Page 64 of Sex, Lies, and Margarita Mixes

Turning, I face him. He’s leaning in the doorway of the hotel bathroom, shirtless, of course, towel slung low on his hips, showing off that “V” that makes me lose my mind and has me on my knees, literally, far too often. His hair is damp and messy from the shower. He’s in here looking like he walked straight off the cover of Smoldering Husbands Who Soak Their Wives Panties Monthly.

His drags his gaze down my body and it feels like a caress, lingering at the curve of my waist and the deep—and I mean deep—plunge of the neckline. “You planning to reclaim your company’s reputation… or start an OnlyFans?”

I smirk and shimmy as I drop my shorts and step into the dress, shooting him a look from over my shoulder as I reply, “Why not both?”

He grins and pushes off the doorframe. “If you’re gonna film this redemption reel in that dress… you better let me zip it now and unzip it after.”

I roll my eyes but present my back to him. “Fine. But keep your hands on the outside of the dress, Mr. West.” His fingertip drags down my spine. “For now.”

His warm hands slide to my hips instead, softly squeezing them. “That’s not where my hands wanna be.” He zips it. My head rolls forward as he leans in, his lips brushing against the side of my neck before his warm breath tickles the shell of my ear as he groans, “Baby… you’re a vision. You’re gonna break the internet.”

“Damn right, I am,” I mutter, reaching for the makeup bag. “But only after you get your lusty paws off me so I can film this reel before you make me ruin this expensive as fuck dress.”

“I’ll stick a pin in it.” He steps back but smacks my ass. His eyes meet mine in the mirror. “I’ll be watching from the bed.” He drops the towel. “Naked.” And lies back on the bed, setting one arm behind his head, he stares at me while he fists his cock.

Groaning, I flip him off in the mirror. “Behave.”

He winks and continues the slow stroking. “Never.”

He’s going to kill me… or have me accidentally post a sex tape live on the damn internet!

Setting up the phone tripod in the middle of the hotel room, I try to ignore my mouthwatering husband and test the angles, making sure the balcony doors let in just enough sunset glow to halo me in golden light. The dress sparkles. My hair’s curled and pinned half up. My lips are matte red. My face is utter perfection. And Chase is nowhere in the frame.

Thank God.

I lift a margarita glass. Lower my sunglasses.. just enough—and give the camera my best saucy smirk.

“I still believe in love. I just don’t believe in bullshit,” I say, raising the glass in a toast.

A slow-motion spin. A wink over my bare shoulder. I take a sip, smile, then, say the words, “Next chapter. Coming soon.”

Done. I think I killed that shit.

Chase slow claps from the bed. “Oscar-worthy, baby.”

I check the playback. It’s absolute fire. I schedule the post for first thing tomorrow, tag our business account, Mari Lynn, and every other wedding blog I’ve ever bribed with cake pops, plus, a few I just know follow us.

As I hit save, Chase huskily calls from the bed. “Video is done and now… your zipper’s asking to be freed, babe.”

I turn. He’s stretched across the bed, legs wide, hard, beautiful cock in his hand. He looks smug… and hot, as hell.

“You’re an asshole for making me do that in this” I gesture to myself, “while you laid there… like that.” I mutter.

He grins and raises his brow. “You were a pro.” He sits up watches me. “And now, it’s my turn.” Standing, he stares at me as he slowly crosses the room, stalking me like prey. “I zipped, and now, I get to unzip.”

I watch him watch me and glance at the mirror. The dress fits me like a dream.

He reaches me and his hands drift up my arms. I shiver at his touch and manage to say, “Careful, baby. This is a very expensive dress.”

“I’ll be gentle.” He growls.

“You’ve never been gentle.” I reply.

“Exactly.” He pulls me against him. My back to his front. Through the thick tulle, I feel his erection pressed against my ass.

I moan as he cups my breasts through the corset top. His fingers slip beneath the tight bodice and he touches my nipples. We’re watching him toy with me through the reflection. My head falls back and rests on his shoulder. “The dress stays on.” I groan.

He grins, “Okay, but that means… you’re riding.”

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