as good as Bora Bora but not too terrible. It’s beautiful all year round.

“Sit down, honey,” he says. “We’ll be at our destination before you know it.”

“Why won’t you tell me?” I whine, nervous as the Mad Hatter.

He grasps my hand and pulls me toward him. I sit down onto his lap where he smooches me, the heat of his lips branding me. When he touches me, my body leans into his. We’re going to have a great time, and I’ll have an orgasm—many of them—unless I’m broken.

“Don’t worry,” he says. “You’ll love it.”

Blake pushes me off his lap and onto the next seat, so he can beat the next level of Rio Angry Birds on his Kindle. Birds squawk and monkeys squeak when he reopens his game. This is a side of him I’ve never known. What happened to Mr. Sophistication? Mr. Charming? Mr. Godlike Sexy? I’ve never seen him play any video games. I hope I didn’t marry a gamer.

I slump in my chair, studying the gate signs and letting them drive me crazy until Shane O’Flannery plops down next to the Fairbanks departing gate. Unfortunately, his flight is delayed, so I hope he doesn’t see me, not after he humiliated me yet again.

He slaps what looks like a hundred pound backpack with skis and snowshoes strapped to it onto the seat beside him then digs out a box, a ring box. No wonder he’s so upset. He was going to ask Nikita to marry him during their Alaska adventure.

Nikita said she was going somewhere exciting with Shane. It doesn’t surprise me she backed out once Shane lost his fortune.

One by one, the gates for Miami, New York, and Honolulu board. At this late hour, the other gates close, and the only one left open is Fairbanks. This isn’t looking good. We wait another hour and the other gates remain dark.

No. This can’t be happening. I stick out my lower lip.

First class is called for Fairbanks, and I half expect Shane to get up and board his flight. What’s best for all of us is that he doesn’t see us.

Blake stands. “Let’s go.”

My mouth opens, and a stone plummets into the alcohol I drank on the first flight we took. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No.” Helplessness shadows his blue eyes, like he’s made a huge mistake, which he has. “You’ll love it there. We’re going fishing in this remote area, and we’ll view wildlife. Come on, babe.” His arm lovingly drapes around me.

“I don’t have the right clothes,” I say, stumbling backward. I packed for the beach.

“We’ll go to the outfitters store when we get there.” His face sags. “Your dad said you’d love it, and Fay agreed.”

I thought he said some friend helped him. My fists clench because I had Fiji on the brain. “What about Fiji?” It sounds so childish I want to crawl under a rock. My dream escape bubble I’d been floating around in has burst.

His brow crinkles with concern. “We can go there anytime. I’ve heard late autumn is stunning in the interior. I’m sorry, pumpkin. I thought you’d love this.”

“But I don’t like the cold,” I whimper. Given the commotion, Shane glances our way. I can’t let him see me this way. It’ll only give him ammunition to give me a hard time. “You better promise me Fiji or Tahiti right now.”

Shane gives me the look, like why the hell am I on the flight with him traveling to his home?

I glare right back. This isn’t my idea.

Blake plants one of his delectable kisses on my lips while squeezing my butt. “I’ll take you to Tahiti, and I promise you will love our honeymoon in Alaska.”

I blow a stray hair out of my face. I can barely wait.

Chapter Eight

Shane

While waiting for cattle coach to be called, I spot Cyn and her gay, serial killer husband arguing. She doesn’t look too happy. Why the hell would he take her to Fairbanks?

“Well, I’ll be damned,” I say to myself, cocking my head at Cyn like our old dog Buck used to do when he spotted a moose edging onto our property. She’s dressed for a night out in Austin—a short flouncy skirt, which shows off her luxuriously long legs and that sweet ass, heels, a top that doesn’t do her perky breasts justice, and a light cotton sweater. She’ll freeze in the current rainstorm pummeling Fairbanks. What the hell was Blake thinking? And why didn’t he tell her where they were going?

I hate to admit it, even to myself, whenever I look at her, I see her vulnerability and the tragic loss shine in those blazing eyes of hers. I still remember those young, tender lips smoldering against mine, and as drunk as I was earlier, she’s lucky after the way she pressed that hot body against my hard-on, I didn’t rip her wedding dress off and fuck her in front of all her guests.

As much as I cared about Niki, Cyn is the one constantly giving me nightmares, torturing me with that ass and legs long enough to choke me. And to think I was going to ask the wrong woman to marry me.

I stuff the ring box back into the zippered pocket of my backpack and tell myself not marrying Niki is for the best. Virtual Niki and I were compatible. She told me she loved fishing, though now that I think about it she always had an excuse when I flew out to the coast.

I get up as Cyn and her husband walk to the gate. It doesn’t surprise me that they’re traveling first class. I catch up to them.

As Blaine—I believe that’s what he’s called—fishes for the tickets from his back pocket, I lean over and say to Cyn, “Your new husband must not know how to treat a princess. You’re a little underdressed.”

“It’s all good, Shane O’Flannery. Don’t spoil my honeymoon like you did my wedding.”

“I had no idea you even knew my last name, Princess. Have a nice flight.” I give her a big cheerful grin.

“I will, thank you.” From her sinister eyebrows knitted together, she must not have gotten over me leaving her on the ground. It was poetic.

It was also rude of me, but I’ve never been that deceived by a girl. A few have fooled me into believing they were sweet and innocent though. Women can be devious.

“What are you doing here?” Blaine asks.

“I’m going hunting,” I say. It's to track down the bear that killed my younger brother and put the damn thing to rest.

“Shane’s from Alaska,” Cyn says. “Sitting with the rest of the grunge in the back?” she says, returning my smirk.