Page 76 of Ruse
To callthis a party would be an insult to the masses.
Three champagne fountains, each twelve layers high, with Veuve Clicquot dripping along the sides of the cut-crystal glasses like a golden river flowing to the beat of the delicate hymns playing in the background. Gleaming crystal chandeliers hanging from the top of the white gazebos intricately arranged around the pool with warm white string lights beautifully draped along the ceilings illuminating the otherwise dark outdoor area. Along the outer deck, two large ice sculptures, resembling the night's honorees, and a Michelin Star 5-course buffet are set up on four wide tables against the wall.
It looks like we’re hosting a backyard wedding reception or at least an elegant engagement party, not a soiree for a high school football team, who might I add have only won their first game of the season. My father is up to something. Or maybe he’s finally lost it, I mean it was bound to happen at some point.
God that means crazy runs on both sides of the family, deeming Brooklyn and I royally screwed.
Yet everyone around us is dressed for the occasion, used to these types of events on the regular. I haven’t been back to the country club since before my mother’sepisode, but this was the norm in my world prior to the life-changing epiphany I had.
The men dashing in three-piece suits, the women exquisitely put together like they are about to walk the runway during Paris Fashion Week or attend a Royal Gala fit for the Queen of England. It’s all too much and frankly a little unsettling.
For a moment, I think of cutting out on the whole shindig, maybe calling Donovan and Darcy up and driving out to Nobu for some sushi, sake, and girl time, but then again, being here, showing my support for Brooklyn, might mean something to him and convince him finally to take his head out of his ass where it’s been hiding for months.
Football is everything to my brother, and maybe it’s all he needs to go back to being the old Brooklyn I love and miss.
Regardless of the reason, I went with it, dressing up for the occasion and ready to play the part of doting daughter and supportive sister. My nerves, however, have nothing to do with how extravagant and suspicious this affair seems, but everything to do with the tempting yet inconspicuous promise Maverick made to me last night.
I want every fucker there to know you are mine. Make no mistake Nyx, you are mine.
His commanding tone still sends a shiver down my spine at the memory of how erotic he sounded, my skin tingling with so much desire I don’t know if I’ll make it through the evening without him. I obeyed his demand, since it wasn’t a request, and dressed in the sleek gold dress, the one I wore for him the first night he kissed me forcing me to give in to the carnal urges I felt when he was around.
Tonight, I’m hoping he does the same.
Although however excited I was just a minute ago, the moment I step out into the yard I feel this sudden and potent urge to throw up. Maybe it’s the snide stares, or the turned-up noses of those in attendance, watching me with curious and patronizing eyes. Whatever the reason may be, all I want to do is curl up into a little ball back in the comfort of my bedroom. To be invisible, inconsequential. At least then I could live my life without the judgment of others.
I make it three steps off the deck before powerful arms wrap around my waist, whisking me into the air forcing a loud squeal to leave my lips as I’m set back down. Now every single pair of eyes is on me, well on us, and the way our bodies fit perfectly together, our breathing and heartbeats in perfect synchronization.
Turning around, I lean back out of his hold and look up to meet his gaze, nearly fainting from how much desire I see in his eyes. His pupils are dilated, his nostrils flaring, and his teeth are digging so far into his bottom lip, I swear he’s about to draw blood.
“Maverick,” I moan, about to say fuck this whole thing and force him to take me upstairs and fuck me raw. The urge is too strong, and the need to be in his arms, pushed up against his naked chest, as his lips caress every inch of my body, nipping at my sensitive flesh, and making me writhe in pleasure is overwhelming.
A black dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the top three buttons undone is tucked into a pair of black slacks that wrap tightly around his thighs and ass. A sleek yet classic gold chain hangs around his neck, and instead of the usual black plugs he has gauged in his ear, are two, white gold-plated diamond studs. He looks mouthwatering and suddenly I feel the urge to drag him inside and hide him in my room so nobody else can admire his beauty.
Without speaking, the raw intensity of his gaze speaking a language only I understand, he lowers his lips to mine, his hard body towering over me while his lips tease me, taunt me, making me ravenous before softly pressing against mine. This kiss is nothing like the other’s we’ve had. There is no urgency, no need to devour, to control, it’s a simple caress of two mouths. A gentle display of two souls that need to feel each other's warmth and express with their lips what they cannot fathom to define with words.
His tongue enters my mouth quickening the speed and intensity of the kiss, my arms wrapping around his neck, tugging on his hair as he does the same to mine. Purely carnal, and full of nothing but emotion and desire.
Mav releases my lips, tugging my head back to meet his lustful dark eyes. The cool autumn breeze tickles my neck as a mosaic of dark purple, pink, and blue skies light up the sky behind him.
“Mine,” he whispers against my forehead, pressing his lips to the top of my head. That’s when I realize what we’ve done. He told me the moment we walked hand in hand through the doors of our house, everyone would know I belonged to him. We may not have walked out together, but this kiss was his way of showing everyone what we are.
I’m only furious at him for a second before the reality of it all comes crashing down on me and I’m relieved. Relieved I no longer have to hide these feelings, but most importantly, relieved he feels the same way.
Mav takes my hand and together we walk through the party, the stares from those who earlier greeted me with disdain, now greet us with smiles and well wishes. It’s ironic that yet another scandal, one I thought would dig me deeper into the hole I fell into, is what I needed to amend my rather tarnished reputation. Dating your stepbrother sure rolls off the tongue better than a cheating father and suicidal mother.
Maybe it’s the whole forbidden aspect of it all.
Everyone craves the forbidden or that in which they cannot indulge without judgment or conviction. They call it taboo and frown upon it, but it’s everything they all desire deep down inside. The carnal urges and devious wants they hide behind closed doors, Mav and I parade around without a care in the world. Though our moment is cut short when I hear my father’s voice coming from behind us.
“Phoenix,” he mutters, anger clear in the tone of voice he uses. Anger but a hint of apprehension, afraid to cause a scene in the middle of his party.
The moment I turn and find him standing arm in arm with Daphne, the two of them dressed head to toe in pristine white designer outfits, everything makes sense. The reason we’ve all been called here, the grandness of the event all hidden under the ruse of a party in my brother’s honor, is yet another one of his surprises.
A wedding reception. The one they didn’t have when they eloped two months ago.
“Phoenix, Maverick, we’re so glad the two of you could make it.” The eloquence of her voice is a mask hiding her true feelings written on her face at the sight of me on the arm of her son. As much as she tries, Daphne can’t hide her dislike as well as my father can, because deep down his reputation matters most, and he won’t do anything about his true feelings in the middle ofhisparty.
“A wedding,” I mutter, biting down on my tongue to not let what I really want to say to him slip out.
