Wicked & Willing: Bad Girls (13 page)

“Absolutely. Please, come in.” Venus busied herself by reaching for the purse that had come with the dress.

“You’re going to be the most beautiful woman there tonight, Venus. Troy, you’re a lucky rascal.”

Venus glanced back and forth between the men. “Troy?”

Max shrugged. “I’m afraid I’ll have other responsibilities and won’t be able to stay by your side all evening. One of which is to arrive an hour early, so I’m on my way now. The car is downstairs. Troy, can you bring Venus and find your way?”

Troy nodded. “Of course.”

“And I don’t want Venus having to fend off all those no-good, lazy playboys at the club. So you’ll stay by her side?”

Straightening his tie, Troy gave Venus an intimate look. “I can promise I won’t let her out of my sight for a minute until she’s back here in this bed, safe and sound.”

And he’d be right here with her.
Intoxicating and erotic
.

She wondered if Max could sense the current of excitement snapping between them. Not that she worried Max would disapprove of their involvement. In fact, when she thought about it, she had a feeling he wouldn’t mind a bit. In spite of his wealth, Max was a very down-to-earth person, with a sharp wit and a true appreciation for other sharp-minded people. The way he often spoke about Troy had made her realize he liked him very much.

Still, she didn’t want the old gentleman to think badly of her. Her concern had absolutely nothing to do with Leo Gallagher’s demand that she be discreet. Instead, she simply found herself caring about Max’s opinion.

Maybe she was too reckless on occasion. Or, at least,
had been when she was younger and hungry to be loved. Maybe so wanting to have a family of her own, to belong to someone, had made her sell herself short when it came to relationships.

But what was happening between her and Troy was different. Because, whether he realized it or not, whether they admitted it aloud or not, in some ways they were two of a kind. They spoke the same language, even though they used completely different words. They had the same drives, though they were on different paths. They’d fallen into a perfect harmony the moment they’d met, though they argued whenever they were together.

They were, she believed, very well matched. Whether that equaled a relationship for a week, or a lifetime, she couldn’t say. Nor, right this minute, did she much care. For tonight, at least, she was going to be Cinderella enjoying the ball. And enjoying what happened when she got back home even more.

How appropriate for a Jersey princess with a checkered past to hook up with a prince charming who was a self-confessed dog.

“Mrs. Harris told me what color dress you were wearing tonight,” Max said. He cleared his throat and tugged at his tie. “I have had these things lying around for years, with no one to wear them. You might get some use out of them.” He reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a velvet box, handing it to her. “It’s up to you. If they’re too old-fashioned…”

Seeing what lay inside the box, Venus immediately shook her head and took a step back. She raised her hand, palm out. “I can’t. That stuff probably costs more than I make in a year.”

No way could she wear the dangly emerald earrings and stunning emerald-and-diamond bracelet. Fancy
dress and hairdo or not, she was not cut out to wear jewels fit for a princess.

“I’m a walking catastrophe when it comes to jewelry,” she said with a forced laugh. “If I dropped an earring down the sink or lost the bracelet in a punch bowl, I’d never forgive myself.”

“I doubt you’re going to be seeing any punch bowls at the club,” Troy murmured with a wry chuckle.

“I was speaking figuratively,” she snapped.

A knowing, completely understanding smile widened Max’s lips, and his blue eyes held such an expression of tenderness, she nearly cried. “Refuse them if you don’t like them, Venus. But, please, don’t refuse them because you think you’re not worthy.” Placing the box on the table beside the bed, he took her hand and snapped the bracelet onto it.

Seeing that he would not be dissuaded, Venus put one, then the other, of the beautiful dangly earrings on her ears. “Thank you, Max. I promise you I’ll take good care of them. And I’ll return them the minute we get home.”

Max nodded. “I know you will. Just avoid the punch bowl.”

She rolled her eyes at the joke.

“Now, would you mind if Troy or Mrs. Harris took a picture of us together?” the old man asked, sounding slightly unsure of how she’d react. “I’d like to have one…but only if you agree.”

Venus stared at the man, usually so confident and strong. “Of course I don’t mind.” At his look of visible relief, Venus drew in a deep breath. This obviously meant a great deal to Max.

“Thank you again for the use of the jewelry,” she said as he gallantly offered his arm to lead her out of the room.

“They’re as perfect on you as I knew they’d be. Your eyes, just the same…”

Though almost afraid to, she wanted to be sure of what he’d been about to say. “As?”

“As hers,” he replied, his voice soft and reminiscent. A gentle smile softened his craggy features. “As my Violet’s.”

Venus didn’t say another word as they proceeded downstairs.

T
HE COUNTRY CLUB
wasn’t all
that
.

It was okay, Venus decided when they arrived, But no fancier than any four-star hotel in Baltimore. The white columned entrance didn’t seem quite as grand as Max’s house. The chandeliers were normal size, not tremendously ornate. The furniture was standard banquet issue—round tables for eight, padded metal-framed chairs. The food she worked up the nerve to try was pretty good, but the drinks were definitely a little too heavy on the mixer and the ice.

The people, however, were just about what she’d expected. Max introduced both her and Troy as friends from out of town, nothing more. He didn’t clarify that they were friends from
different
towns, and some people seemed to assume they were a couple. A misconception Troy didn’t go out of his way to correct, she quickly realized. She liked that he didn’t.

They were dressed tastefully and spoke serenely, but Venus couldn’t miss the speculation in the eyes of some of those she met. The wealthy women judged her dress, noted the emeralds and greeted her warmly. The unattached men judged her figure
under
the dress, noted the absence of a ring, and tried to pick her up. On the few occasions when she found herself alone she came across the typical smooth-talking, flirtatious guys and their sharp-eyed, possessive dates. Seemed like things were pretty
much the same with the rich set as they were with the Flanagan’s crowd.

“Having a nice time?” Troy asked as he returned from the bar, carrying a glass of wine for her. She was standing near the patio doors, watching the dancers in the center of the tastefully decorated banquet room.

“It’s okay.”

“So far no one’s called you an imposter, have they?”

“The night is still young.”

An anticipatory smile was his only answer. She suddenly knew what he was thinking. Yes, the night was still young, and he’d made some rather suggestive promises about how it would end.
Intoxicating. Erotic
. She shivered in anticipation.

“Are you chilly?”

“No, fine,” she replied.

“Good, let’s dance.”

She shook her head. “Sorry, dancing’s not one of my strong suits. I’m about as graceful as a clown on roller skates.”

He took her drink from her hand and set it down on a table, along with his own. “Just follow me.”

She remained rooted where she stood. Hiding her absolute terror of going out onto the dance floor in front of all these people, she tried to go on the attack. “In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I don’t follow any man.”

Taking her arm, he leaned closer. “I know that about you already. Just follow my lead on the dance floor. It’s a legal excuse for me to have you in my arms in front of these people.”

Well, when he put it that way…

Venus caught Max’s eye as she and Troy walked on to the dance floor. He gave her a small nod, still chatting with the club set, who’d given him an award earlier in
the evening for some of his charitable work. Another reason to admire the man—apparently, from the glowing remarks of the head of some committee or another, Max had spent a fortune helping to finance a summer youth camp program for underprivileged kids.

“Venus?” Troy asked, waiting patiently for her to step into his arms. She did so, immediately slipping her arms around his neck. He paused, then gently pulled one hand into his, and laced his fingers with hers. The other he placed on his shoulder.

“Look, my dance experience is the type where the girl wraps her arms around the guy’s neck and he plants his on her butt,” she said with a sigh. “Then they rub against each other to the music while they make out and wait for the lights to come up.”

He chuckled, easing her closer until their bodies nearly touched from neck to knee. “I wouldn’t mind that kind of dancing. But try it my way this time, okay?” Troy said. Then he began to move, indicating by the brush of his thigh against hers, or a slight squeeze of his hand, which way he was going.

Venus almost surprised herself at how quickly she was able to catch on. The song was strictly Muzak, but she found herself almost liking it, feeling the rhythm as she began to relax in Troy’s arms. Catching sight of the two of them in the reflection of a mirror over the bar, she hid a smile, thinking she did feel very much like Cinderella.

Troy probably wouldn’t appreciate the comparison to Prince Charming, who, even she had to admit, had been something of a wimp. Troy wasn’t the kind of man who’d rely on a glass slipper instead of his own eyes to track down the girl at the end of the story. Actually, when she thought about it, Troy probably would have se
duced the poor thing into his palace bachelor pad, making her miss her midnight curfew altogether.

She probably wouldn’t have given a damn.

“You must do this a lot,” she said. “You’re good.”

“Believe it or not, my mother forced us to take lessons when Trent and I were kids.”

She should have known he’d dance as well as he did everything else. As they moved to the music, she began to count the number of women who eyed him approvingly or, in some cases, hungrily. She lost count when she ran out of fingers. And toes.

“You’re doing very well, too,” he said. “Though, sometime, I’d like to try your kind of dancing. You’ve definitely put an image into my mind.” He lowered his voice. “Particularly since I know better than anyone what you have on under your clothes.”

Knowing he was referring to the underwear accompanying the dress, Venus bit her lip and lowered her eyes. “Uh, sorry to break it to you, but I’m not wearing them.”

He missed a step. “You have nothing on under that dress?”

She practically snorted. “Puh-lease. I haven’t gone braless since a month after I hit puberty.”

He sighed.

“But,” she admitted, “I’m not wearing the panties.”

Troy honestly tried to focus on the dance. Particularly since they were in the middle of a floor crowded with other couples, some less than graceful and prone to bumping into anyone in a ten-foot radius. But at Venus’s saucy announcement, he missed another step. “You’re really bad.”

“I thought we’d already established that,” she said, tossing her head and raising a brow.

“And I thought you were kidding when you said you don’t wear underwear.”

“Oh, you remember that, do you?”

Remember it? Remember her lying on the floor beside her bed, her sweet, naked butt the first sight he’d seen when he walked into her bedroom the other morning?

Yeah. He definitely remembered.

“I was kidding,” she finally admitted, her green eyes still sparkling with merriment.

“When were you kidding? Tuesday morning?” He glanced down at her dress, looking for any seams. He saw none. “Or now?”

Though it was probably wicked, he couldn’t help hoping she didn’t mean now. The idea of having her in his arms, in public, wearing a dress that felt like silky skin beneath his hands, bare from the waist down beneath it, was incredibly erotic.

“Tuesday,” she admitted, her smile sultry. She obviously knew what he’d been thinking. “I do wear them most of the time.”

“And tonight?”

She shrugged, drawing out the expectation with her silence. Then, finally, she shook her head.

He moved one hand down her back, continuing the dance. Resting his palm below her waist, just above the curve of her backside, he pulled her closer, letting her feel the way he’d reacted to the provocative image her confession had inspired.

Her eyes widened and he thought he heard a sound almost like a whimper. “I think I like your kind of dancing, too,” she admitted, pressing her body even closer.

“Good. Because I can’t walk off this floor right now,” he growled into her ear. “Are you going to tell me why you’re not wearing…anything?”

“They were very pretty, but I don’t do thongs.”

“Oh?”

She shook her head. “A friend of mine swears by them and got me to try them once. Frankly, I just don’t like feeling as if my cheeks are being flossed all night.”

He couldn’t prevent laughter from spilling out of his mouth. A few people on the dance floor looked over, but he ignored them.

“I suppose you had nothing else you could have worn?”

“Nope,” she said, completely unapologetic. “A dress this fabulous required something more special than anything I had in my suitcase.”

He nodded. “I agree with your reasoning. Much more special this way. There’s only one problem, the way I see it.”

She raised an inquisitive brow.

“That dress is silk. It tends to show moisture.” He brushed his lips across the tendril of hair at her temple, letting her feel his breaths. Moving his hand lower, until his fingers caressed the curve of her rear, he continued. “So you’d better be very careful not to get it wet.”

Her body tensed. This time, it was Venus who missed a step. He moved his hand around to her hip. “Or is it too late?”

“It was probably too late before we left the house,” she admitted, her voice thick and husky.

He swallowed, imagining her wet and ready for him. He remembered how slick and sweet she’d been the night before, the way she’d cried out when he’d caressed that hot flesh between her legs. Right now, he wanted to be inside her again more than he wanted to keep breathing. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

“What about Max?”

“We have two cars.”

She smiled slightly. “Lucky thing.”

“If Max hadn’t found a reason for riding separately, I would have.”

“Oh? How?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted. “But I would have come up with something.”

Pressing against his body, she could feel the hard-on straining against his suit trousers. “I think you’ve already come up with something.”

“Yeah,” he growled. “It’s going to stay that way, and we’re going to have to keep dancing, if you don’t knock it off.”

No way were they sticking around any longer than necessary. She stepped back so quickly she nearly bumped into someone dancing behind them.

He grinned. “Anxious?”

“Dying.”

“Ditto.”

Luckily, Venus managed to behave herself for the next dance, until Troy felt in control enough to walk off the floor. They stopped to tell Max they were heading out, and he didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, he went out of his way to tell them to enjoy themselves at the house, since he would have to stay here for another couple of hours. This wasn’t the first time Max had looked at him and Venus with a hint of understanding in his eyes. Troy liked knowing he had the elderly man’s silent blessing.

They waited quietly while the valet brought his car around to the front entrance of the club. Troy didn’t so much as hold her arm, not trusting himself to put one finger on her because his need for her was so great. She appeared to be having a similar problem. She held her body
straight and rigid, not meeting his eye, not until after they were in the car, pulling down the long driveway.

Troy made it about fifty yards away from the entrance before pulling off the side of the road. He stopped the car and reached for Venus. “I can’t wait.”

She unfastened her seat belt, leaning closer as their mouths met in a hot, frenzied kiss. “Me, neither.”

“God, I want you so much,” he muttered, tugging her closer. He lifted her right off her seat, placing her sideways in his lap. She wriggled her bottom against him, whimpering as she felt the raging erection that had returned.

They kissed again and again, their tongues hungrily mating as the heat in the car went from simmering to explosive.

“I told you this car is too damn small,” she muttered with a wince when they parted for air.

Glancing down, he saw the gear shift digging into her hip. “Here.” He slipped his hand down her body, until he reached her thigh. While he shifted her so her back was pressed against his chest, he tugged her dress up and her legs apart, then placed one of her sandal-clad feet on the seat she’d just vacated. The other was on the floor, right next to his own.

The high slit in the front of the dress fell open, revealing those beautiful toned legs, invitingly splayed open, the gear shift between her parted knees.

“Better?”

“Oh, much,” she said with a sigh as she turned her face to stare at him, her eyes hungry.

He agreed. The position was perfect. Her warm bottom fit snugly on his lap. She lifted her arm behind her head and turned her head up, tugging him down for another
one of those wet, frenzied kisses. His own hands were free to explore her.

She nearly purred as he slid his palm higher up her thigh. “Checking to see if I was lying?”

“I know you weren’t lying, Venus,” he said. “I’m just accepting the invitation you issued when you left your underwear at home.”

She silently invited him again, parting her legs wider, urging him on. When he finally reached the apex of her thighs, he found her warm, wet, and open. And, of course, unclothed.

Slipping his fingers between her slick folds, he heard her breath catch in her throat. He kissed her again, absorbing her whimpers and moans with his mouth as he slid one finger deep inside her and toyed with her clitoris with his thumb.

“You’re going to make me come right on the side of the road, where someone could drive past at any second,” she said, sounding both indignant and excited as hell.

“Yeah,” he replied, completely unapologetic. “I am.”

She smiled, then kissed him again, rocking her body against his fingers. The heady smell of sex filled the quiet car, the silence interrupted only by the sounds of their harsh breathing and her helpless whimpers. She was beautiful, open and responsive beneath his hands. Completely trusting. Intoxicatingly feminine.

Entirely his.

When her frenzy intensified, he took her higher until she shuddered and moaned her completion. She shook beneath his hand, her muscles contracting as her body was overcome with her rush of pleasure.

Troy watched her, saw the flush rise in her face, and her lips part as she gasped for air. Her eyes were nearly closed, her head tilted back. She bit her lip as she shook
with her powerful climax. Venus was an incredibly responsive woman, and it took all his willpower to avoid following her over the edge.