Page 78 of Gorgeous

“Can I listen to you type it?” I melted. I could barely complete my review, but I did, knowing he needed the rest after the day he’d had.

We’ve talked every night on the phone since then, ending with him listening to my keystrokes every night. Today will be the second time I’ve seen him in the flesh since he told me about what happened to his team. I brought some pies—and jelly—over yesterday, and he kissed me goodbye, but otherwise we’ve been hands—and eyes—off, starting over like teenagers, getting to know each other over the phone.

A soft knock comes from outside the door, and I know it’s him waiting on the other side.

“Are you ready?” I say to the woman in the mirror. She is going to slay tonight. I blow myself a kiss. One, because I’m lame, and two, because I’ve never felt more beautiful than I do right now.

“Can I come in?” Cade asks. I’m only a wee bit nervous at him seeing me in the gown after our detox from each other. Anniston said he was going to be a walking erection all night. I may have fallen in love with her a little.

With one more quick inspection, and the deepest breath I can manage in this tight dress, I go to the door and pull it open.

“I’m sorry I was taking so long,” I tell him, looking down at his shoes. I don’t know why I started there. Maybe seeing him in a tux would be too much for these sheer panties. Or maybe it’s because I’m a chicken.

We’ll never know because Cade’s finger slides under my chin and lifts it slowly until we’re eye to eye. He swallows, his gaze lazy as it roams over every inch of me. “You look stunning.” The flush spreading across his neck tells me he thinks I’m more than just stunning. His gaze is that of a starving man who just found a buffet. He wants to devour me.

And let me admit, before you think I’m some kind of badass, I want to eat him up too.

This man in a tux is deadly.

Why is he deadly?

Because I may cut a bitch if she puts her hands on him.

This man. This aggravating man, is all mine tonight, and I plan on wrecking him.

“You look like a stripper,” I blurt out.

I never said I was good at dirty talk.

Cade laughs. “A stripper?” He looks down his front, probably checking for a thong hanging out of his pocket or something.

“I just mean, you look like a wet dream.”

That really makes him laugh. He tugs me closer, his arm slipping around my waist, his hand palming my ass. “Are you saying you have wet dreams about me, Brecklyn?”

There he goes again with calling me by my full name.

I pull back and make a show of rolling my eyes. “I didn’t saymywet dream. Justsomeone’s.”

“Uh huh.” He chuckles, pulling me in closer so his face is in my neck. “Keep telling yourself that.” The air from his breath tickles the back of my neck, and I shiver.

“You’re being overconfident again,” I remind him.

His tongue is suddenly against my neck, sucking, tasting when he hums, “And you’re being fucking tempting again.”

“Damn it.” Theo’s raised voice pulls Cade’s head up, and the heat on my face is now from more than Cade’s incredible tongue. “Anniston, put condoms in your purse. We’ll need to be the responsible ones tonight.”

Cade chuckles when Theo scowls like we ruined his fucking night. “That’s right, Von Bremen. You owe me for all the times I’ve covered for you,” Cade jokes over the top of my head before separating, placing a soft kiss on my cheek, and asking, “Are you ready to go?”

I nod, and Theo makes a pained noise, leading us down the stairs where Anniston is waiting, looking like Holiday Barbie. “B! You look stunning. A beautiful siren.” She winks at Cade and says, “Better hurry and put her in the car. The guys won’t hesitate to whack off to the image of her in this dress.”

I freeze, Anniston’s comment too similar to the one Cade said to me through the computer all those years ago. Holding my breath, I wait for Cade to put it all together and shove me away, but when he laughs over the top of my head, squeezing my hip firmly, I realize I’m just being paranoid. And probably guilty. Maybe I can tell him after the gala tonight. There’s no sense in ruining his evening now.

“I think you might be right, Commander.” The man who asked me a zillion questions on the phone over the past five days, getting to know me in every way possible, agrees with his commander’s assessment. Gently, he nudges my hip in the direction of the front door. “We should be going before we’re late.”

Three hours into the gala and I’ve concluded that I never want to do this again. It reminds me of my parents’ stuffy garden parties. Okay, saying it’s stuffy is rude. Most of the people are nice. I’ve only encountered a couple of assholes who obviously have more money than sense and need a tax write-off before the year’s end. They can go fuck themselves. Even Cade groaned before having to speak with them.

The highlight of the event has been hanging back with Theo while Anniston and Cade work the room, making connections and selling their mission statement. Theo, although rich himself, has a distinct dislike for most of the people and their plus-ones.

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