DECEPTION : Chapter 1
Two years later …
“Can you believe we got VIP passes? Like, how the hell did you win the competition again?” Sharna’s eyes light up as she tops up the cocktail glasses so much it sloshes over the rim with her excitable giggle. My friend has been an incredibly supportive over the years, especially lately. She even moved back to New Jersey to carry me through my divorce and help me find the perfect rental. Nights I didn’t want to be alone, she stayed with me, and now she only lives a ten-minute drive away. So, she was the obvious person to bring as a plus one for a giveaway I won that I didn’t even know I’d entered.
“I’m really not sure. I know Gerrard came here a few times; we came together a couple of years ago.” I take another sip of the fruity cocktail I’ve already forgotten the name of. “Maybe he entered the giveaway and gave them my email at some point.” I shrug.
She scrunches her nose at the mention of Gerrard, and who can blame her? My friend is protective of me, and I love her for it. We grew up more like sisters than anything else, and our bond is unbreakable.
“Mm, the douche probably thought he was being clever spamming your inbox with junk mail,” she states before taking another drink.
I’m really not sure Gerrard would think of signing me up for spam emails, but if he did, I’m kind of glad. A night out is just what we needed.
“So, how are the wedding plans coming along?” I ask, and her lips purse.
“Honestly?” She quirks an eyebrow at me, and I nod for her to continue. “I don’t like all the photos of the quaint little chapels you send me, Hal. I want big, elaborate.” She throws her arm out for emphasis, and I grimace. I had an elaborate wedding with Gerrard and hated every second of it.
“Okay, well, what about instead of a chapel, you could hire a venue and have the wedding and reception there?”
“Like where?”
I take another sip of my drink and tap my lip while my mind races with all the suggestions Gerrard’s family had for our wedding. “A ballroom in a well-known hotel? A manor home? A golf club? A marquee?” I suggest.
“I’ll let the wedding organizers look into it.” She waves her hand at me, and I laugh. Sharna never likes to do the work herself, hence why she asked me. “I just thought with you having experience you’d have some good ideas.” I ignore her words. The cute little chapel I sent her was my good idea.
“Oh, shit. Don’t look now. Hot dude alert.” Her eyes widen, then she dips her head as she speaks, and her blonde locks curtain her face. She takes another drink, making me giggle at her schoolgirl antics.
I lift my head and lock eyes with the most intense stare I’ve ever come across. It has my blood pumping rapidly and my heart rate escalating. This man is hot as the Sahara Desert, causing my mouth to become just as dry.
He swaggers toward us, and his gaze holds a familiarity I can’t fathom. It’s like I know him, but I don’t recognize him. His jeans fit him perfectly, his white T-shirt is stretched over his chest so cinched you can make out his pecs, and he’s wearing a leather jacket.
A leather jacket, for Christ’s sake.
Gerrard only ever wore a suit jacket and khaki pants. I grimace at the way my mind went immediately to him, but he’s the only comparison I have.
The guy’s hair is messy but somehow styled. How the hell is that possible? I itch to push my fingers through it and sniff his neck as I do. To climb … Jesus, Hallie, you need to get laid.
Oh, dear god, I need some therapy; this is not normal.
Be normal, Hallie.
“Can I sit down?” He points toward the chair beside me, but I can’t seem to construct words, so Sharna nudges my hand and side-eyes me.
Get a grip, Hallie.
I clear my throat and smile tightly. “Sure.”
Jesus, when the hell did I become so damn awkward? I shove the thought of Gerrard’s taunts to the back of my mind as he settles beside me. His leg brushing mine sends a blazing heat through my body as his warmth creeps through my skin.
Holy shit, I’m like a love-struck teenager who doesn’t know how to function.
“What’s your name?” he asks, and his smooth, confident baritone voice does something to me that renders me speechless.
“I’m Sharna.” Sharna holds her hand out toward the guy, and he stares at it. Something inside me doesn’t want him touching her, but that’s ludicrous.
His hand slides into hers, and he gives it a quick shake, then moves it beneath the table and wipes his palm on his jeans. Sharna didn’t witness the action, as her dreamy smile remains plastered on her pretty face, and I snort at how obvious she’s swooning right now.
“You never said your name?” he whispers into my ear as he places his arm over the back of my chair. When his hand brushes my neck, my brain misfires. “I guess I will just call you my little red, huh?”
I roll my lips while contemplating his nickname for me. Those gray eyes of his bore into mine like he’s desperate for a taste of me, and the thought has excitement humming through my body, begging for his touch.
A shudder runs through me, and he pulls back, gifting me with a smirk, as if knowing my body’s response to him.
I straighten my shoulders. “Hallie. My name’s Hallie.”
Lips quirking at the side, his gray eyes flicker over my face. “Nice to meet you, Hallie.” His smooth voice caresses my heart, and his sandalwood cologne permeates the air, making me want to sniff him wantonly. I become wet at his proximity, and his commanding aura turns me to putty in his strong hands. It’s like his presence demands my attention, and my body willingly obeys.
“Rocco.”
Heat creeps up my neck and over my cheeks as the room becomes thick with an indescribable haze.
His tongue darts out over his top lip, and I swear I almost combust.
Jeez, why is everything about him so hot.
“I think little red suits her.” Sharna cuts in, breaking the sexual tension bubbling between us.
He takes a drink of his beer, and his eyes devour me while I try to suppress the whimper lodged in my throat. Then he places the bottle back on the table and turns toward me. With his hand over the back of my chair, he toys with my hair, and I find the action hypnotic. “You’re not married, Little Red.” He nods toward my finger, and I register it as a statement, not a question. “Do you have a boyfriend?”
I open my mouth to speak.
“No, she doesn’t. She’s totally available. Completely single,” Sharna says, and I swear I could slide beneath the table at the eagerness of her words. Heat deepens the red on my cheeks as embarrassment sets in.
He laughs. “Does she always answer for you?” The amusement in his eyes has me smiling back at him, and I open my mouth again to respond.
Sharna leans forward to speak. “Only when needed. And right now, she needs a guy to show her a good time.” His eyes never leave mine, as if I’m the only woman in the room. I choke on thin air, and Rocco chuckles, so his muscles pull his T-shirt tighter, and I itch to explore them.
His lips part, but his words are cut off by a shrill ringtone coming from his jacket, and his jaw clenches. “Excuse me a minute.” He nods toward us both, then stands and pulls his phone out as he walks away with a confident swagger toward the balcony, and I’m unable to take my eyes off him.
Even his ass is hot.
“Holy fucking shit balls with bells on. He is finnne!” Sharna leans across the table, breaking my train of thought and bringing my gaze back to her. “He wants to fuck your brains out, Hal.” She wiggles her eyebrows.
My eyes widen on her words. “What? No. No, he doesn’t.” I shake my head.
“Yes. Yes, he does.” She nods frantically. “And you’re going to let him.” Pouring another drink from the jug, she pushes it toward me.
Panic crawls up my spine. “No. I can’t.” I haven’t been with anyone since Gerrard, and he’s literally the only person I’ve been with.
“Yes. You are. You need to get back in the saddle and ride that hot specimen until he breaks, or breaks you, whichever comes first.” She shrugs like her words are no big deal.
I snort at her words, then glance over her shoulder toward the hot specimen.
“I don’t know him.” I chew on my lip. Could I really do this? Have sex with a total stranger?
“Perfect. He doesn’t know you or that douche you were married to.” She’s right, he doesn’t know me or Gerrard; he doesn’t know the burdens I hold. It’s simply one night of fun. That’s all.
One night.
“I haven’t had sex in so long, Sharn,” I say as I stare down at the table.
“Better, still. It’ll be like he’s breaking you in all over again.” I shoot my eyes up toward hers, and her eyebrows dance. “The right way,” she tacks on, with a dig at Gerrard’s lack of skills.
I take him in once again. “He kind of looks young?”
“Perfect. No dad bod.” She nods enthusiastically with a wave of her hand.
“Gerrard doesn’t have a dad bod.”
“He didn’t have skills either. That guy”—she throws her thumb over her shoulder—“will know how to make you scream.”
My eyes trail over him. Jeez, he’s hot, in a bad boy kind of way, which is the complete opposite of my perfectly put together ex. On the surface, at least.
Tattoos cover his hands and sneak out of his T-shirt up his neck, and I lick my lips at the thought of exploring them.
Gerrard doesn’t have tattoos. He’s always been so clean-cut, but this guy, this guy is different, and my body seems to like it.
“He’s young,” I whisper again, as if trying to talk myself out of it.
If I was guessing, I’d say early twenties, and when I’m thirty-three, that feels like a huge jump. Too much.
“Hell yes, he is!” Sharna practically screams while I wince at her overenthusiastic reaction. Then she lowers her tone. “He will be eager to please you. A young stallion for you to ride. Plenty of stamina. Sounds perfect to me.” Her eyes become dreamy, then they reach mine and soften. “Hal, you deserve some fun. It’ll give you a confidence boost. Go for it!” I contemplate her words. She knows I’ve only had sex with Gerrard, and I’ve been struggling to get into the dating scene despite numerous proposals. “Look, all you need to do is fuck him. Nobody is saying it’s for more than one night.” She pours more cocktail into my glass with an excitable grin, and a smile tugs at my lips. She’s right, a night I can do.
As I move to pick up the glass, a shadow looms over us, and I lift my head to face Rocco. His eyes bore down on me and darken as I wither beneath his stare and swallow at the intensity behind it. There’s something possessive lying within it, and a slither of unease ripples through me before I push it to one side. “I think she’s trying to get me drunk.” I glance toward the cocktail in my hand and feign a chuckle.
“Doesn’t matter to me. I’m happy to take you either way, but not going to lie …” He leans down, only inches from my face, and our eyes are magnetized. The atmosphere becomes electric as he brushes a lock of hair from my face and pushes it behind my ear. “I prefer you to be conscious the first time I take you.” Smirking, he pulls back, and I feel his loss instantly. The way his aura controls my body without physically trying feels like something profound, like I’m discovering a part of me I never knew existed, and more importantly, I’m willing to submit to it.
My mind tries to play catch-up with what he just did and said, but it whirls with the latter, as if I’m subconsciously pushing everything else from my brain like a well-oiled machine.
“First time?”
He licks his lips like a predator, and I squirm, never feeling so vulnerable yet so alive. His eyes bore into mine like he’s devouring my soul.
His intentions toward me are clear as hunger rolls off him in aggressive waves.
“She’s good to go.” My head snaps toward Sharna, but I don’t have time to react to her words before she’s thrusting my purse into my chest and nodding toward the guy. My mouth falls open at her forceful actions.
Not giving me time to second-guess, Rocco holds his hand out toward me, and when I slip mine into his, static electricity flashes through me. His touch takes my breath away, and when he shudders, I know he felt the same energy. It’s like a fire has started burning and someone threw gasoline on it, igniting me with a feeling of determination like no other; I need him, if only for tonight.
I need to feel free.