Between Commitment and Betrayal (Hardy Billionaire Brothers, #1)(91)

“It’s for charity, Declan. We’re giving kids a future in sports and athletics that otherwise wouldn’t get one.” She folded her arms close to her chest. “You didn’t have to be the one to bid on me.”

She thought this was about the money. “Oh, I had to bid on you.”

“Why?” She shivered as a gust of night wind blew past.

Already, I’d begun to unbutton my suit jacket. “You’re my wife. Everyone in that room knows it.”

“Right. Well, it’ll be amazing for the kids, but it’s not like we’re going to be married long anyway because—”

“Do you think my bid was for charity, Everly?” I cut her off as I stepped forward, my anger at her words licking through me fast.

She tilted her head in confusion. She didn’t get it yet. “Well, all of them are somewhat for charity.”

Maybe it should have been. But it wasn’t. This wasn’t about my ego either. This wasn’t about embarrassment. This was about her and me. This was about the raindrop that turned into a catastrophic storm, drowning me in thoughts of her.

I held her gaze hostage as I slid my suit jacket off my shoulders and threw it over one arm, taking my time rolling up my cuffs, one fold at a time. Neither of us said a word. The only sound was the violins from inside as she licked those red lips, watching me.

Then I stepped forward, and she gasped, but the heat rose over her cleavage and her pupils dilated. The woman’s body knew how to react to mine even if she couldn’t read what I exactly wanted. Her body knew I was coming for her, that I was about to devour and take what I wanted.

I wrapped her in my jacket and pulled her close by the lapels. “Dance with me.”

The stars glittered in her eyes as I saw the same turmoil I felt deep in her soul. She had to feel this, the pull between us and the mindfuck we were dealing with. How was I supposed to let her go if she didn’t want a child? How was I supposed to be fine having a child with her when I knew she didn’t want one with a man she didn’t love?

How was I supposed to give her everything when the will stood in the way, tainting it all? I couldn’t tell her this was for real, couldn’t force her into this when I knew that she deserved better than all of it.

She tried to step away, but I held her there. “Declan, let’s go back inside.”

“No, Drop. I’m getting my dance with you. Here in this garden. Tonight. With just the moonlight and my touch on your skin.” I pulled her through a bit of the maze of the garden so no one could see us and then my hand disappeared under my jacket where it found the small of her back. I felt the goose bumps there as I pressed my palm flat to nudge her forward.

She stumbled into my hold, and I took her other hand. It was small in mine, fitting perfectly where it was supposed to be. She gulped as she felt my length against her, hard and throbbing for her like it had been most of the night.

And then I spun her, wanting this dance with her even if it meant denying my desire to fuck her right then too. I pulled her back, and we fell into step with each other as the violins built to the backdrop of our night.

I should have let her go back up those stairs, I shouldn’t have spoiled myself with a dance while the smell of her swirled around me, with her breath on my chest as she folded into me as our souls mingled together and clung to one another.

It may have been wrong, but her with me felt so fucking right. “That bid wasn’t about charity. It was about this. About knowing no one belongs here with you but me. I’ve had you twice outside in the night, I’ve looked into your eyes and seen a darkness you harbor that only I want to witness and soothe and bring light to. Why do you think I’d ever give another man that privilege?”

“Declan, it was just a dance.”

“It’s not just anything with you. It’s everything. It’s my wife in another man’s arms, it’s her skin feeling his touch, it’s her conversation and intelligence being shared. What would you have talked about?”

“Probably the kids we were helping,” she said softly, trying to soothe me. She even ran her hand along my chest as we swayed in the wind.

“He’d have seen the love in your eyes as you talked about those children. You’d share your kindness, your passion with him. Not me. And I don’t want you to share anything with anyone.”

She murmured my name in chastisement, but I didn’t let her finish. My name dripping from her lips was enough to push me over the edge. I took them against mine and kissed her like I should have at the beginning of the night when I’d seen the red painted on them as soon as she came out of her room with my sister. She’d stunned me into silence as she smiled at everyone earlier that night, and my brother-in-law beat me to the punch of complimenting her.

Now, my hands roved over her body, trying to memorize every stunning part of her. I threaded my fingers through her hair, then brushed them over her collarbone, over her breasts, over all the curves of her body until I gripped her ass as I walked her backwards so she was up against the garden wall.

Everly may have wanted to go inside, but as my hand found the slit of her dress and slid into her panties, and she gasped. “You know, Everly, even if I wasn’t your husband, you’re mine and your pussy has proven that time and time again. How long have you been wet for me? All night?”

She bit her lip and rode my hand, her hips rocking back and forth, her arousal coating my fingers well enough that when I thrust them into her, there was barely resistance. “I wish I could stop you, Declan. I wish I could just say this is ridiculous and be done.” She whimpered.