I tried to play it cool and act like the guy who had his shit together. But seeing Echo was like a punch to the gut. My reaction was that physical. It threw me off-balance, and I had to take a moment.
I kept my eyes on her. Some Hollywood wannabe was hanging off her, trying to get her attention, and that pulled at something in me. Something primal. I wanted to pound my chest like fucking Tarzan and drag her off to some dark corner where we could do all the things I’d been thinking of since the cabin.
Someone tugged on my arm and, pissed off, I turned to the woman in question. Angie? Angel? I had no idea who she was other than a model I’d banged last time I’d been to New York. She’d pretty much been glued to my side since I’d arrived. Malcolm said he’d take her off my hands, but he disappeared about fifteen minutes ago, and I had no idea where he was.
Wingman my ass.
By the time I extricated myself from Anita, Echo was gone.
Fuck. Me.
The place was huge, and there had to be at least one thousand bodies packed inside. I spotted Lyric near the bar and headed in her direction, ignoring those who called my name or tried to get my attention.
She was surprised to see me, no way she could hide that, and I scooped her into a big hug, genuinely happy to see her face. I set her back down and drank her in. Man, she looked a hell of a lot different from the Lyric I was used to. I guess my expression said what I was thinking, because she blushed and shrugged.
“Echo’s glam squad caught me at a weak moment.”
“You look gorgeous as hell.” I gave her one more hug and caught sight of Malcolm a few feet away. I motioned him over and introduced him to Echo’s sister.
Lyric shook his hand and blushed when Malcolm was slow to release it. I gave him a look that said back the hell off, and with a grin, he did just that. She turned to me, and I saw the question before she asked it.
“Echo doesn’t know you’re here.”
“She does now,” I replied. “I just saw her, but she disappeared before I had a chance to speak to her.”
Lyric was silent for all of two seconds. “And what is it that you need to say to her?”
I hid a grin. The youngest Mansfield had always been shy, the kind of kid who liked to hide in the background and wouldn’t speak unless spoken to. But this here version, well, she was all grown up, and though she hadn’t lost that hint of innocence she’d always had, she sure as hell was a lot more confident.
I liked this new version.
“We’ve got some unfinished business.”
“Are you going to hurt her?”
I was annoyed she’d even ask something like that. But based on our history, I got it.
“No.”
She seemed to consider my answer and then, after accepting a tall glass of champagne from a passing waiter, motioned for me to follow.
“You got this?” Malcolm asked. “I think your pal Anita needs some attention. I can’t stand the sight of that there pout. She looks like a goddamn blowfish. I might have to do something about it.”
“Have at it.” Malcolm was a horn dog, and I was pretty sure that blowfish pout would be wrapped around his cock before the night was done.
I followed Lyric through the crowd and up the stairs to the right. We kept going until we reached the upper balcony, where there was another bar but the crowd was significantly lighter. I spotted Echo at about the same time I saw her ex, Aiden, stumble up to her.
“That’s not good,” Lyric said, coming to a full stop. “He’s a bad drunk.”
“Don’t worry, I got this.”
“Just remember, it’s a charity thing, Boyd.” Her voice rang in my ears as I pushed my way through the crowd. When I finally reached Echo, I could see the two of them were already getting into it. Asshole Aiden kept trying to grab her arm, but the guy was so loaded, she easily kept out of his reach. They both looked up when I planted myself inches away.
“Are you okay?” I asked, watching the play of emotion run across her face. This girl had a hard time keeping her stuff inside. It was one of the things I liked about her. She nodded slowly.
“He’s really drunk,” I said quietly.
“I can handle Aiden.”
She smelled as good as she looked, and I took another step forward, but Aiden got in my face.
“Thissa private con…a conversation, asshoe.” His words came out slurred, he hardly made sense, and the glassy eyes told me he was on more than just booze.
“Why don’t you move away from Echo and get your shit together.” I kept my voice light, but I was itching for the bastard to do something—anything—to set me off.
“Why don’t you fuck off?” His face scrunched up, and he tried to chest bump me, but missed by several inches. I caught him, or he would have ended up on his ass.
“I’m doing you a favor by giving you a choice. Leave now on your own, or I’ll kick your ass out.”
“I like ta see ya try.”
The thing about drunk and stoned douchebags is that they have an inflated sense of what they can do. I had about six inches and at least fifty pounds on the guy, and he thought he could go toe to toe?
“Aiden, just leave.” Echo yanked on his arm, and he reacted by taking a swing at her. I caught him before he made contact, which was lucky for him because I would have flattened the asshole if he’d touched her. Security showed up just in time, and I handed him off.
We’d attracted more attention than I wanted, so I grabbed Echo’s hand and led her to the shadows that draped the far corner balcony. It was dark, and no one could see us here.
“Can we talk?” I asked.
“Why?” she asked, watching me intently.
“Do I need to spell it out?”
She looked at the floor. Then over my shoulder. At the ceiling.
She was looking everywhere except at me. I slid my hand along her jaw and gently applied enough pressure so she had no choice but to look up. And there it was again. That punch to the gut.
I smiled. I couldn’t help myself.
After a few moments, she sighed, though her eyes were closed off and her body language was all wrong. “Why are you here, Boyd?”
“I have a soft spot for cats.”
“I would have pegged you as a dog man.”
“Nope. I’m all about the felines.”
“You drove to New York because you like cats.” Her eyes narrowed.
“Flew.”
“What?”
“I was at the farm in Tennessee. I flew.”
“Okay, you flew all the way to New York City because you like cats?”
“I flew all the way to New York City because I can’t stop thinking about you.” Bingo. Her eyes widened, and that delicious tongue of hers slipped out and licked at the corner of her mouth.
“Thought I’d write a big fat check while I was here.”
“Because you like cats.”
“Because I like cats.” I dipped my head, my mouth seeking that sweet spot just below her ear. “Because I like you.”
I heard her breath catch and couldn’t help myself. I sank my hands into all that hair and, before she could say a word, claimed the mouth that had haunted me for the last week. She opened up for me, and I took control, my body hungry for more.
Her lips were soft, and she tasted like strawberries. With a groan, I went deep, my tongue seeking out the secrets she kept, my teeth nipping at her bottom lip. She gave as good as she got, her hands on me, her body pressed as close as two people could be, and that tongue dancing with mine. The kiss was hot and passionate and wild.
When we finally broke away from each other, both of us were breathing heavily. I held on, though, my hands still buried in the silky hair that floated around her shoulders.
“Let’s get out of here,” I said, sounding a little bit rough and a whole lot horny.
“I can’t.” She licked her lips and shook her head. “We can’t…”
I looked her in the eye, not in the mood for games. I knew she felt exactly the same as I did, and I knew this fire was only going to burn brighter and hotter the longer we did this dance.
“This is going to happen. You and me.” I pushed her up against the wall, and my hand sought out the softness between her legs. I felt the heat through her pants and pressed my palm against her, rubbing in a slow circular motion, smiling at the sight of the fever that crept over her face.
“We can have sex here in the dark or back at your place.” I nipped along her neck, loving the way she arched into me. “Your choice.”
I applied more pressure, my hand cupping all of her as she opened her legs just enough to give me the access I needed. “That feel good?” I whispered in her ear, pressing into her, creating the kind of friction she needed.
“You know it does.” Her voice was soft, barely audible. “But you have to stop.” She inhaled a deep, ragged breath before whispering, “Please.”
Something about her tone got to me, and the sexual haze that had clouded my brain began to fade. She wanted me. But she wasn’t into it.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, taking a step back. “I know you feel this.”
She was silent for a few moments, and just when she opened her mouth to respond, someone behind us cleared their throat. I angled my head for a look and spied a tiny brunette with two phones, one in each hand. She couldn’t see Echo, not all of her anyway, and I arched a brow, more than a little pissed off at being interrupted.
“This is a private conversation.”
“Um, I’m uh…Ali, and I need Echo to come with me.” She stumbled over her words, but I didn’t give a fuck.
“Shit,” Echo whispered, straightening her clothes before she stepped away. “Ali. Hey.”
The little brunette darted a look my way before pointing below. “They need you on the stage.”
“Okay. I’m good. We were just…discussing…something.”
“We’re not done yet,” I ground out.
Ali looked at Echo and then back to me. “Okay. Well, um…” She pointed toward the main level. “They need you in like, five.”
“Okay. Give me one second.”
The girl, Ali, stepped back and turned around, clearly not leaving until she had Echo where she wanted her.
“Who the fuck is that?” I asked, annoyed at the little cock blocker.
Now Echo looked pissed. “Ali is my assistant, and you need to back the hell off and grow some goddamn manners.”
“What does she need you for?” I wasn’t giving in. In fact, the angrier Echo got, the hotter she became. And the more worked up I got.
“There’s a thing I agreed to do. I have to…” She swore and nailed me with hard look. “It’s none of your business, and this right here?” she hissed. “It’s not going to happen.”
She didn’t give me a chance to answer. She turned tail and left, and I had to fight with myself not to follow.
They headed downstairs, and after a few moments, I did the same. I watched from the edge of the crowd as Echo moved to the big stage, and after grabbing a drink, I headed in the same direction. There was a live auction underway, and I leaned against a table, legs crossed as folks with money to burn bid boatloads of the green stuff on stupid shit. Boats and vacations, I could understand, but one guy spent twenty grand on a new set of tits for his wife.
When Echo walked across the stage, the crowd cheered. She waved, did a cute little curtsey, and then looked at the auctioneer. The old guy began his spiel, reading off the card in his hands.
“And now, folks, we’ve got quite the treat. The lovely Echo Mansfield has agreed to let one lucky person out there spend the entire weekend with her at her family’s beautiful plantation home, Live Oaks, in Louisiana. She will be at your beck and call. It’s a one-of-a-kind getaway, and we’ll start the bidding at fifty thousand.
I stood straighter, watching as the bidding evolved into a battle between Nick Greenfield, a quarterback with the Jets, and some creepy old dude I didn’t know. They got as high as four hundred grand, which was Greenfield’s bid, and when the auctioneer did his thing, looking to the old dude to pony up more dough, I raised my hand, and the place went quiet.
“And what is your bid, young man?” the auctioneer asked, his voice giving the right amount of drama to the whole thing.
I looked up at the stage and found Echo’s eyes on me. Her chest rose and fell slowly, and her eyes glittered under the lights.
“One million.”
The crowd gasped. The quarterback swore. And Echo shot a look my way that would have driven a knife through me if she could have.
Malcolm appeared from out of nowhere. He slapped me on the back and handed me a shot of tequila. He winked and shook his head.
“Dude, that’s one way to get a woman alone.”
No shit, I thought, glancing back toward the stage. Echo wasn’t happy. That much was clear.
Too bad we weren’t on the same page.