Choosing the Right Man (NICE GIRL TO LOVE Book Three) (15 page)

Sexy as hell lingerie.

Drive him insane lingerie.

“No, not my dress, just my underwear.” She smiled. “So can you help me with this latch down here?”

Evil, evil, evil.

Christ, he loved her.

He made quick work of the little latch that really didn’t seem like she needed all that much help with.

Not that he was complaining.

“Thank you,” she said as she slid her arms around him and pulled him down for a kiss.

He groaned low and loud, dragged himself to the other side of the couch to stop himself from jumping her right then and there. “You can’t kiss me like that, Abby. Not right now. I’m on a hair trigger here.”

“But we have a whole twenty minutes to spare now that you’ve taken care of my wardrobe needs so quickly,” she argued back in a bedroom soft voice as she traced her hands slowly down her midriff. Lower. And then lower.

Oh, good lord. “Sweetheart, you said you wanted to wait till our wedding night.” He closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. Maybe if he held it long enough, the rest of him would even out his color so he could be their ‘something blue.’

“No,” she said simply as she took advance of his sight loss and toppled him back down onto the couch. “I just said our wedding.” She straddled his legs. “Well, it’s our wedding. And I think I’m in the mood for a little wild and fast.”

“At this rate, you’ll have to be the ‘wild’ then because sweetheart, I’m definitely going to be the ‘fast.’”

His eyes flew open in surprise, and then slammed shut again at the feel of her hand curving around him, torturing him through his tuxedo slacks. “Christ. Abby, honey you can’t...” A shudder racked him and he grabbed her hand. His chest rose and fell unevenly. “I can’t take much more of that.”

“What can’t you take? Just my hands?”

He swallowed thickly and watched, practically catatonic as her fingers traced the edges of her bra, before drifting down her stomach to the edges of her panties.

“Or are you saying I can’t put my mouth on you either, Connor?” Her lower lip jutted out in the most devastatingly seductive pout. “Because that’s what I’ve been fantasizing about for the past few weeks.”

There went her clasp of her bra.

His sanity seemed to disappear with it.

She stretched back up to her full height then, hypnotically slow, arching against—but not quite touching—his torso with her own. So. Damn. Sexy.

He sank back against the couch, resolve obliterated. “Dress back on, honey. Can’t take much more.” Proper grammar was now officially beyond his scope.

His eyes squeezed shut to keep the fantasies from coming alive right in arm’s reach. The sound of fabric sliding down silky smooth skin made him even harder. Hotter. “Abby,” he warned roughly.

More silky rustling.

And a warm bra landed on his lap.

A pair of miniscule panties followed soon after.

Connor’s hands immediately shot to her hips when she settled atop his lap. He tried not to choke on his own tongue as he forced himself to open his eyes...and not look down.

Keeping his tormented gaze above the utterly naked temptations pressed against him, he searched her face.

And saw pure, undiluted desire.

His body tightened as if he’d been whipped.

Her lips went to the clenched cord of his neck. “This,” she whispered hoarsely. “Being completely naked while you’re fully clothed...” She shuddered, her husky voice trembling as she brushed her bare thighs further up along his clothing-covered ones.

“We’d better take these off, Connor. I’m afraid I’m a little...wet.”

All the air was knocked right out of his lungs. But still, he somehow managed to force out the noble words one more time: “Are you sure, honey? I want tonight to be special for you.”

She shut him up with a whole body caress that lanced over every nerve in his body. “Connor, tonight is going to be special no matter what. That has nothing to do with this. With us. I want you. In me.” Her stormy eyes trapped his. “Now.”

Somehow, his legs found the strength to stand. With Abby strapped to him, naked and scoring his neck with her teeth, Connor hotfooted it across the seemingly football field length suite to the king size bed. By the time he reached it, nearly all of his clothes had disappeared.

Ditto on his control.

Of course, most of the credit had to go to the not-so-nice-anymore bride in his arms, who’d been impressively creative at ridding him of both.

When he flung her onto the bed, all that was left on him was his boxer briefs. And the way she was eyeing it, he knew it wouldn’t be on him for long. “Last chance,” he managed hoarsely. He was so turned on, if she changed her mind, there was a very real chance he’d bawl like a baby. “Sweetheart, I have to be sure you won’t regret this.”

A small foil packet seemed to magically materialize in her hands. “I’m sure,” she said softly before tearing the packet open with her teeth.

Off flew his boxer briefs.

Tumbling into bed with her, he tried damned hard to slow things down but it was a losing battle. His skin was on fire and his lungs refused to cooperate as he coaxed her lips open with a barely controlled kiss while he worked to get his rioting body under control.

Clearly, Abby was not going to be an ally in his quest for control. Her curious hands wreaked havoc on his body as she slipped the condom on with what felt like far more than ten fingers.

Just the feel of her against him sent a wildfire flaring through his veins. Before he knew it, her hips were hitched against his. All it took was one scorching shift and slide and he was experiencing mind-blowing pleasure in maddeningly hot inches.

A low growl vibrated in his chest at the snug, perfect fit. Nothing had ever felt this good before. Body strung on a wire, breathing shattered, he drew back slowly and kept his eyes on hers this time as he slid into her again. As deep as he could go. His eyes slammed shut. Hands fisted in the sheets, he buried his lips against her neck and began a cautious rhythm that was a test of sheer discipline, every stroke an intense fire incinerating him alive. A roar of excitement thundered in his veins as he strained to focus solely on her pleasure instead of his own.

But then she began tensing and rippling around him, urging him to go wild. And he was lost. Unable to stop himself, he thrust forward so hard she let out an untamed, wanton cry that made him almost dizzy with need. His mission to give her sweet and gentle was quickly becoming more impossible by the second. Teeth clenched, he pulled back and gripped her waist to keep from taking her how he wanted...how she was begging him to with those faint, intoxicated whispers. Slanting his mouth over hers in a smoldering kiss, he drank in her whimpers, each one rasping erotically over his senses and lashing at his control. He was already so close to the edge, he didn’t trust himself to stay inside her a second longer.

“Where are you going?” she gasped, sinking her nails into his biceps in disbelief when he managed the insane feat of pulling back completely.

She stared up at him and a lust-filled haze clouded his judgment at the sight she made—dewy flesh, feline grace, and flushed desire. He skimmed his hands down her body, following with lips, teeth, and tongue to try and give her even a fraction of the all-consuming pleasure he was feeling. “I’m so close, Abby. Too close. Just let me...” He sucked in a harsh breath when her hand mercilessly slid between them, inciting him to continue what he’d started.

Helpless, he rocked against her and her eyes blazed in triumph.

“Oh god. Stop,” he hissed, grabbing her wrist to prevent her from torturing him more. Abruptly, he sat up in the middle of the bed and slid down her body, flexing his fingers into her thighs as he whispered against her belly, “Let me take care of you first—”

“Like hell.”

In a flash, she pushed him to sit upright and moved to straddle him. A heartbeat later, her expression turned to pure bliss as she took him in one devastating stroke straight to the hilt.

With a muffled shout, he tugged her back up, held her suspended for one agonizing second before stealing a hard, feral kiss and driving up into her again. Sexy moans spilled out of her as she clamped her legs around his waist and began riding them both to the brink of sanity. She arched her back and he groaned. When he dipped his head down to draw one tantalizing peak into his mouth, she gasped, the new angle of his hips causing her muscles to pulse, wild and erratic around his length. His arms banded around her in a full body shackle, pulling her closer, sliding him deeper, seizing what was left of his control and shoving him over the edge. Powerless to stop now, he surged into her one final time, his entire body cording violently as his release pounded through him in an endless tide of white-hot pleasure.

Long moments later, when the riptide finally settled, he was left floating, barely coherent as he laid her back on the bed and lifted his weight off of her. Every sensationally sex-drained muscle in his sated body protested the separation, her wet heat now an irreversible necessity that made the air hitting his skin feel icy cold in contrast.

Sapped of strength, the only thing keeping him from falling into an unconscious slumber was the knowledge that she hadn’t come. He cradled her face in his hands. “I’m such a jackass,” he rasped when his voice finally returned, his words thick, his throat raw. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” He dropped his forehead to her chest in apology.

“Don’t be.” She gave him a tender smile and sifted her hands through his hair, steadying her splintered breathing even as her voice, her whole body continued to vibrate with need. “I told you I wanted my wild and fast.”

Trailing kisses along her skin, he felt the heady shockwaves of heat still rippling through her, holding her hostage, teetering on the edge. Sizzling jolts and trembling whimpers she couldn’t contain. Every kiss, every touch was bringing her that much closer to her own release.

But not close enough.

He groaned when he saw the unquenched, impossibly sexy hunger burning in her eyes.

His new blushing bride was—as always—a sex goddess.

And not surprisingly, he was ready for her again.

Capturing her mouth in a slow, reverent kiss, he gently settled her back against the pillows. The way she was smoothing her hands across the muscles of his back, he knew she was under the severely misguided impression that he meant to roll over and head back down to the reception.

Almost chuckling at that crazy notion, he dropped a soft kiss on her lips and watched with avid focus as her sweet, understanding expression spiraled from surprise to unabashed lust when he shifted his hips against hers. Just enough to show her how ready he was again.

Grinning, he hooked his forearms under her knees.

“What are you doing? We need to head back to the reception already.”

“No can do. You got your chance to be wild. So now it’s my turn.” He bent down and slid his tongue over her hot flesh. “And honey, you better believe that after what you put me through the last few weeks, ‘fast’ is nowhere on the menu for you.”

“H
EY, YOU’RE
Skylar, right?”

Skylar looked up at the pretty dark haired woman in the chef’s outfit. “Hi, yeah. Are you a friend of Abby’s?”

“A friend of Connor’s actually.”

Skylar did a double take.

The woman chuckled. “I must say, that’s been a common reaction today. I take it your uncle doesn’t have a lot of female friends?”

“Not so much. At least not before he met Abby.”

“Ah, makes sense.” She grinned. “I’m Tessa, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you. I like your hair.”

Tessa tugged on the streaked hot pink tips. “Thanks. It’s a sister thing. It’ll wash out in a few days and I won’t look quite so crazy.” She started pushing forward a huge rolling tray of fruits and tarts and miniature cakes. “Hey, if you’re not too busy, I’d love some help with these desserts.”

“Really? Okay!” Skylar hopped up and followed her to the buffet line. “So did you make all this stuff by yourself?”

“All the desserts, yes. As for everything else, my catering partner and I split the cooking duties.” Tessa motioned for Skylar to line up the tarts on the serving table. “Do you like cooking?”

“I love it. Abby and I cook all the time. Nothing this fancy though. But we make lots of cookies and brownies and other stuff.”

“Perfect,” said Tessa with a smile. “Then I’m going to ask you to be my sous chef for today. You up for it?”

“Sure, what do I have to do?”

“I’m actually all done with the buffet line but I wanted to do a little something extra for Connor and Abby. Want to help me turn these plain old fruits into some real works of art?” Tessa led them over to a wide open table off to the side of the buffet line and pulled out a bunch of different knives, from little itty-bitty ones to ones that looked like they belonged on a slasher movie.

Skylar eyed the knives warily. “Um…”