“Is it too late to ask what your name is?” I hedged on a wince.
I swear I could actually hear his smile. And it was smug. So damn smug. “I will gladly tell you my name, yellow Power Ranger,” he answered, his voice going low and seductive. “If you tell me I’m right.”
“Right?” Now what was he talking about? “Right about what?”
“The relationship between you and Carmichael,” he pressed. “Tell me you two are just friends.”
Oh gosh. This conversation was definitely headed in one direction, and I was actually excited for it to go that way. I’d met this man minutes ago, literally minutes ago, and I already wanted hot, delicious, sweaty things with him. That was so unlike me.
Yet, I didn’t even care.
“Yes,” I blurted out, a bit breathlessly. “We’re just… I mean, Brick. He’s like, you know, a brother to me. There’s nothing romantic there at all.”
Maleficent nodded. “Good.” He sounded pleased and expectant. “I figured that was the case, especially when you started flirting with the older Carmichael at the snack table as soon as Broderick walked away.”
“What?” My lust-induced haze fizzled. Setting my hands on my hips, I scowled. “Excuse me? I did not flirt with Hayden.”
“You gave him a cookie,” he challenged softly.
“Um, yeah. So?” What did that have to do with anything?
“I was jealous,” Maleficent admitted. He moved closer. Seductively closer. “You seemed so sweet and kind when you insisted he take it. I wanted you to give me a cookie the way you’d given him one.”
“Uh...” I swallowed before licking my suddenly dry lips. “Oh.”
Yeah, that’s all I had. Oh. The man had successfully stolen all brain function from me, filling me with delicious shivers, and all I had left in my arsenal was a freaking lame oh.
He leaned in confidentially closer, smelling like temptation incarnate. “Can I confess something to you?”
“Uh…” Dammit. I seriously needed to come up with other words besides uh and oh. “Didn’t you just confess something?”
“Yeah, but this one’s worse than mere jealousy.”
“Worse? Really?” I moved closer to him, nearly licking my lips with how nice this all felt. “Tell me.”
“Promise you won’t get mad first.”
I laughed. “No way. I reserve the right to get mad about anything I want.”
“Damn.” He let out am impressed whistle. “That should make me not want to tell you, but I really liked that answer, so now I think I have to tell you.”
“You do. You definitely do,” I agreed, grinning, just as I realized I was leaning toward him as much as he was leaning toward me. “If you don’t tell me, I won’t give you your second shoe back.”
“Well, we can’t have that.” With a chuckle, he once again reached for the stray lock of hair by my left ear. Running it between his fingers, he gave a long, dramatic sigh. “So I guess I must confess that I objectified you when you entered the ballroom earlier with Carmichael. I’m a total ass man, you see, and yours…” He let out a low whistle as he dropped my hair from between his fingers and took a step back. “It looks really good in yellow spandex. I got a little obsessed with watching you wherever you went. In fact, I came out here to cool off because I was worried I was staring too much. Then, lo and behold, there you appeared in the doorway. Like something had beckoned you to me.”
My lips parted with awe. “Wow,” I whispered. “Sounds like some serious evil maleficent work in action, there.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of good magic,” he said, glancing toward the Marcella statue.
I glanced toward my mother as well. The moon glinted off her raised hands as if she might be summoning some kind of supernatural power. The good kind.
“So?” Maleficent asked. “Are you mad?”
Mad? How could I be mad about something so good and magical bringing us together?
Oh, wait, yeah. Mad because he’d objectified and ogled my butt. Well…
I guess I probably should be. But I wasn’t. I wasn’t even a smidgen uncomfortable by it, not like the way I’d been when Christopher had looked at my breasts, or you know, when I thought he’d been looking at my breasts but had only been checking out my stained shirt.
“I think I’m actually flattered. There were a lot of really slinky costumes tonight. A slutty nurse, slutty Minnie Mouse, slutty pirate. They all certainly had a lot more cleavage and leg showing than I do. But you saw little ol’ me, the Power Ranger.”
He laughed and reached for my piece of hair again. “Were there other women in the ballroom? Hmm. Didn’t notice.”
I grinned even as I rolled my eyes, though he probably couldn’t see the move. I was about to tell him his sucking up to get in good with me was pathetic, even though I actually liked it, but he spoke again.
“You stared after him when he walked away.”
“What?”
Seriously, it was hard to follow his thought process sometimes. He jumped from topic to topic without warning. Except I liked that too. He had quirks, just like I did. Plus, it kept me guessing and on my toes. Interested.
“Hayden Carmichael,” he explained. “You watched him walk away with the cookie you gave him. Like you might be interested in him.”
“Trust me, I’m not.” I laughed, amused as much as I was flustered. He was kind of like a dog with a bone when he wanted information. It was as endearing as it was aggravating. “Not the way you think. I was just happy I got him to smile. You might not know this about Hayden, but he doesn’t smile often.”
“So… No flirting there, then,” Maleficent surmised with an approving nod.
“No.” I rolled my eyes. “Geez. If you think that was me flirting, you seriously need to learn a few things, buddy.”
“You’re right,” he murmured, moving in closer. So close. “I suck at flirting. I’m much better at just plain kissing.”
And he swept his mouth against mine.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The initial shock of Maleficent’s lips claiming mine left me briefly paralyzed.
At first, I was like… What the…? I’m being kissed.
Then I was like… Holy wow, I’m being kissed well.
After that, it was all just… Mmm. Nice.
His lips were warm and soft, more of a tease than a true caress, as if he were testing the waters to make sure I wanted it too. I found myself closing my eyes and swaying toward him, cupping his face between my hands and delighting in the texture of his jaw against my fingers. He was clean-shaven and yet still sandpaper rough.
After exerting the slightest amount of pressure, making me whimper for more, he drew himself away, sucking in a soft, satisfied hiss as he went. “Damn,” he murmured.
Exactly.
I felt dizzy and bereft when his heat and intoxicating smell left me. I wanted him back.
“That was…” I shook my head and tried to recapture my equilibrium. “That was…”
“Not enough,” he finished for me before coming in for more and drowning me back under.
The next kiss wasn’t quite as soft. A little more demanding, a little more urgent, he slid four fingers around the back of my neck while his thumb traced my jaw. His mouth opened and tongue sought mine. I met him lick for lick, greedy for another round.
A groan rumbled from his throat, one part tortured, three parts gratified. “Jesus, you’re perfect. You are so perfect.” His palms slipped around my backside and cupped me before squeezing firmly. “Way too perfect.”
The praise made me feel powerful. Delicious. I needed more of this.
A little too eager, I lifted onto my toes, trying to get closer to him. My chest bumped into his and whatever he had packed into his fake breasts was some sturdy stuff. The firm, unrelenting protrusions caught me off guard, and I started to stumble backward, but his hand slipped around the base of my spine, catching me back to him.
His fake breasts bump
ed into my real ones once more.
A laugh blurted from me.
He pulled back, sounding amused. “What?”
“Your boobs,” I tried to explain through the giggles. I slapped my hands over my mouth, mortified about being unable to keep my cool. But holy hell, it had felt as if we’d been having a titty war, and his knockers had kicked mine’s ass. Seriously, I might have a bruise developing on my left breast. “Ouch.”
“Oh shit.” He slapped his hands over his chest, cupping his offensive bosom. “I forgot all about those.”
“They surprised me,” I admitted.
“I’ll bet.” Then he hissed out a breath before admitting, “This is slightly awkward.” A second later, he shoved them up. “Oh. That’s better. They’d fallen down some.” Rolling his shoulders until he was even more comfortable, he added, “I'm starting to realize why you women value bras so much.”
I blurted out another laugh and couldn't seem to stop. “Oh my God.” Tears slid down my cheeks. As I clutched my aching abdomen, already sore from laughing so hard, I bent at the waist and rested my hands on my knees. “This has got to be the strangest encounter I’ve ever had with anyone.”
“You can say that again.” Maleficent chuckled along with me, his head shaking slowly.
“I'm serious,” I said, wiping my tears off my face and straightening to face him. “I mean, have you ever done anything remotely like this before?”
“What?” he asked, making himself sound clueless before he added, “Made out with someone I just met twenty minutes ago, or put the moves on a complete stranger while wearing a dress and fake breasts? Yeah, no. Both are firsts for me too. But I gotta say, sharing them with you has been… Nice.” He stepped toward me, turning serious. “It's been downright amazing, actually.”
The low timbre of his voice made my hormones shudder with wicked delight.
“Yeah,” I murmured before I could check myself. Oh hell, what was I admitting? Should I let him know how much he affected me?
Then I decided, yes, I definitely should right about the time he sucked in a breath and wrapped his fingers around the back of my neck, the touch warm and persuasive.
Tipping his head forward, he pressed our brows together. “Do we have to stop yet?”
I swear, my restraint around this guy was non-existent. I heard myself telling him, “No,” before I could even rationally think up a good, sturdy rejection. “I hope not.”
“Thank God.”
With a moan of pleasure, he smashed his mouth back to mine and thrust his tongue between my teeth. The kiss became primal. Savage. I climbed him, and he helped hoist me up by gripping my ass again and then backing me into a tree. When my spine met bark, I wound my legs around his narrow waist before he ground against me and twined his tongue with mine.
Nothing existed but his mouth, his body, his smell which drugged me into forgetting everything else. It was surreal and yet the most vividly real thing I’d ever experienced.
When he came up for air, I panted and clung to him, dizzy with need.
He kept me protectively cuddled against the trunk of the tree as he whispered his lips across my cheekbone to my ear. “You’re shaking. I can’t see your expression. Are you doing okay? Do you want me to stop?”
“I don’t…” No, I didn’t want to stop, but what I said was, “I don’t know.” I hid my face in the crook of his neck, seeking comfort as much as I escaped reality. “My head is spinning. This is crazy. This is just so crazy.”
He pressed his lips to my temple. “Trust me, I know.”
“I mean, oh my God, I don't even know your name,” I went on, blurting out my panic that was beginning to grow now that his lips were off mine and he was making me think rationally. “Or what your face looks like. Or—”
“Shh. It’s okay. I know.” He traced my cheek tenderly with his nose before tucking my stray piece of hair behind my ear. “This is definitely wild and unexpected, I agree.” His touch was extremely gentle and feather-light as if he were trying to figure out what I looked like from feel alone. “But at least learning names and faces is one thing we can fix. Here…”
After finding my hand, he wound our fingers together and tugged me away from the tree before starting through the courtyard and leading me away.
“What…” I shook my head even as I followed him willingly. “Where’re we going?”
“I want to see your face too. And learn who you are. So I’m taking you inside. Where there’s light. We can introduce ourselves to each other there.”
But instead of calming me, that idea only ratcheted the anxiety even more. “What? No!” I skidded to a halt, making him stop as well.
“What?” He turned to me, his confusion oozing through the dark. “Why not?”
“Because...” I started, not sure how to explain myself, because seriously, why not? I didn’t exactly know why not. I just knew I was suddenly nervous. “What if… What if…” There were too many variables to list, I ended up blurting out the most embarrassing and vain fear I had. “What if you don't like what you see? I mean, I could be hideously disfigured, or something?”
My hair had to be horribly matted after wearing it under the Power Ranger helmet mask—which I’d totally lost during all the kissing—and I’d put zero makeup on before leaving the house, and geesh, I had the tiniest gap between my two front teeth. My dad had always talked about how cute it was, but what if it turned this guy off?
What if he thought I was—
“Hey.” His voice was soft and reassuring as he drifted the backs of his fingers over my cheek. “Don’t worry. My sister’s disfigured, and she’s one of the most beautiful people I know. I’m not out to judge, I’m just curious. Aren’t you curious?”
Oh Lord, that was the most perfect answer I think a person could ever give. Something inside me melted. I wanted to impress him even more now. And so my apprehensions rose. But I ended up nodding. “Yes, I’m curious too,” all the while silently begging, please like what you see, please like what you see, as he once again towed me toward the light of the open door.
We cleared the bushes and then there was nothing but an open expanse of asphalt between us and the truth. If I looked up at him now, I’d be able to see the features of his face.
Fear made me stare fixedly straight ahead and not up to him. “What if someone else is in the hallway?” I asked. I wasn’t exactly ready to stop what we’d started in the courtyard. But other people would totally put a damper on the situation.
“We can go to my office for privacy if you want,” he assured. “I just need to see you.”
I began to nod, even as he tugged me through the doorway. But then my brow knit with confusion.
“Wait. Office?” I repeated. “You have your own office? Are you a department head?”
I swore, only department heads had their own office at JFI. The company was split into eight departments: Dresses, Shirts, Pants, Jackets, Belts, Shoes, Undergarments, and Purses. Lana headed Dresses, my stepbrothers got Shoes and Purses, and Jackets went to Nash, which left four departments heads after that, two of which were run by women, one an older married man, and then finally a man who was so short he was barely five feet high (definitely not this guy).
So then, who—
“I’m not just a department head,” Maleficent said as he stopped barely inside the building and turned to face me. “I’m—”
“Nash.”
The word gasped from me as shock spiraled through my extremities.
“Oh my God. You’re Nash. You’re Nash-Nash.”
He was barely recognizable. The headpiece, making up the horns of his costume, gave him a widow’s peak he normally didn’t have and transformed the angular shape of his face into something more oval. His deep-red lipstick was smeared, probably from kissing me, also altering his appearance. And he wore dark purple eyeshadow, coated all the way up to his eyebrows—eyebrows that had been painted black to put an emphasized arch in them. Yet I knew exactly who he
was.
Ezra Nash.
The co-CEO of my father’s company. The Nash my stepmother wanted to claim as her boy toy. The Nash who strode down the halls of JFI in intimidating, yet super-hot business suits, giving me the impression no one ever touched him or joked with him or certainly kissed him while he wore a dress. The very Nash I wanted to buy out someday so I could take back my namesake of a company from.
Oh Lord. This wouldn’t do. This wouldn’t do at all.
I went into hyper-distress.
Lana would literally murder me if she found out I had put my mouth on the very guy she was interested in. She would make my entire life a living hell. Heck, she already made my life a living hell, and she didn’t even have a valid reason.
If she had this reason, she’d—
I shuddered, too worried to even think about the possibilities.
She could never find out about this.
Ergo, he couldn’t find out who I was.
Ergo, I had to leave before he tempted my name from me.
Ergo—oh shit.
He lifted his painted eyebrows. “You know who I am.”
“Uh.” I gulped and hedged a step in reverse. I needed to get out of here. Like now. Like thirty seconds ago. “Yeah. You’re Nash,” I told him uneasily. “One of the CEOs of JFI, head of the Jackets department, son of entrepreneur Henry Nash.” After a nervous laugh, I waved a greeting even as I took another step backward. “Everyone knows who you are.” Clearing my throat, I started to turn away. “I should go.”
“Go? No, wait!”
He leapt forward and caught my wrist, stilling me. Panic filled my veins. But when I looked up at him from wide, worried eyes, he didn’t seem mad. He actually laughed out his confusion and shook his head.
“The dress didn’t scare you off, but my name is? Why? Who are you? I know we’ve never met before. I would definitely remember a face this amazing.”
He thought my face was amazing? Oh man. That was awesome.
I gulped and shook my head, my will against him faltering.