Calendar Girl: November: Book 11 (5 page)

I laughed. “Don’t be mad, Rachel. Mason wanted to surprise you.”

Rachel smiled, and her cheeks turned a rosy pink as Mason squeezed her shoulder.

“So Mason, the nation knows that you’ve been single for a while. How do you feel about finding the lucky woman at your side?”

“You know, Mia, I feel thankful. Rachel is my perfect better half, and I can’t wait to make her my wife.”

I licked my lips and watched as Mason wooed the world and his girl in an interview that would be broadcast on national television.

“Okay, Mason, now that you’ve dropped a bomb so big that all the single women in the world will be crying into their Cheerios, let’s bring it back to topic. We’re finding out what our celebrity friends are thankful for. You’ve mentioned your fiancée already, which I totally agree with. Rachel is something to be thankful for! But what else?”

Mason sat back and pursed his lips. “Good friends, my fans, the team, the sport as a whole. I wouldn’t be where I am today if I hadn’t had a love for baseball. Most of all though, I’m thankful for my family—my dad, brothers, and niece. Aside from Rachel, they’re my world.”

“Thank you, Mason, for sharing the news of your impending nuptials with the fans of the show. I wish you and Rachel a very long and happy marriage.”

“What about you?” he added, and the cameras kept rolling.

I looked around the room and back at Mason, who had a huge shit-eating grin on his face. The same one I’d offered to smack of his handsome face more than a time or two. “Um, what?”

Rachel’s mouth twisted into a snarky grin. Yep, these two were definitely made for one another. Cockiness marries snarkiness. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe that’s a very specific style ring on your finger there,” Rachel said, sweet as apple pie and just as sugary.

“Yeah, Mia, share
your
news with the world!” Mason urged.

Oh. My. God. That dog. Called my ass out!

My underarms started to sweat, and I could feel moisture collecting at my hairline as the bright lights made me feel as if I were in an interrogation room with the Oakland PD.

“Uh…” I grinned, looked down at my ring, and couldn’t find it in myself to deny the best thing that had ever happened to me. Just as I was contemplating how to respond, get my panic under control, and at the very least, stop the camera and re-film the ending, I glanced up as if an invisible tether had pulled my chin up. The air in the room became charged in a way that I was sure if I touched any surface I’d feel a shock. My eyes met the ones I planned on looking at for the rest of my life.

As if on cue, Wes entered the frame and held his hands out to me. I put both of mine into his, and he tugged me up. Before I could respond, say anything really, he placed his hand on my cheek and his mouth over mine. He kissed me hard, long, and with intent. It wasn’t a wet kiss, but what it lacked in heat it made up for in heaps of love. All of this while the cameras kept rolling.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Wes said, his green eyes filled with humor. He was wearing a beautiful pair of dress slacks and crisp white dress shirt with a corduroy blazer. Positively scrump-didily-umptious.

“Uh, everyone”—I inhaled and looked at the camera, a little stunned—“this is Weston Channing, my fiancé.” I smiled like a loon.

Wes quirked his lips, looped his fingers with mine and waved at the camera with his other hand. Such a class act.

That’s when I pretty much lost all control of my own show.

“Now this just got interesting,” Mace said. “Tell us, Mia, what are you thankful for this year?”

I couldn’t have torn my eyes away from the man I loved if my body had been set on fire. “Wes.” I sighed. “There’s so much to be thankful for. My sister, my brother, my dad, my best friend, and all the new friends I’ve made that make me feel as though, no matter where I am, I’m loved. Really, I think that’s what I’m thankful for this year. Love. In all its forms.”

“I love you, Mia Saunders, and can’t wait to make you my wife,” Wes said as clear as day with a camera the size of a fridge right in front of our faces. All of the paparazzi that had been camping out around our Malibu home, the Century Production offices who were scrambling for any bit of information about Wes and his captivity, the millions in the movie that was being filmed that was currently just sitting, Gina DeLuca, and everything in between would be sorely upset about this newfound information blasted on my show and not in their smut rags.

On top of all of that drama, this segment was set to air this Friday, which meant not only would the entire world know that we were getting hitched, his parents would find out as well. We’d better inform them of our pending nuptials immediately after we left here today.

Wes turned me toward the cameras. I responded, jerked back to reality into the middle of the show. I gasped out my ending dialogue in an attempt to make it sound good enough that we wouldn't need to film this again. There was no way I was going through all of this twice.

“Thanks again to our guest, Mason Murphy, and his fiancée, Rachel, for sharing their news with us. I’m sure I can speak for Dr. Hoffman when I say you’re welcome on our show any time you want to make an announcement.” I glanced at the camera and grinned. “And well, folks, be thankful for your blessings because they are plenty. I sure know mine are.” On that note, I wrapped my arms around the man of my dreams, laid my forehead against his, and heard the director say cut just before Wes's lips sealed over mine.

My man had claimed me on national television. How the hell did one profess his love after that?

“
W
hat are you doing here
, and what the hell did you just do?” I scolded Wes while molding my body to his. Even mad, I couldn’t help wanting to plaster my body against his larger, much sexier muscled form. Yum.

He chuckled against my neck and placed a soft, warm kiss there. “Mia, relax. Mason told me about the plan for him to announce to the world that he was marrying the love of his life, and I thought…hell, I want to jump on that bandwagon too. No sense in it remaining a secret.”

I worried my lip and stared into his beautiful green eyes. “But, but, what about the blood-sucking paparazzi? They’ve been after you for weeks. Won’t this give them more ammunition to sling at you?” I frowned, nervous that Wes had made a whopping mistake. I
could
change it, by not airing the end of the show, even if it would put our ratings into the stratosphere. Wes’s health and happiness were not worth an extra couple million viewers.

Wes shook his head. “Mia, this is going to do the opposite. It will give the paps something happier to focus on than all the deaths and the shitstorm that went with what happened oversees. Gina is barely hanging on by a thread. You know why?”

Even the simple mention of Gina DeLuca’s name sent a shiver of dread rippling up my spine and made gooseflesh appear on my arms. I clenched my teeth and tried to pretend it didn’t bother me. “No. Why?”

He cupped my cheek. “Because she doesn’t have something beautiful to hold onto every night. I do, and I want the world to know it. Give those flesh eaters something more powerful to cling to. I have no problem talking all day long about how much I love you and my plan to make you my wife.”

I sighed. So different than the way he’d been in January. Ten months ago, he’d been laser-focused on work and the movie. Now, it was all about me. “If you think this will help you heal, I’m right there with you, holding out my left hand for everyone to see.”

He grinned. “Good, because we have an interview set up with
People
Magazine.”

My eyes widened.

“I’m not going to talk all about us.” He waggled his eyebrows to try to lighten my instant fear. The man knew me too well. “I also plan on talking a little about what happened over there, how I’m getting help, and maybe it will give some others who are fighting PTSD another reminder that people really do care and what they experienced isn’t who they are. It’s something that happened to them.”

A lock of his hair fell into his eyes, so I pushed it back. Flickers of that time without him prodded at my mind, bringing with them a gush of horrible memories. God, I didn’t know what I would have done if he hadn’t come home. I wouldn’t be where I was today without him, that’s for sure. I definitely wouldn’t be this happy. I was surprised every day by how much I loved my life and how my luck had changed exponentially from when I started this journey almost a full year ago.

I leaned up and kissed him, wanting to put everything I had into that kiss. The pride I had in him for every step he took toward healing, for the magic I believed we had in our relationship, and most importantly, the love I held for him. Sometimes it felt so powerful I didn’t know what to do with it. But right then, in front of the crew, Mason and Rachel, and everyone else, I kissed my man for all he was worth. He growled into my mouth and dipped me over his leg. The applause throughout the room was deafening.

“Damn,
lucita
, I’m late for the party! Is there a line I should stand in? You dolling out
besos
? If so, I’m next!”

Anton’s booming voice startled me enough that I broke the kiss and laughed into my man’s mouth. Wes scowled and then smiled, showing me he was getting past Anton’s incorrigible nature towards all women.

“You are late, as in by two full hours. What did you do last night?”

He grinned that sexy smile that set panties to the soak setting. “I think the better question would be, what
didn’t
I do last night?” He clucked his tongue and lifted his eyebrows.

Sighing, I shook my head. “Come on. Let’s get Kathy to mic you up so we can start your first segment.”

“So no
beso
then?” He pouted dreamily.

I rolled my eyes and cast a glance at Wes.

“No fucking
beso
. If you want to keep your lips intact, buddy, you’ll keep your comments to yourself,” Wes growled in Anton’s direction.

That made Anton stop, cross his hands over his chest, tip his head back, and crack up laughing. Full-on hyena action happening right in front of us. “Sorry,
amigo
, no offense. I love how protective you are of our Mia.”

Wes cringed. “You mean
my
Mia, Anton. You’re skating on thin ice with me as it is. Now, I’ve been cool with you, but seriously, you need to keep your shit in check if you don’t intend to start something.” Wes’s voice was cutting and abrasive. There was absolutely no reason for him to be so harsh.

“Wes…really. Anton’s just messin’ around. Relax.” I went over to his side, and he tugged me closer. I kept forgetting that since his captivity he had this new jealousy trigger that I was not used to or particularly fond of. It positively irked me to no end that he suspected every Tom, Dick, and Harry in the near vicinity to be making a play for my attention, which really wasn’t the case. Not even close. Even last night, he’d gotten into it with the waiter at dinner because, according to Wes, the guy had sized up my chest. Surprise, surprise. I have huge knockers. Most men size up my breasts. I’m so used to it that I notice it more when a man
doesn’t
talk directly to my chest when he first meets me than when he does.

Anton came over to both of us. “Weston,
amigo
, I am happy for you and Mia. It fills my heart with extreme joy to hear that she has found her forever. I can see, too, that you are taken with her. As am I. As an
amiga
. Nothing more, nothing less. I say these things, how you say,
piloto automatico
? Mia is a
hermosa mujer
.”

I remembered Heather telling me that
hermosa mujer
meant “beautiful woman.”

“Your fiancée, she brings out the silly side. You understand?
Si
?"

Wes exhaled slowly, and his shoulders visibly relaxed to a normal position. He closed his eyes and tipped his chin down as if in supplication. “I’m sorry, Anton. I don’t know what’s going on. Even her friends are bringing out a fierce side in me. Please, forgive me, okay?” Wes’s request was sincere, and I could tell that, with Anton, it would be immediately forgiven. He was not the type to hold on to trivial misunderstandings.

“Ah, no
problemo
. Now,
muñeca
, where do you want me for this interview?”

“Um, let's start with the room with all the Puerto Rican art.”

Anton grinned. “See you there.”

I waited until Anton was out of the room, grabbed Wes’s hand, and took him down the hall to the back of the penthouse where I knew Anton’s den was located. The second we got there, I held the door open so that Wes could precede me.

A million emotions were storming through my system, and there was only one way I knew to get them out fast. Between him spilling his love for me on national television all the way to the caveman macho man threats, my entire body was tingling with excitement, happiness, anger, fear, anxiety, and everything in between.

The second I got through the door I closed it, spun on a heel, and threw my arms around Wes. Before he could speak, my mouth was on his and my tongue down his throat. Thank. God. He tasted like a thousand tiny Pop Rocks candies sizzling over my tongue. I moaned into his mouth as he palmed my ass. I sucked his bottom lip at the same time I pushed against his chest until he fell onto a long padded bench. The thing could have been used for sitting in front of the fireplace or as a footrest. I had no flipping clue, but I knew exactly what I’d be using it for right now, and if I knew Anton well, which I thought I did, he’d give me one helluva slow clap.

“Whoa, sweetheart, what’s going on? I thought you were going to ream me for going all alpha asshole on your friend. Honestly, I don’t know what came over me.”

I didn’t really care. Frankly, I was more focused on getting his belt undone than anything else.

I pulled my skirt up to my waist. Wes couldn't decide whether to open or close his mouth, and his eyes were riveted to my exposed skin. I’d worn black thigh highs and a simple black lace thong under my pencil skirt.

“Look, we don’t have a lot of time, but I need you. Right here. Right now. So whip it out.”

My man eyed me like I was a chocolate donut sitting next to his cup of coffee. “Christ, I’m marrying the perfect fucking woman.”

Wes lifted up in a squat style move, unbuckled his belt, and exposed his hardening shaft. He stroked it until there was a pearl of liquid on the tip and it had grown to full size. I knelt on the bench and licked the crown, allowing that tasty pearl to coat my tongue before I swallowed him down.

“Fuck, yeah.” Before I could move into a better position, a searing blast hit my bare ass once, twice, three times. “Don’t you dare suck me off,” he growled and pulled me away by gripping a handful of my hair. The hair stylist was going to be so pissed.

Wes sat down on the bench, and I whimpered at the sight of his dick so hard and ready. He leaned back, both hands on the flat leather edges of the bench to support his weight. “Straddle me. Take me to the root. All the way to the very end.”

Happily, I straddled the bench, pushed aside my thong, centered his wet tip at the entrance to my sex, and slowly slid down. Inch by tantalizing inch, his thickness stretched and filled me. Once he was rooted deep, with my ass cheeks pressing against the soft skin of his balls and the scratchy zipper from his opened pants, I leaned back.

“I want to watch you take what you need, sweetheart. Now move.” His voice was a low, throaty rumble that sent another zing of lust running through my system.

Gripping his knees, I used my arms and the leverage of my feet on the floor to rock up and down his length. Seeing his slick cock disappear inside my body over and over acted like its own aphrodisiac. The more I watched, the wetter I got, and the harder I pushed on the down stroke. With each motion, Wes grunted, until I saw only him and his powerful shaft bringing me to ecstasy. Everything in my mind and body was focused one hundred percent on the slide of flesh on flesh. Filling myself with Wes was like nothing I could explain. Every down stroke was shear heaven. Every retreat and loss of his flesh utter hell. Pleasure tipped with pain.

“Look at that. So beautiful. Watching you take me inside, getting yourself off on my cock, makes me so hard. I can’t wait to shoot so far up inside you that you’ll have a permanent reminder of me for days.” His voice was rough, mimicking the grip his fingers had on my hips.

I moaned, the thought catapulting me into a frenzy of need and desire. Something inside me just lost it, and I started making animalistic noises like those from a hissing, angered cat.

“Oh, yeah, you’re right there. I can tell.” Wes bit down on his lip and looked down between my thighs. “Love that cherry-red button just begging for my touch. If I could be in two places at once, I’d be sucking that clit so hard you’d scream the house down.” He lifted his thumb to my mouth. “Lick it.”

I did as he ordered, sucking the salty digit into my mouth and swirling my tongue around it until I couldn’t help but bite down on the bit of flesh. He grinned. That smile was my undoing. I jackknifed up and slammed down, grinding against his pelvic bone as much as possible, mindless in my pursuit to get what I wanted. To soar as high as he could take me. Wes sucked in a harsh breath through his teeth. He was so damn deep. It felt like his cock was spearing into the heart of me. So good.

“You want me get you off? Make you scream?” His face was a mask of pure lust. Those gorgeous eyes that controlled half my thoughts were slits and mostly black. His mouth was slack, his bottom lip moist from endless drugging kisses.

I shook my head. I wanted to scream more than anything else in this world, but I didn’t want to do that while an entire room full of people could potentially hear us. As it was, everyone was already going to know what we were up to, and somehow, that thought made it even more powerful.

“All right, sweetheart. I know what you need.” He put his wet thumb directly over my clit, clamped his mouth over mine, and flicked my clit in a repeating pattern.

I wrapped my legs around his waist and squeezed the life out of him as a monster orgasm tore through me. I cried out, but his kiss muffled every sound, swallowing my orgasm down like it was his right, and it so was.

Just after I came, he pulled me off his wet cock, spun me around so that I was up on my knees, shoved my tiny speck of a thong down my legs, spread my ass cheeks, and plowed into my pussy from behind.

“Wes!” I cried out at the intense intrusion. Because I sat on the bench, knees so close together, it was a much tighter fit and he was well endowed.

Wes leaned over my back and whispered in my ear, “If you don’t want the entire world to know what’s going on in this room, I suggest you be quiet.”

“But I can’t,” I whimpered weakly and wiggled my ass so that he’d move inside me. I’d already come, but the new sensation and fit was too much to ignore. I needed him again. Always needed more.

He nipped at my neck and shoulder. “Okay, fine.” After a moment of rustling followed by a clanking noise, Wes handed me his belt folded in half. “Bite,” he said, as he held it in front of my mouth. The moment I clamped down, he pulled back and out all the way to the wide knobbed head where he stopped just inside of me. “Gonna take you hard now, Mia.”

When Wes said he was going to take me hard, he fucking meant it. I had enough time to clench my teeth tighter on the belt and to grip the padded bench before my entire body shifted forward at the power behind his thrusts. I grunted loud, but no cries slipped out. He rode me hard, all the while speaking endless filthy accolades about my body, the way I felt wrapped around him.