Wingman [Woman]

He stands and turns to the group. “Excuse me, gentleman. If the waitress comes by, we’ll both have the salmon.”

Then he pulls me away from the group.

“What if I don’t like salmon?” I say as he drags me towards the front door.

The moment we’re outside, he turns to me. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” I say, crossing my arms. “I just don’t like that woman.”

He leans in close. “I don’t fuckin’ pay you to like her, I pay you to do as I ask. So do it.”

Then he turns and storms back inside.

I won’t lie; my heart aches a little. He changes when he’s around her; he turns into a giant asshole—an asshole I don’t know. I straighten my shoulders, take a deep breath, and then walk back inside. He is right about one thing: he does pay me to do a job, so that’s what I’ll do.

Get it together, Tia.

“I’m so very sorry for my rude behavior, gentleman,” I say, addressing the group as I approach the table. “Please forgive me.”

They all stare at Reign, and then look to me.

“Not a problem at all, dear,” one says.

“I’m going to head to the bathroom, if you all don’t mind.”

I look down at Reign whose jaw is tight as he stares at his glass. With shaking fingers, I reach over and stroke the side of his jaw. He jerks and turns to me. Big risk I’m about to take, but if he really wants Slutena to believe we’re a couple, then he needs to make it look real. I lean down so close I can smell him. God, he smells good.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur, and then I press my lips to his.

I’ve never kissed Reign. I’ve thought about it—believe me—but I’ve never had to do it. We’re always playing a breakup scene or a cheating scene. Never a happy-lover scene. His lips are soft, yet rugged and manly. I push myself closer, deepening the kiss. He lets me. I don’t complain.

By the time we pull back, I’m feeling short of breath and flustered. The moment I catch a look at his lusty, golden eyes, my heart skips a beat.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” I stammer, before turning and rushing off.

Not before I catch a glance at Slutena’s face, though. Her lips are tight, her eyes narrowed, her chin raised.

That kiss was a success.

~*~*~*~

I giggle, my cheeks flushed with the alcohol swimming through my body. Business lunches aren’t so bad after all. After we ate and everyone loosened up, the drinks started. Now it’s well into the early evening and we’re all under the weather. Turns out old dudes are funny and can really let their hair down. Well, they would, if they had hair.

“Another,” I say to Reign, sliding up beside him at the bar.

“Thinkin’ you’ve had to much,” he says, staring down at me.

“I’m thinkin’ not.”

“Tiani,” he warns.

“Reign.” I smile.

He orders me a vodka and orange, and hesitantly hands it over to me. God he looks good, tie all loosened, sleeves rolled up. Yum.

“Are you finished eye-fucking me?”

I lift my gaze to his. “I never denied you were an attractive man, Reign Braxton. I’m allowed to look. Mrs. Mufflepuff still knows what’s good for her.”

“What the fuck did you just call your pussy?”

Mmmm, pussy on Reign’s lips sounds great.

“Mrs. Mufflepuff. I read it on the Internet.” I shrug. “It suited her.”

“Her?”

I scoff and smack his arm. “My lady parts . . .”

“You name your lady parts?”

He looks confused.

“Don’t you name your, errr . . .” I stare down at his pants.

“My cock?” he offers.

Whoa, there go my cheeks.

“Uh, yeah,” I mumble, dragging my eyes away.

“Uh, no,” he responds, smirking.

“Well, you’re missing out. Allow me—”

“Don’t even think about it,” he warns.

He stands and with a pout, I follow him back to the booth. I watch as he looks around for Slutena. Typical. His eyes stop across the room and his back goes rigid. She’s on the dance floor, grinding against a tall, attractive man. And when I say grinding, I mean grinding. There are hips rubbing, necks being kissed, and hands grazing breasts. Totally X-rated.

“She’s doing it on purpose,” I say to Reign, putting my hand on his arm.

He’s so stiff. I turn him to face me, and his jaw continually tics as if he’s about to lose his shit any second.

“Calm down, big guy. If she suspects it’s getting to you, she wins. Do you trust me?”

“What?” he bites out.

“I said, do you trust me?”

He nods with a sharp jerk of his head.

“Come on then.”

“Where are we going?” he asks.

“To dance,” I say.

He shakes his head and puts his hands up. “No way, I’ve seen you dance.”

I put my hands on my hips. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He leans in close. “It means you can’t. That spastic little jiggle you do is completely unflattering.”

“Are you talking about my excited dance, because that and my sexy dance are two very different things!”

He raises his brows.

“Stop being a prude, come on.”