Page 84 of No Hope of Rescue

I oblige, and within five minutes, she’s turned my waves into large curls that swing when I walk. She hands me a small mauve pot of lip gloss, while she rummages through her closet.

“What about shoes?” She pulls out two pairs—a flat Mary Jane made of leather, with glittery silver rhinestones along the edge, and a pair of strappy low-slung heels beaded in amber.

The surprise in her face is priceless when I reach for the strappy heels. I slide them on. The high heels made me feel slightly ridiculous, but I have to admit, they also leave me feeling quite sexy. They do something to my hips and ass when I walk.

Something I know Brock will appreciate.

After a quick knock, Kelly comes in. “I knew you were going to try that dress.” She holds up a beaded black purse.

“And now a little blush,” Codie says, lightly applying a wide soft brush to my cheekbones. “Mascara?”

I shake my head. I always end up with it all over my face.

“You don’t need it,” Kelly says. “Those lashes of yours are too much. Long and thick.”

This is my family. I watch as mother and daughter kid each other and joke around. Kelly snips off a wayward thread. Codie hugs her mom. In a moment, they turn to me. I am a part of this, I remind myself.

“Ready?” Kelly asks.

I nod.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Brock Weston

The door opens, and Riley walks down the hall in a black velvet dress that clings to her like a second skin. She’s wearing a thin gold chain, setting off the bronze in her skin. Her long, muscular legs gleam with some kind of oil, and her calves bunch with each step.

I’ve never seen her in heels. They really do something to her legs that makes me swallow. Hard.

Her hips move forward when she walks, tilted at an angle that makes my groin churn, and her hair . . . her hair gleams gold and brown and everything in between. It lies in large fanning curls against her face, shoulders, and bare back. Somewhere in her Latin background she’s got a blond Spaniard great grandfather tucked away.

Jesus. I suddenly want to rush her, slam her up against the wall, and pin her with my hips.

I swallow. Carefully. “Oh my God. Riley, you look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she says. I swear she purrs as she walks by me. In a moment, Codie sashays by as well, and I’m well aware that she’s enjoying this way too much.

I open the car doors for both women and settle into the driver’s seat.

“Oh, here,” Codie says and hands me something from the back seat. Two small perfect pearls sit in my palm.

“Are these—Oh, I can’t wear those,” Riley says.

“Dad gave those to Mom. She wants you to wear them,” Codie says.

Riley’s glance falls to me. “I—I’m afraid I’ll drop them.”

I take the small pearls and remove the backing of one. “Lean toward me.” I reach up and switch on the overhead light. After gently working the stem through the hole in her ear, I replace the backing. I kiss her earlobe before beginning again.

“Next,” I whisper. She turns around in her seat, nearly facing me, and I reach around her shoulder, her breath against my wrist. Her eyes are downcast, lashes thick, beautiful against her cheeks. Her lips glow with a rose stain that’s driving me crazy right now.

Laying a hand against her neck, I kiss her other ear. My prick tingles and I shift in my seat. How am I going to get through this entire evening without having her?

΅

When we first climb out of the car, Codie’s on one arm and Riley, on the other.

“I still get to dance with you, right?” Codie asks as I hang up Riley’s jacket.