called through the slight opening, “Anyone in here?”
“Go away,” Colby said.
“Are you sure you want me to leave?” A long silence followed. “Is anyone in there with you?”
“No.”
“‘No,’ you don’t want me to leave or ‘no,’ there’s no one in there with you?”
“Both.” Colby sniffled and answered the door, blotting her mascara.
An oversized chaise and mirrored vanity decorated the sitting room, which smelled of the dozens of roses in the crystal vases surrounding them. Dorian went inside and closed the door behind him.
“Are you all right? What happened?”
Colby forced a chuckle. “Do you know how long it’s been since someone asked how I was?”
“I’m sorry . . .”
Colby held her well-manicured finger to his lips. “I don’t need you to be.” She kissed him, pressing her body against his and pushing him backward until he hit the door. Reaching behind him, she locked it.
Dorian returned her eager kisses with the aggression and passion that had always sent her over the edge. She reached down and slid her hand over the length of him until he couldn’t stand it a minute longer. He turned her to face the full-length mirror and worked the slit of her dress up over her hips. He kissed the back of her neck, watching her willing expression as she moaned in response. Her hot breath steamed up the mirror, and he backed up, for only a second, to take her in.
Stiletto heels. Black silk panties. Thigh highs.
She was stunning.
“Tell me you want me.” Dorian cupped his hand between her legs. Her wetness soaked through the silk and coated his fingers. She smelled like vanilla and sex, and her heat drove him crazy.
She arched to meet the curve of his hand. “I want you.”
He all but tore off her underwear, and unzipped his pants.
A knock came at the door, and she begged him not to answer. He covered her mouth with his right hand and thrust into her, squeezing her left breast. She pressed her palms flat against the glass and met his driving pace.
Soft moans escaped through his splayed fingers and mixed with his own stifled cries, just loud enough to drown out the sound of his name being repeatedly called from the podium.
CHAPTER 23
Jared awoke the next morning, tangled in the sheets of the guest bedroom that had become his second home. His head ached from downing a fifth of vodka after the embarrassing night that had him wondering if he shouldn’t just call County and quit.
Colby’s fling with Simon had been bad, but this thing with Dorian was so much worse. Jared tried to block out the humiliation that resurfaced the minute he thought of the emcee calling Dorian’s name and Dorian stumbling out of the ladies’ room after Colby. Colby’s hair had come loose from its pins, and the back of her gown was tucked into her underwear. Dorian’s bow tie was crooked, and his pants were unzipped.
For as long as Jared lived, he’d never forgive her.
Finances aside, and there was a considerable amount of wealth and property to consider, Jared had been holding out hope that Colby would find the right thing to say to make him forgive her. There was no simple solution, but it was clear that he and Colby were through.
He opened the bedroom door and listened to the silence that had replaced the sound of repeated toilet flushing, most likely because the alcohol had made Colby sick.
Jared turned on his cell phone, which he had shut off after Mitchell’s tenth message, and checked the time. His shift started in a little over an hour, and as much as he wanted to be anywhere other than in the same house with Colby, the thought of facing the medical staff made him cringe.
He staggered down the hall toward the master bedroom and found an awaiting disaster.
“What the hell?” He reached across a mound of his belongings and wiggled the locked door handle. “Colby, open up.” He pounded the door with the heel of his hand, the jolting pressure sharpening his dull headache. “Colby,
“Go away,” Colby said.
“Are you sure you want me to leave?” A long silence followed. “Is anyone in there with you?”
“No.”
“‘No,’ you don’t want me to leave or ‘no,’ there’s no one in there with you?”
“Both.” Colby sniffled and answered the door, blotting her mascara.
An oversized chaise and mirrored vanity decorated the sitting room, which smelled of the dozens of roses in the crystal vases surrounding them. Dorian went inside and closed the door behind him.
“Are you all right? What happened?”
Colby forced a chuckle. “Do you know how long it’s been since someone asked how I was?”
“I’m sorry . . .”
Colby held her well-manicured finger to his lips. “I don’t need you to be.” She kissed him, pressing her body against his and pushing him backward until he hit the door. Reaching behind him, she locked it.
Dorian returned her eager kisses with the aggression and passion that had always sent her over the edge. She reached down and slid her hand over the length of him until he couldn’t stand it a minute longer. He turned her to face the full-length mirror and worked the slit of her dress up over her hips. He kissed the back of her neck, watching her willing expression as she moaned in response. Her hot breath steamed up the mirror, and he backed up, for only a second, to take her in.
Stiletto heels. Black silk panties. Thigh highs.
She was stunning.
“Tell me you want me.” Dorian cupped his hand between her legs. Her wetness soaked through the silk and coated his fingers. She smelled like vanilla and sex, and her heat drove him crazy.
She arched to meet the curve of his hand. “I want you.”
He all but tore off her underwear, and unzipped his pants.
A knock came at the door, and she begged him not to answer. He covered her mouth with his right hand and thrust into her, squeezing her left breast. She pressed her palms flat against the glass and met his driving pace.
Soft moans escaped through his splayed fingers and mixed with his own stifled cries, just loud enough to drown out the sound of his name being repeatedly called from the podium.
CHAPTER 23
Jared awoke the next morning, tangled in the sheets of the guest bedroom that had become his second home. His head ached from downing a fifth of vodka after the embarrassing night that had him wondering if he shouldn’t just call County and quit.
Colby’s fling with Simon had been bad, but this thing with Dorian was so much worse. Jared tried to block out the humiliation that resurfaced the minute he thought of the emcee calling Dorian’s name and Dorian stumbling out of the ladies’ room after Colby. Colby’s hair had come loose from its pins, and the back of her gown was tucked into her underwear. Dorian’s bow tie was crooked, and his pants were unzipped.
For as long as Jared lived, he’d never forgive her.
Finances aside, and there was a considerable amount of wealth and property to consider, Jared had been holding out hope that Colby would find the right thing to say to make him forgive her. There was no simple solution, but it was clear that he and Colby were through.
He opened the bedroom door and listened to the silence that had replaced the sound of repeated toilet flushing, most likely because the alcohol had made Colby sick.
Jared turned on his cell phone, which he had shut off after Mitchell’s tenth message, and checked the time. His shift started in a little over an hour, and as much as he wanted to be anywhere other than in the same house with Colby, the thought of facing the medical staff made him cringe.
He staggered down the hall toward the master bedroom and found an awaiting disaster.
“What the hell?” He reached across a mound of his belongings and wiggled the locked door handle. “Colby, open up.” He pounded the door with the heel of his hand, the jolting pressure sharpening his dull headache. “Colby,
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