Page 106 of The Worst Best Man
She snapped a selfie of mainly just her boobs and sent it.
Aiden: I’ve never gotten an erection in an analyst meeting before. This is interesting.
Frankie laughed. She didn’t know if he was kidding, or if he really was texting her during a meeting. Either way, she felt lighter. And if he thought fifty-grand was an acceptable level of spending, then her pretty dress and a pair of shoes wouldn’t kill either of them.
“Okay, Pru. Where are we going for shoes?”
Chapter Forty
Frankie spent more time prepping for this double date than she had her senior prom and the two weddings she’d been in combined. She had been plucked, glossed, lotioned, and smoothed and was starving to death by the time their car pulled up in front of the restaurant.
Chip and Pru extracted themselves from the permanent embrace marriage seemed to have sewn them into.
“Aiden’s here,” Pru said, pointing at the limo in front of them. All limos looked the same to her, so she took their word for it.
Frankie felt her blood sing. She wanted to see him here on his own turf. See what she’d been missing out on. She wanted to watch his pupils dilate when he got his first good look at her in this damn dress. She wanted him to be proud to have her on his arm.
And she wanted to eat some goddamn dinner.
“Just two photographers,” Chip said, glancing out the window. “They must not have seen Aiden yet.”
Frankie gulped. “Why? Does he get a lot of attention?”
Pru and Chip exchanged a look. “You’ll be fine. Just be you,” Chip said, patting her on the knee. He exited the car first and held a hand out for Pru.
Frankie saw the flash of a camera and rolled her eyes. Who in the hell in their right mind would camp out in front of a restaurant in February just to snap a few pictures of people?
She stepped out next and immediately forgot about the photographers. There on the sidewalk in front of her was Aiden Freaking Kilbourn, and he was closing in on her like a lion on a slow, fat gazelle. The look in his eyes told her he was hungry, too. Just not for dinner.
Frankie felt a cold rush of air and realized she’d forgotten to button her coat. Aiden noticed too as the wind opened the cashmere, parting it.
She swore he licked his lips, and then his hands were on her and then his mouth. His touch ignited every nerve ending in her body as if they’d been waiting for this exact moment. It was chemistry, biology. Something hardwired into them both, and Frankie couldn’t get enough of it.
He kissed her hard, licking into her mouth to stroke his tongue against hers, leaving no doubt to any witnesses exactly who she belonged to. Laying claim to her.
She didn’t like being on display. Didn’t like the attention. And she would have told him so if she hadn’t been so busy clinging to him like a vine.
“So, we’ll just go get some drinks then,” Chip said, pointing toward the restaurant and dragging the grinning Pru after him.
“Meet you crazy kids inside,” Pru called after them.
“We’ll be back,” Aiden answered without looking away from her. There were flashes of light, and Frankie was dimly aware of questions being hurled at them both. And then Aiden was tucking her under his arm and guiding her back to his limo. He opened the door and ushered her inside.
“Drive until I say so,” he ordered tersely and then raised the privacy glass.
“What about dinner?” Frankie asked, sliding across the bench seat to accommodate him.
“We’re having dessert first,” he breathed, freeing her of her coat. His hands cruised her dress, stopping reverently just beneath her abundant cleavage.
“Do you know what happened after you sent that picture today?”
“What?” she breathed, needing him to touch her. Afraid that when he did, she’d cease to exist. She ran her palms over his thighs.
“I had to excuse myself from the meeting to jerk off in my bathroom.
Her breath was a shiver. “Did you think of me?”
“Gorgeous, I’m always thinking of you.” He reached down and palmed his hard-on through his pants.
