Derek blinked,his lips no longer working as he drank in the sight of Reese with her dress up past her hips. Her long creamy legs looked as soft as the dress she was wearing, and they went on and on up from the floor until he was treated to the sight of her pussy covered by a scrap of ivory lace.
Two little teeny tiny strings went left and right, allegedly holding the triangle panties up, though he didn’t see how it was gravitationally possible. The whole rig-up was about the size of a first class stamp.
Allowing him a long and lovely look at Reese’s inner thighs, soft curving hips, and tempting mound peeking at him invitingly. His hand shot out, ready to brush aside that lacy nothing, when her dress dropped down again.
He swore under his breath, but noticed that she didn’t bother to push the skirt all the way back to her knees, and that her breath was just as ragged as his. Damn, she was a sexy, gutsy thing. Dragging his eyes off the shadows the dress made between her thighs, the narrow little alley that would lead him straight to the jackpot, he shifted in his seat.
His cock was so hard he swore he was light-headed from lack of oxygen to the brain. He had been hard since the minute hehad walked into that lobby and Reese had been standing there, looking creamy and edible, wearing a classy pink dress that reminded him of pearls. Beautiful, luscious, strong.
“Those didn’t look big and white, with a stomach flap to control flab,” he managed to grind out.
“I must have forgot what I put on,” she said, looking every inch the naughty temptress that she was.
She had done something to her eyes, used some kind of black stuff that made them seem bigger, like she was always blinking at him in virginal innocence.
He reached for her, intent on ripping a little of that thinly veined satisfaction off her face. If he leaned to the side, his shoulders would block the driver’s view of the backseat, and he could slide his hand up Reese’s dress. Right into her thighs, where he would sink into her hot folds, the wet proof of her desire for him. He would make her come, biting her cries back, right here in the cab.
His thumb was under her skirt, Reese’s hand grabbing the back of his wrist with a panicked gasp, when the cab stopped.
“Here you go,” the cabby’s impatient voice shouted back to them.
Sliding under her panties on one side, Derek brushed across her soft fold, and watched her startled but excited reaction. He flicked the pad of his thumb over her clit.
She gasped, eyes rolling back.
“Too bad. I guess we’ll have to wait until later.” Pulling back his hand, he made sure she was covered before turning and opening the door.
The very rude word that came sailing from Reese’s mouth made him laugh.
EIGHTEEN
Reese watchedKnight’s gorgeous ass as he left the cab, and contemplated kicking it.
But she didn’t want to leave a dirty footprint on those nice pants.
He paid the cab while she got out and then took her by the elbow and guided her towards the door of the hotel where the reception was being held. For about a split second Reese thought it was polite and well mannered of him, then realized it was more likely he wanted to keep her close to him.
Probably afraid she’d corner Chatterton and whip out a microphone.
“Who are we supposed to be again?” Knight asked as they entered the majestic lobby and followed the doorman’s directions to the grand ballroom.
“I’m supposed to be the cousin of the fourth bridesmaid, Sharon Bismark. I’m still Reese and if they ask for a last name, I guess I’ll be a Bismark, too. You can be Dan Mitchell.”
She had pulled that name out of thin air and didn’t think it was that bad. She rubbed her arms again. “Geez, what is the air-conditioning on? It’s freezing.”
“Maybe you should have worn a dress with, I don’t know...sleeves.”
They turned a corner and had to stop as the wedding guests clogged the reception line to the ballroom. Knight said, “And I don’t like the name Dan, by the way.”
“What’s wrong with Dan? It’s not like Derek is so great.”
“What’s wrong with Derek?”
“Nothing.” She smiled to soothe him. “But I’ll stick with Knight, if you don’t mind.”
“You know, I don’t need a fake name. Chatterton has no idea who I am. He doesn’t know my name or what I look like.” Knight eased her forward as the line began to move again.
Trying not to inhale the obnoxious cloying perfume of the woman in front of her, Reese turned to face him. “Okay, fine, you stay Knight, then. Don’t go all cranky on me.”