Page 80 of The Price of Scandal
“Would you like one after…”
“After what?” Derek asked. The question was practically a whisper. A quiet breath usually reserved for silky sheets and moonlight.
The hum of pleasure was a full-blown jet engine in my ears. It was simple biology. I had been bred to find a man in a tuxedo beddable. But tastefully so. With candles, a non-disclosure agreement, and a hotel suite. Not the kind of panty-ripping, half-clothed, dark alley fuck I was envisioning starring Derek Price.
“What goes on in that head?” he asked, cupping my chin.
“Surprise!”
My brother’s voice had never been more unwelcome in my life. That included the time he’d drunkenly fallen through the window into my bedroom when I’d been entertaining my prom date.
26
Emily
“Trey?” It was too hard to shift gears between being unreasonably turned on and being blindsided by an unexpected brother. That’s when I remembered that my brother dearest’s absence was the reason I’d been forced to attend tonight’s event. “What are you doing here? I thought you were putting together some music festival?”
“Musicians are fickle bitches. It’s a cluster. Have you met Theolonia? She’s famous on the ’gram.” Trey pushed a large breasted beauty at me. She was chewing gum and texting. Mom wouldloveher.
“I haven’t had the pleasure,” I said.
“’Sup?” Theolonia said with a surprising baby-soft squeak. She hadn’t looked up from her phone yet. Though, to be fair, her phone case was an eye-catching glittery pink disco ball design with frolicking unicorns.
Behind me, Derek covered a soft laugh with a cough.
“Trey, this is Derek Price,” I said, dragging him up to face off against the cleavage that was considering an explosive escape from Theolonia’s candy pink gown.
“Ah, right. The fixer. This is probably an easy job for you since Em’s so squeaky clean,” my brother said, flashing his not-found-in-nature white teeth.
“Your sister is proving to be a fascinating challenge,” Derek said, eyeing me.
Trey threw his arm around his date’s shoulders. “Yeah, right,” he laughed.
My lifestyle of working hard, working out, and then going home and working some more was as abhorrent to Trey as his lifestyle was to me. We were baffled by each other.
Even now, both dressed to the nines, our differences were as pronounced as ever. He was cabana boy tan. His bow tie was unknotted and hanging loosely against the open collar of his shirt. His hair, a sun-kissed dirty blond, was long at the collar. He had our father’s jaw and our mother’s obsession with image. As far as I knew, he had never held down a job. His paycheck came in the form of regular payouts from the trust fund that he’d already “accidentally” drained twice. He was wearing the Rolex I’d given him for his twenty-fifth birthday.
Instead of the thank you I’d expected, he’d winced. “This isn’t the one I wanted.” Every time I saw that watch on his wrist, I wanted to punch something.
“Has Mom seen you yet?” I asked.
“Nope. Surprising all of you just like those soldier homecoming vids,” he chirped. My brother really did believe him popping into the country, a big-breasted social media model on his arm, was exactly the same.
Sometimes I wondered why I loved him.
But again, I supposed it was something that had been bred into me. Trying to fight it was futile.
I made a mental note to be in the ladies room when Trey surprised my parents.
“Hey, listen, do you have a sec?” Trey asked, suddenly serious.
I knew exactly what was coming. “Sure,” I sighed. “I’ll be back shortly,” I told Derek.
“I’ll get you a drink,” he said, eyes skimming to the still-full champagne flute in my hand. “Perhaps something stronger?”
The man was good. Intuitive. Sneaky. Smart. Sexy.Would it be the worst thing in the world to let the “for the cameras” flirtation transition to behind closed doors?
Trey led me out of the ballroom and into a hallway. Here the floors were covered in thick, luxurious rugs. The paintings were hung on gold, textured walls and highlighted under brass lamps.
