Corrupting Cinderella (18 page)

“Did I tell you how beautiful you are tonight?”

Her lashes flutter as she drops her gaze. “No.”

“Then I’m an asshole. You’re gorgeous, and I’m a lucky bastard to have you on my arm.”

Mara meets us almost right away, which seems to help Hope relax a notch. I vaguely remember meeting Mara before. Except for her slightly more generous curves and shorter stature, she and Hope could be sisters. Mara has the same fair coloring, although her hair is a few shades lighter.

Squeezing Hope tight, she starts chattering a mile a minute. “I’m so, so happy to see you guys. I hate, hate, hate these things.”

Hope’s mouth curves into a smile. “I know.”

“Tell me the truth, Hope. Does this dress look okay?”

My gaze drifts over the clingy white garment splashed with bright red roses. More than okay. She’s quite stunning, actually. But no one asked for my opinion, so I keep it to myself.

“It’s beautiful,” Hope answers.

Running self-conscious hands over her hips, she asks Hope again, “You’re sure it doesn’t accentuate my giant, baby-bearing hips?”

I choke on a laugh. A completely inappropriate comment about men liking something to hold on to pops in my head, but I manage to keep my mouth shut.

Hope chuckles. “No, honey. You’re gorgeous.”

Just then, a tall, authoritative man slips his hand around Mara’s waist. “Are you fishing for compliments again, lovely?”

Mara’s nose twitches. “No. I was trying to get an honest opinion from Hope. You’ll tell me I look hot in a hefty bag.”

“That’s because it’s true.”

He tears his gaze from his wife to greet Hope. Then his hawk eyes settle on me. He quirks an eyebrow at Hope.

“Judge Oak, this is my boyfriend, Rochlan North.”

He
tsks
at Hope. “How many times? It’s Damon to Mara’s friends.” We shake hands. “Good to meet you, Mr. North. My wife tells me you take good care of Hope.”

Interesting.

“I do my best. She’s a stubborn one.”

Damon snorts. “I feel your pain,” he says with a nod at Mara.

“Hey!” both girls protest. Damon kisses the top of Mara’s head. By the possessive way he holds onto her, I get the feeling Mara is the friend who gets the spankings in the group. From what Hope’s told me, one of her friends is rather kinky, and I’m mildly amused to find out it’s the judge and his wholesome-looking wife.

This party just got a whole lot more interesting.

“Thanks for coming.” Damon leans in to Hope. “I appreciate you being here. You know how much Mara hates these things.”

Hope grins. “No problem. Go. Mingle. Raise money.”

With another thank you, he walks away to socialize with some other guests. Mara stays put. Suddenly her eyes widen as she focuses on something behind us. “Looks like our firecracker is here.”

Hope and I turn to see Sophie strutting in with Ross. Firecracker is a good way to describe her. Tight, bright pink dress bordering the edge of classy and…not so classy. Sky-high heels and long curly hair. She fixes her dark blue eyes on us and drags Ross in our direction.

“Where’s the champagne?” is the first thing she asks. Mara points her in the right direction, and Sophie stomps over without even saying hello.

Ross shakes my hand. “Hey, date stealer.”

I huff out a laugh. “Looks like you made a nice recovery.”

“Yeah, going to have my hands full with her for sure.”

“What’s wrong with her tonight?” Hope asks.

Ross shakes his head. “Got me.”

Sophie returns fisting two champagne glasses. She eyes me up and down, then shoots Hope a glare. “I’m so fucking jealous you managed to get your man in a suit and drag him down here.”

A flash of guilt crosses Hope’s face, and I squeeze her hand. “I offered to join her, Sophie.”

Her eyes widen in surprise, but she only answers with, “Looking good, Rock.”

“Did you
ask
Jonny?” Mara asks.

“Fuck, no. He would hate this,” she answers, while throwing me another questioning look.

The girls cluster together and start talking in hushed tones. Ross and I make small talk. He’s actually kind of funny, so I don’t mind being shut out of the girl-talk. Adam and his date join us, and it’s a regular sausage fest.

After two glasses of wine, my girl’s eyes are glazed, her cheeks flushed, and she’s giggling louder than normal. As I slip my hand around her waist, she leans into me. Tipping her head up, a soft smile spreads over her face. “Thank you for this.”

“No problem, baby doll.”

“We can get going soon.”

“I’m fine.” And I am. I haven’t broken out in hives yet. Or wanted to throat punch anyone. Hope’s friends are actually down to earth and easy to talk to. We don’t mingle much with anyone else, and that suits me just fine.

Our attention is redirected to the middle of the room, where an out-of-control Sophie has taken to the dance floor. She’s pulled a mild-looking attorney with her, who seems to be surprised to find himself dancing with such a hot chick.

“Uh, should we do something about that?” Ross asks.

“She’ll calm down. If we bug her, it will make it worse,” Mara answers, but she doesn’t look totally convinced. I can’t imagine how awkward this is to have her friend behaving like a drunk sorority girl at her husband’s stuffy event.

After a song or two, Sophie does tone it down, although it’s still pretty obvious she’s drunk off her ass. Hope’s invested in her conversation with another young, female attorney who joined their group, so I take the opportunity to duck in the men’s room.

As soon as I step out, I spot Sophie holding up the wall across from the bathrooms.

“You okay, Soph?”

She doesn’t seem surprised to see me. “You look really good tonight, Rock.”

And my danger radar starts pinging like crazy.

“Thanks. You need help getting back to the group?”

She sort of nods, then lurches away from the wall, stumbling against me. She’s a slight thing, so the impact barely registers, but I’m not comfortable having one of Hope’s best friends plastered to the front of my body either.

Especially when she reaches down and tries to squeeze my dick.

Jerking out of her reach, I grab both her wrists in one hand. “Sophie, you’re drunk.”

“I know. But you’re hot. I’m hot—”

I cut that nonsense off right away. “Sophie, you’re one of Hope’s best friends.”

She makes this mmmmmm noise. “Hope’s a good girl, Rock. I’m a dirty girl. I know you like dirty girls better.”

Jesus Christ, this is going to shit fast. For the first time in a long time, I don’t know what to do. I’m used to drunken scenes like this at the clubhouse. But that’s my domain, and I can handle it my way. Here, I don’t know what the fuck to do. If it was some random woman, I’d brush her off and walk away. But it’s Hope’s best friend, so I’m torn. Part of me wants to help her find Ross, and part of me wants to strangle her.

“Come on, let’s go find Ross,” I say, giving her a tug toward the party. I wish it wasn’t so fucking isolated back here. Is it too much to ask for someone to interrupt this cozy little nightmare?

“I don’t wanna,” she answers, sounding all of five years old. “Kiss me.”

Thankfully she’s so short, even in her heels she can’t reach my face, although she makes a drunken effort to climb my body. Pushing her off me and finally untangling myself, I decide to get the fuck away from Sophie. Yeah, I feel bad about it, but every second I let this go on, the potential for Hope to get hurt increases.

As soon as I reach the guys, I tap Ross. “Sophie’s back by the bathroom in a bad way.”

“Aw, shit. Thanks, man.” He pats me on the shoulder and takes off after Sophie. At least that’s taken care of and she’s not alone.

Hope spots me and flashes a smile before turning back to her conversation. Fuck. I don’t know what the fuck to do. Do I tell Hope and risk blowing up her friendship with Sophie, who might not even remember what happened tomorrow? I’m not worried about myself—I sure as fuck didn’t do anything wrong. What I am worried about is my girl getting hurt. Up until now, Sophie’s always been a good friend to Hope. I don’t want to be the one who ruins their relationship.

As if she hears my worried thoughts, Hope presses against my side. “How are you?”

Wrapping my arm around her waist, I hug her tight to me. I think she mistakes the gesture for something else. Throaty laughter bubbles out of her and she gives me
that look
. The one that says she wants to jump my bones but is too shy to make the first move.

Suddenly the last thing I’m thinking about is Sophie’s drama.

The urge to tug Rock into a dark corner and wrap my body around him throbbed through me all evening. Only the fact that we were socializing with my colleagues kept my hands and legs to myself.

Opening my front door earlier to find him in a suit and a smile set my body buzzing. I found Rock hard to resist on a regular basis, but there was something about my big, bad “I don’t wear suits” biker decked out in a classic, charcoal gray, wool blend. The crisp, white shirt and royal blue tie emphasized his slate eyes. The simple cut of the jacket stretched across his broad shoulders impeccably, accentuating his powerful build. I wondered where he’d found the time to have something so expertly tailored to him this week.

I’m not sure what I expected him to wear, but this surpasses anything my imagination conjured up. Every inch of him radiates power.

When we finally say our goodbyes, Rock takes my arm to keep me steady. The two small glasses of wine went straight to my head, and he seems to sense it.

As we stand on the sidewalk outside waiting for his SUV, I tug on his sleeve.

Stretching up on my toes so I can whisper in his ear, I ask, “Have I told you how sexy you look tonight?”

I punctuate the compliment by flicking my tongue over his earlobe. I’m close enough to feel the shudder that works through him.

“Careful, counselor.” He leans down and brushes his lips against my cheek. A warm shiver works down my neck, stirring up memories of his sinful mouth on other parts of my body.

My arms encircle his neck, fingers lacing together to pull him to me.

Then the valet drives up with the car, spoiling my fun.

Amusement sparks in his gray eyes. “Get your sexy ass in the car, baby doll. I’ve got plans for you.”

We don’t get far before Rock pulls over. Reaching below, he sends his seat all the way back.

“Come here.”

I eye his lap, the distance to get over there, and then assess the constraints of my dress.

“I don’t think I can.”

“Hike that skirt up and haul your sweet little ass over here. Don’t make me ask again.”

The next moment, he tugs me across his lap. Firm lips on mine, kissing me. Breathing in his scent makes me a little giddy. I kiss him back as if I’ll go crazy if I don’t get enough. His hands slide over my thighs, pushing my skirt up so I can straddle him.

Weaving his fingers through my hair, he tilts my head back and kisses my neck. His lips move up to my chin and then our mouths slide together.

“What do you want, Rock?”

His lips travel down, soft sucking kisses and licks trailing along my neck and over my collarbone.

“I want my cock in your pussy, fucking you so damn deep, baby.”

“Right now?”

“Right fucking now.”

I draw back to see his eyes. Even in the dark interior, his hunger for me is obvious. My hands run down his chest, over the dress shirt hiding hard muscles.

His hand catches my wrist. “No time, baby doll. Quick and dirty.”

My fingers move down to work his belt and slide down his zipper. His hands cup my face, lips press hard against mine. I reach in to free his cock and he groans, a sexy erotic sound that vibrates against my jaw. He’s hard and hot in my hands as I slide my fist up and down his length.

“Fuck, Hope. You’re killing me.”

A devious little laugh I didn’t even know I was capable of escapes me.