He keeps one arm under my ass and pulls his phone from his pocket with his free hand. “I can multitask.”
“You’re so clever,” I purr.
He shakes his head, his eyes burning into mine. “You’re about to be so fucked.”
“Oh, I know.”
Chapter
Thirty-One
MELANIE
“Have I told you that you look stunning tonight, Mrs. James?” Nathan hands me a glass of champagne, and my cheeks flush pink at his praise. He told me before we left the penthouse, but I could listen to this man tell me how good I look all day, every day.
“Thank you.” I flutter my eyelashes and run my free hand over his lapel. “I have to step up my game to have even a chance of competing with you in this tux, Mr. James.”
His deep brown eyes narrow, and I feel like he’s an apex predator and I’m his prey. Moving behind me, he glides one hand to the small of my back, then rests it on my hip. The other hand splays flat against my abdomen and pulls me closer. He places his sinful lips close to my ear, and his warm breath sends a shiver of pleasure down the length of my spine. A low growl rumbles in his throat as he kisses my neck. “You’re doing such a good job of playing the perfect wife, Mel, but I hope you know that I’m going to fuck you like my perfect little whore as soon as I get you alone.”
I blink at him in shock. Did he really just call me a—
“Nathan.” A female voice cuts off the retort balanced on my lips. “It’s so wonderful to see you.”
Nathan holds his hand out in greeting to the older lady, leaving me missing the warmth of his touch. “Mrs. Gregory. It’s always a pleasure. Have you met my wife, Melanie?”
I smile sweetly, playing the part of the devoted wife as I glance between him and the smiling lady with the white hair. She looks at the pair of us like we’re royalty, or at least a celeb power couple. How smoothly he transitions from a filthy-mouthed deviant to the respectable Nathan James. It’s astonishing.
“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.” Mrs. Gregory offers me her hand. “And haven’t I told you about calling me Elena? Mrs. Gregory makes me feel so old.”
I take her warm hand in mine. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Elena.”
Nathan’s father sidles up to us, offers a brief greeting to Elena, then tells Nathan he needs him to meet someone.
Dipping his head, my husband dusts his lips over my ear. “I’ll be back soon. Be good, my little siren.”
I turn my attention back to Elena, who links her arm through mine and proceeds to give me the inside track on all the most notorious people in the room.
It’s been almost an hour since Nathan disappeared with his father, and while I’ve had a lovely and incredibly informative time with Elena, I’m missing my husband and wondering where the hell he went. Making my way through the crowd, I scan the sea of faces until I spot him standing near the bar, talking to a tall blond woman. She throws her head back and laughs, revealing a set of dazzling white teeth behind full red lips. Then she squeezes his arm and takes a step forward, pressing her perky boobs up against his chest.
“Um, hi,” I say when I reach them.
Nathan doesn’t miss a beat. Slipping his arm around my waist, he pulls me to his side, and the blond steps back. “Deandra, this is my wife, Melanie.”
She looks me up and down, her lip curled in the hint of a sneer. “I heard you got married. Such a shame.”
I snort and wait for Nathan to tell her to go to hell, but the arrogant jackass only smirks. I’m sure this is the type of woman he dated before me. Impossibly beautiful and inherently confident. “Pleasure to meet you too, Deirdre. Enjoy yourself with my husband,” I say with a saccharine smile before I shrug out of his grip and walk away to find someone who actually wants to talk to me.
I’ve only taken a few steps when he grabs me by the wrist and discreetly pulls me to his side again, heeling me like a disobedient puppy.
“Get your hands off me,” I say through gritted teeth.
He ignores my demand and marches me out of the ballroom. As soon as we’re in the quiet hallway, he releases his grip on me. “What the hell was that about?”
I open and close my mouth. “Seriously? She was rubbing her tits against you and then said you getting married was a shame, and all you did was smirk at her.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “I didn’t smirk at her.”
I fold my arms across my chest. “Pretty sure you did.”
“Okay, I smirked, corazón, but not at her. Not like that. Deandra is very well-known in these circles.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“She hits on every man she talks to. Provided they’re rich, of course.”
“She was rubbing herself against you.”
He shakes his head. “She stepped in for a hug, and I would have stepped back had you not arrived like my pint-sized protector to stake your claim.” His lips twitch again. “Which was hot as fuck, by the way.”
“I did not stake my claim.”
His eyes roam over my body like he’s not paying all that much attention to anything I say. “Seemed like you did.”
Damn, he’s infuriating! “You called me a whore.”
Now I have his full attention. He glares at me, his brow furrowing. Then he grabs my arm and drags me into an alcove, maneuvering me until we’re partially hidden by an antique suit of armor on display. “I did not call you a whore.”
“You said—”
