Big Shot(34)

After a while, Jackson stood up in front of everyone with Tara by his side, stating he’d like everyone’s attention. The guests in the backyard grew quiet, and Wes was surprised when Natalie came up beside him and slipped her arm into his as if she belonged there. As if it was the most natural thing in the world to be so . . . intimate with him in public.

As a standard rule, he didn’t like clingy women—females who overstepped their boundaries or tried to cozy up to him outside of the bedroom. He didn’t hold hands, and he didn’t invite public displays of affection because it sent signals to the woman that they were an item and that she belonged to him when she really didn’t. It was a perception he steadfastly avoided because it led to awkward misunderstandings in terms of their affair.

But having Natalie lightly curl her arm around his and press up against his side made him feel . . . protective of her. And a little possessive, too. It made his pulse pound with awareness, and when he glanced at her and she smiled at him in such a soft, sweet manner, all he could think about was how much he enjoyed being with her when they weren’t trying to one-up each other. And how much he wanted her. How badly he ached to hear her soft moans of bliss when he sank deep inside her. How desperate he suddenly was to get her alone so he could slake this constant desire she aroused in him.

“Hey,” he said, his voice lower and huskier than he’d intended. “Are you having a good time?”

“Yes,” she replied with a genuine nod of pleasure. “Everyone here is so nice and friendly.”

“Good.” He slid his arm around her waist and pulled her even closer to his side, not questioning something that felt so right in the moment. She blinked up at him in surprise, but she didn’t protest or pull away.

The sound of Jackson’s voice redirected their attention to the other man.

“So, first of all, I want to thank everyone for being here today,” he said, his statement genuinely heartfelt. “And I have to tell you that Tara gave me the best gift I could ever ask for on my birthday,” he began, but his smartass brother, Mason, cut him off.

“She’s going to finally release that ball and chain?” he called out.

Tara gave Mason a mock glare, and Jackson didn’t hesitate to flip his brother off, which made most everyone laugh.

Then Jackson grinned. “No, she’s pregnant and I’m going to be a dad.”

The women in the area gasped in delight, and Wes even heard Natalie release a soft little sigh that he would have sworn was laced with envy. The guys congratulated Jackson, and a round of shots was poured to celebrate.

“I’m going to head over to the dessert table,” Natalie said to Wes. “Samantha said she made everything, and those lemon cupcakes are calling my name.”

“Okay. I’ll be done here in a sec.” Wes didn’t want to be rude since someone had already put a shot glass of liquor into his hands. Clearly, he was expected to partake in the upcoming toast to Jackson’s impending fatherhood.

Fifteen minutes later, he went in search of Natalie and found her sitting at one of the many tables that had been set up for the guests out in the yard. She was off to the side in an area that wasn’t well lit, and she was all alone, but she smiled when she saw him coming.

He sat down in the folding chair next to hers, facing her, his back to the deck, where everyone else was hanging out. “What are you doing out here by yourself?”

“Just watching everything going on.”

There was something emotional in her eyes, a longing he didn’t address because he didn’t know what to say, and he certainly had no reassurances for her. So, instead, he turned the conversation to a topic that was much safer, for both of them.

“How’s the cupcake?” he asked as she picked up the last little section left on her plate with her fingers.

“Absolutely amazing. This is my second one,” she admitted guiltily, and winced in chagrin for indulging. “Please take the last bite.”

He grinned wickedly. “You gonna feed it to me?”

“Are you sure you want me to do that?” She flashed him a playful smile.

She didn’t wait for his answer. Instead, she automatically lifted the dessert toward him, the devious look in her eyes warning Wes that he was most likely going to end up with cake and frosting smeared across his face.

Grabbing her wrist before she could reach him, he took control and turned things around on her. He brought her hand to his parted lips and pushed her fingers—and the bite of cupcake—into his mouth. He ate the lemony dessert, moaning in agreement with just how delicious it was. But he didn’t let go of her wrist. Instead, he licked the sticky remnants of frosting from her fingers and nibbled on the tips before sucking two deep into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around the lengths then slowly pulled them back out again.

She groaned softly in the back of her throat. “You’re giving me dirty ideas about what I’d like to do to you.”

He liked the way that sounded. A lot. “Ummm . . . let me give you a few more,” he murmured, and proceeded to slide her fingers in and out of his mouth, deliberately putting a whole slew of suggestive imagines into her head.

Her breathing quickly escalated. Her lashes fell half-mast, and her eyes flickered with unmistakable lust. “Oh, God . . .you need to stop.”

Leisurely, he pulled her fingers from his mouth but didn’t release her hand just yet. “Don’t you want to know what I’m going to do with you when I get you alone?”