Mr. White

Chapter 3

Chapter Three

I round the corner of the barn and stop short. She’s on the phone. Still, I can’t help but eavesdrop when I see the forlorn expression on her face. I want to go to her, pull her into my arms and protect her from whatever bad news she’s in the process of receiving. Those arresting blue eyes that do crazy things to me are pools of sorrow as she peppers the person on the other end of the phone with questions. “Are you sure? There’s no other option? What about cost?” Her face freezes, and whatever the number quoted, it’s more than she wants to hear. Her eyes lift skyward and she blows out a breath. “Okay. Whatever you think is best.” It’s then that she glances over and catches me staring. I can’t help it. I’m captivated by the quality of her voice - husky without being forced. The kind of voice I want to hear crying out my name as an o****m rips through her. “May I call you back?” She ends her call with a tilt of her head, and before she can turn her rapid-fire questions on me, I step forward.

“Is everything okay? I couldn’t help but overhear.”

Her eyes go soft and for a moment, she looks like she wants to pour out her heart. Instead, she drops her phone into a gold clutch that matches her strappy stilettos, and gives me a cool smile, her face becoming a mask of serenity. “I’m fine, thank you.”

My chest pulls tight. I shouldn’t be disappointed - to be honest, I’m kind of a d**k, and I have too much baggage to bother with things like empathy, or compassion. That s**t’s for p*****s. And any compassion I was born with was beat out of me at a young age. But something deep inside me sparks to life. Something’s weighing on her, and I can’t let it go. I take two steps closer and offer my hand. “Declan. Brother of the groom.”

She gives me a cautious smile but takes my hand. Electricity races up my arm as if I’ve been shocked. Her hand fuses to mine and her eyes widen to circles. “I didn’t realize Jason had twin brothers.”

“Half-brothers, and we’re triplets.” Her brows knit together, and I rush to clarify. “But two of us are identical twins.”

The corner of her mouth quirks. “Oh?”

“Only if you look closely, my nose is a little crooked.”

She c***s her head, openly amused now, plump lips widening. “Oh. Yes, I can see that. Broken nose?”

I nod, running my thumb along the hollow in her hand. “Jason thumped me when I was eleven.” He did a lot more than thump me, but those are my secrets to keep.

She lets go, then reaches up and traces a finger down the bridge of my nose. It’s not by nature a seductive move, but her touch instantly arouses me. My c**k stirs to life. “That must have hurt,” she says in a soft, husky voice.

“Yes,” I answer barely above a whisper. I want her to keep touching me, to run her fingers lightly across my skin and never stop.

“So much hurt in your eyes,” she whispers, fingers spreading out to trace the bones of my eye socket, then down my cheek to my jaw. I freeze, lungs aching with the need to release air. How can she know that? What does she see? Again, my chest has the sensation of being cracked open, like she’s reaching in and grabbing my still pounding heart. My stomach yo-yos. I want to say something, to acknowledge the riot of emotions careening through my body, but I’m fairly certain my brain no longer knows how to form words. I’m reduced to a vibrating mass of energy.

There’s something blatantly erotic about the way she touches me, and the trail of goosebumps her fingers leave behind. She traces a finger along my lower lip, and I react, capturing the tip of her digit between my teeth. Her pupils widen, and her mouth drops open as I bite down, then suck, sliding my tongue against her skin. My nerve endings spring to life, singing with anticipation. The air between us crackles, and I slowly reach for her hand, tugging her fingertip free and interlacing our fingers in one smooth move. “You’re playing a dangerous game,” I warn, voice turning to gravel.

Her mouth tips up at my comment, and a mischievous sparkle flickers in her eyes. “Oh?” My other arm snakes around her, pulling her body flush against mine. Toe to toe, thigh to thigh. Her chin tilts up and her eyes scan my face, coming to rest on my mouth. My hand settles on the small of her back, fingers splayed out across the top of her a*s. The silk of her dress ripples like water under my fingers, sliding against her skin with surprising ease. My c**k swells with a jolt. I’m certain she’s not wearing underwear. I smooth my hand against the material, but there’s no catch, no telltale ridge of thong or panty line.

My imagination goes wild.

I visualize plump p***y lips, pink and slick with arousal. Bare or trimmed? Bare, I decide. I would give my left nut to taste her right now, to pleasure her until she lets go with a cry.

Her husky, low voice interrupts my fantasy and offers another one, just as tempting. “Would a kiss be dangerous?”

Would a kiss be dangerous? With a woman like this, who seems to be able to peer into my soul at will? Who stares at me like she wants to devour every inch of me? I’m the pursuer, and she wants to be caught. The realization is as arousing as it is disturbing. One kiss, and she could bring me to my knees. And yet I want it. Oh how I want it. “Very.”

She brings her hand, still holding her tiny clutch, to rest behind my shoulder. She’s f*****g offering herself to me on a silver platter. My d**k is pushing angrily against my boxer briefs, shouting for me to just get on with it, but I hesitate. Desire is running through my veins, my mouth waters at the thought of tasting her, of inhaling the floral scent of her that surrounds us, now that she’s pressed against me, soft and pliant. And expectant. Her tongue slips out to wet her lower lip while her eyes rove hungrily over my face.

Yet I hold still, mind racing as I cover all the potential disastrous outcomes as if I were a chess player. I’m on a precipice, and the second I step out into nothingness, drown in the exquisite sensation of kissing her, I’ll be lost. It makes no sense, but I know I’ll be tying a piece of my soul to her the moment our lips meet. The pull of her is that strong. How I know this, is a mystery, but I do.

“Declan.” She says my name like she relishes the feel of it in her mouth, eyes lighting in appreciation as her mouth widens into a smile. “Kiss me.”

I realize I don’t even know her name, but before I can ask, her mouth is on mine. And holy hell, it’s as sweet and luscious as I imagined. Like cotton candy and strawberries, and warm bodies lying in the late afternoon sun. I feel infinity spooling out in front of me as I take control of the kiss, deepening our connection as she opens her mouth with a sigh, melting against me.

We part, breathless, and she stares up at me wide-eyed. “I never want to forget this,” she says, with a note of regret. “I want to remember this moment forever.”

“I’ll make sure of it,” I murmur, capturing her mouth again in a fierce kiss. I don’t hold back, I plunder her mouth, tongue sliding against hers, tasting every corner, exploring every recess. Every cell in my body is burning with need. My c**k is like a hot poker, and I tighten my embrace, grinding into the soft swell of her belly. She makes a noise deep in her throat as she rolls her hips, seeking friction. A silent, erotic dance, where our bodies make the music, and my heart drums with deep bass notes. I delight in the little noises she makes, each sigh, each throaty moan fueling the fire that’s rising within me. My fingers burn where I touch her, my body has come alive in a way I haven’t felt in years.

Her cell-phone vibrates against my shoulder and starts playing Freddy Mercury’s The Show Must Go On. She stiffens with a gasp and pulls away. “OhmygodI’msosorry,” she says in a rush. “I have to go.”

“But-”

“Please forgive me.”

The heartbroken look has returned to her face, and it pulls at me. I step after her, overcome with the urge to offer comfort, but she’s already out of reach, fishing her phone from her purse. “Tell me your name,” I call.

“Emmaline,” she returns over her shoulder as she disappears around the corner of the barn.

Disappointment floods me, and I bend, bracing my hands against my thighs, bringing my breathing back under control. Who was it that called? I’m seized by jealousy at the thought that there’s someone else in her life. It wouldn’t be the first time someone unavailable went looking for kisses at a wedding. But just as quickly, my stomach drops with alarm. What if she’s in trouble? What if she needs help? It was just one kiss, and I’m tied up in knots, emotions rumbling through me like a 7.9 quake.

I give myself a shake. I have more important things to worry about than ruminating over a kiss from a beautiful woman. With a sigh, I retrieve my phone from my inside pocket. Still no confirmation. An icy ball of dread pools in my gut, and as I make my way back to the party, I start brainstorming contingency plans. I’ve sunk nearly all my funds into this luxury development project going up in six locations worldwide. The ROI will be tenfold if I make the last investment deposit by midnight. Miss the deadline, and it’s a paltry 2% return, plus my liquidity tied up for three-years. Minimum.