Falling for the Groomsman (7 page)

“I-I’m sorry. I was an asshole, and you have every right to hate my fucking guts,” he said, his voice hollow. He moved away from the door. “You can go. I won’t make you stay any longer.”

It still wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough for him to
hear
how he’d made her feel. He needed to feel the pain, too. She launched herself at him, ready to kick his ass from this side of the hotel room and back. But the second she felt his skin under her hands…the desire to kill him faded and was replaced with a much stronger one.

The bone-shattering desire she felt for him.

He caught her, his hands cupping her waist as he fell backward on the bed. He looked up at her in surprise. “Red, I—”

She buried her hands in his hair and yanked hard. When he hissed through his teeth, she pulled even harder. “Just shut
up
.”

Lowering her head, she fused her mouth to his, kissing him angrily. He let out a small groan and closed his arms around her. So quickly she didn’t even get a blink in, he rolled her under him, positioning himself between her thighs. He took control from her
just like that
…and she loved it.

His mouth worked over hers as his hands trailed down her body, all the way to the hem of her dress. He slid his hand up her leg, making her quiver with need. When his fingers brushed her inner thigh, she whimpered and pulled his hair harder. He deepened the kiss and palmed her ass, grinding her against his rock-hard erection. When he rolled his hips, thrusting against her where she needed him most, she cried out. The sound never escaped, though, because he didn’t end the kiss. He didn’t even break contact as he jerked her skirt up high and slid his hands underneath.

When he reached the top of her tights, he growled, curled them into his fists, and ripped them in half, seeming to not even want to take the time to remove them. She didn’t know why this made her so hot for him, but God it did. Her stomach clenched with need, and she ached for him to fill her. To bring her the pleasure only he could give her.

Only he could make her legs shake and her body turn to jelly. He was the one who turned her into mush with a flick of his tongue. Only he did
this
to her.

He pulled the remnants of her stockings off of her body and slipped his hand under her panties, cupping her butt firmly, sending a bolt of lust to her core. She moved against him restlessly, demanding more. He broke off the kiss and palmed her harder. “You like that?”

“Yes,” she moaned. “God. More.”

He let out a tortured groan, then lowered his body over hers, sliding down her inch by inch. He lifted her dress higher and sucked on her nipple through the fabric. She should stop this right now. Tell him to get off of her and run away before it was too late. This wasn’t the way to get closure.

This was a new beginning, not an ending.

A dangerous one.

But the words that would make him stop making her feel so freaking good melted off her tongue the second his fingers glided inside her panties. He closed his mouth over her breast, scraping his teeth against the fabric again. When he traced her slit, she forgot all about lists or words or thinking.

All she could do was
feel
.

She spread her thighs wide, letting him in without hesitation. When he thrust a finger inside her, she cried out and arched her back.

“Damn, you’re ready for me, aren’t you? So fucking hot.”

God, she’d forgotten how sexy he sounded when he got turned on. He spoke in such a way that the sound of his voice made her all the more desperate for him. She nodded frantically, biting down on her lower lip to stop herself from babbling.

“Please,” she said, her voice breaking.

He slid even lower to his knees, shoved her panties aside, and thrust two fingers inside her. She watched him as he watched her. Or more specifically, what he was doing with his hand. He looked captivated by the sight, and she wished for a second that she could see what he saw. When he twisted his fingers, she cried out.

He looked up at her, his eyes dark and stormy. “Do you want something, Red?”

“God, yes.” She rolled her hips and let out a moan when he moved his fingers again. “I want…I need…you.”

“What would you like me to do?” He slid farther down, so close to where she ached for him that she could feel his breath on her heated flesh. “Do you want me to taste you? Make you feel good? I need to hear you say it.”

“Yes, I need you and your freaking mouth on me,” she said, grabbing hold of his hair. “
Now
.”

After that, he didn’t waste a second in giving her what she wanted. He lifted her leg over his shoulder and ran his tongue up her slit before flicking it over her clit. She cried out and dug her heel into the mattress, the other pressing against his back. He closed his mouth over her and sucked, making her legs shake from the sheer intensity.

He deepened the strokes, his hands cupping her butt and holding her up for him. She drew in a deep breath as he drove her closer and closer to the edge. When everything froze and exploded into pieces, he still didn’t stop. He kept a light pressure on her, making her tense up all over again, and come for a second time.

Un-freaking-believable.

Then, and only then, he let go of her. She collapsed back against the mattress, breathing harshly. He leaped to his feet and started removing his pants with shaking hands. For a second, she lay there watching. Wanting, no,
needing
to see him. But the haze of her orgasm faded away enough for her to remember her plan, her hurt, and what she was supposed to be doing.

And she panicked.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. She’d known she couldn’t be with him, but she’d completely ignored that in the interest of getting an orgasm. In all fairness, it had been an incredible orgasm, but
still
. She couldn’t do this with him again.

When his pants dropped to the floor at his feet, she swallowed the moan that tried to escape. His erection strained against his boxers, showing his cock off to perfection, demanding to be touched. And God, she wanted to touch so freaking badly. He grabbed his shirt and hauled it over his head, his six-pack flexing with every single motion. His skin was flawless, as was his physique. Hot damn, he was perfect.

She could have him, if she let herself forget…

He reached for the boxers, ready to yank them down. Even though she wanted to see what lay beneath, she knew if she did…she would never be the same again. She shook her head and slapped herself back into reality. She yanked her dress back over her thighs, straightened her panties, and stumbled to her feet.

Thank God she hadn’t gotten naked.

He froze with his hands on his boxers, his hot eyes watching her every move. “What are you doing?”

Even though she didn’t even
want
to leave, she lifted her chin and edged toward the door. Once she had her hand on the knob, she turned it. “I can’t do this. I’m sorry.”

“Christine…”

“No.” She opened the door. “This isn’t happening again.”

He followed her. “Don’t—”

She slammed the door in his face and took off running, not letting herself look back or stumble. Jeez, she’d just been thoroughly pleased, and he hadn’t removed anything except her pantyhose. The fact that he was able to make her feel more incredible than any other man ever had when given a compass and a map was just ludicrous.

Even now, after having just left his side, she wanted to go back and crawl all over him. Sheer lunacy. What would it take to break his hold over her? Would she ever get over this incessant infatuation with Tyler Dresco?

Or would he forever haunt her?

Chapter Eight

The next morning, Tyler groaned and closed his eyes tight. Christine knelt at his feet, her glorious red hair brushing against his bare thighs. She rolled her tongue over his cock, moaning low in her throat. Fucking magical. “Don’t stop,” he moaned. “Harder.”

She pulled back, and he squeezed his eyes tighter. No, she couldn’t leave him again. Not now. Not when he needed her so damn much. If she ever tried to pull a stunt like that again…fuck, he’d go insane.

Maybe he already had.

He squeezed his eyes shut even more, turning off his thoughts. In his imagination, Christine’s hands worked over his cock, closing over the head and squeezing with the perfect amount of pressure. Pretending his hand was hers, he tugged on his shaft even harder, his breath escaping his lips in a
whoosh
.

In his mind, she closed her delicious lips over him, looking up at him with those blue eyes of hers, taking him in so deep he couldn’t breathe. Looking up at him as if he was the best thing on this fucking earth since peanut butter met jelly. He grunted and arched his hips higher, pumping into his hand. His balls drew closer to his body, tightening painfully, and he knew he was close.

He moved his hand faster, picturing Christine bent between his knees with her bare ass in the air. God, she was fucking gorgeous like that. In his mind, he cupped her perfect little ass and smacked it gently. She cried out, pressing closer and begging for more. Begging for him and
only
him.

With a tortured groan, he came with an explosive pleasure even he couldn’t believe had come from a fantasy. All from a dream that wasn’t real. He collapsed against the pillow, holding his other arm over his eyes to hide from the sunlight for another minute or two at the very least.

He’d spent the whole night tossing and turning with a raging hard-on. After waking up with his erection even more painfully obvious than when he’d fallen asleep, he’d finally decided he needed to take care of it himself. But he had a feeling even that hadn’t helped. If anything, it had made the discomfort worse.

He needed
Christine
, damn it.

He yawned, checked the time, and then cleaned himself off from his solo session. Damn it, he still felt like he hadn’t even closed his eyes at all. Of course, it wasn’t every night he got left high and dry by a certain investigative journalist who would probably ask him how he
felt
when she’d left, taking notes in her little notebook as she nodded her head.

And he’d tell her.

He felt fucking lousy.

A part of him had to wonder if this had all been planned on her part. If she’d deliberately set out to seduce him, get him all hot and horny, and then walk away. But he couldn’t believe she could be so cruel and calculated. Not his Christine. He didn’t think she could fake the panic he’d seen in her eyes as she clung to the doorknob.

She’d looked as if she was about to cry, scream, or both.

He kicked off the covers and then padded barefoot into the bathroom to turn the shower on. He was still hard as a rock. His body wasn’t satisfied with the half-assed replacement of his hand—and neither was he. But he was ready to face the day again, and he had a lot to figure out.

He’d hurt Christine, and he owed her a hell of a lot of ass-kissing to make up for it. But he wasn’t walking away. Not this time. Hearing what he already knew, how much he affected her, had hurt him more than he expected. But she wanted him anyway. There was no denying that. Nothing would stop him from winning her over now.

They weren’t over.

After showering and dressing in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, he picked up his wedding itinerary. When he got married,
if
he ever got married, it would be simple and low-key. No waltzes or scheduled meals or…what was today, anyway?

Ah, the scavenger hunt. Yeah, that wouldn’t work either.

He grabbed his gear and filled it with the few essentials he could scavenge from his hotel room. Maybe he would pack a sleeping bag and camp out under the stars tonight if the mood struck. Take a break from the incessant chattering and socializing and schmoozing. Just him and the stars. Hell, maybe he could even find a way to get Christine to camp out with him.

They could start over again.

Yeah, he had a better chance of seeing a pig fly wearing a purple fucking tutu than he did of convincing her that she should spend some quality one-on-one time with him. She’d made it pretty clear she wanted nothing to do with him after that come-and-run stunt she’d pulled last night.

Good thing he didn’t give up easily.

He threw in a bottle of vodka he’d bought at the store, collected his sleeping bag, and headed into the hallway. At this rate, he’d be lucky if he had enough time to grab a quick breakfast along the way. He would get to the meeting point, make certain he didn’t pair up with anyone besides Christine, and if that failed? Then he’d split on his own.

Drink. Think. Plan.

And by the time he was done, he’d know what to do with her. He walked in smooth, even strides and squared his shoulders, looking straight ahead for the first time in he didn’t even know how long. No more looking back for him.

The past was dead.

…

Once he grabbed a blueberry muffin and a black coffee from the coffee shop, he walked out into the bright sunlight and headed for the scavenger hunt. As Tyler bit into his meal, he studied the person walking in front of him. She looked familiar but he couldn’t quite…

Aw, hell no. She wasn’t that grown up, was she?

“Sophie?”

Sophie turned around and eyed him before smiling, walking backward. “If it isn’t my future brother-in-law himself, in the flesh. You’re late.”

“So are you,” he pointed out, taking another bite. “And you’re going to run into something if you don’t turn around.”

“Yes, father.” She rolled her eyes and spun around, walking beside him. “I lost track of time. You?”

He grinned. “I kind of slept in.”

She lit up her phone. “I’d say so. Rough night?”

“You could say that,” he muttered. “You enjoying yourself so far? Fitting in with the girls, causing trouble, and breaking hearts along the way?”

Sophie lifted a shoulder and gave him a small smile. “A girl never tells. How about you?
Fitting in
with the girls?”

He snorted. “Oh yeah. You know it.”

“Is that why you slept in? Were you fitting
in
with one a little bit too late?”

Tyler pointed his muffin at her. “That’s enough of that talk, little sister.”

“I’m not your little sister.”

He swallowed a bite. “Might as well be after this wedding.”

She laughed. “I think I’ll pass. I heard how protective of the girls you are.”

“Who told you that? Let me guess. Kady.”

She smiled, her eyes on the crowd in front of them. When she caught sight of Kady standing with the other bridesmaids, she waved good-bye to Tyler and headed toward the bride-to-be.

Alone, he scanned the crowd. He spotted Christine’s red hair instantly. She had her back to him, but he could tell by the way she stiffened that she knew he’d arrived, even if he hadn’t caught her watching. She laughed at something the tall, dark-haired Brock said, and he stiffened.

Oh, is that how she wanted to play? Did she think he would get jealous because she was flirting with another man—a man could take what she offered and thank her with the flawless Southern charm that only a man like Brock could pull off?

Well,
shit
. It was fucking working.

She belonged to
him
.

Maybe he should cut out even earlier than he’d been planning. Escape before Kady realized he’d shown up. He’d find a nice quiet spot, camp out, and relax. Christine stood across the group, talking to Kady, and he stood alone, standing on the edge of the crowd. He finished off his muffin and double-checked his bag for supplies. Being an Eagle Scout had ingrained some lifelong habits in him.

One of those?
Never
go on a hike unprepared for anything and everything to go wrong. He found his lighter, water bottles, vodka, a few protein bars, flashlights, and a sleeping bag. He dug deeper and snorted. So, he still had bunch of condoms from the last time he used this bag, but his compass was nowhere to be seen.

Eagle Scouts hadn’t taught him that one.

He heard a loud sigh and glanced up, squinting into the sun. Christine stood in front of him, tapping her foot impatiently. She looked as if she were ready to skin someone alive, and from the looks of it? That someone was
him
. “Yes?”

“According to your sister, we’re partners,” she said, hands on her hips. “I wouldn’t suppose you had anything to do with that, would you?”

“No. I’d been planning on sneaking off alone.” He looked down at his itinerary, determined to ignore her attitude. Looked like he was getting his wish without even having to try. Him and Christine off in the woods alone. “But I’m not exactly complaining about the change of events, either. I can’t wait to spend some more time
reconnecting
. Learning more about you. Last night was eye-opening for me. How about you?”

She opened her mouth and closed it; her cheeks flushing, she snatched the paper out of his hand. “There’s nothing more you need to know about me besides the fact that I’m not a big outdoors person. I hate bugs, especially spiders, and am terrified of being eaten by a bear.”

“I thought investigative journalists weren’t scared of anything,” he said, eyeing her. “Isn’t that a job requirement?”

“I’m not…except that stuff.” She shrugged and squinted down at the list. “Anything else? I’ll face it with nothing more than my fists.”

“Why did you decide to become a journalist anyway?” He seized the slip of paper back out of her hands and headed for the woods. “Last time we talked, you wanted to be a doctor.”

She pressed her lips together. “After my parents were killed by a drunk driver who was never caught, I decided I couldn’t live with other people going through that uncertainty. That pain. So I decided to do something about it.”

His chest tightened at how helpless she must have felt. “I’m sorry. I can’t even imagine how shitty that must have been for you.”

“It was very shitty.” Her lips twitched into a small smile, but she quickly dipped her head to hide it. But why? He loved her smile. She should stop hiding it from him all the damn time. “So I decided to become a journalist to help solve mysteries. I briefly toyed with being a cop, but it wasn’t for me.”

Fuck no. He didn’t like the idea of her being shot at. “That’s quite the life change from a sorority girl.”

“I never wanted to be one in the first place.” She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. “I only joined because my mom wanted me to. After she died…well, there was no getting out of it without feeling as if I’d let her down. Plus, I had the girls.”

That was probably why she didn’t talk about it much. All the other girls had brought up their sisterhood numerous times, but he hadn’t heard Christine mention it even once. “So you’re not proud of your sorority sister status?”

“I’m not ashamed of it or anything. Nothing so drastic as that.” She bit her lip. “It was a piece of that part of my life, and that’s it.”

“I get that,” he said, thinking about the time he’d let her down by running away from his feelings for her. He wished he could go back to that night. React differently. Not leave her. He reached out and squeezed her hand before forcing himself to let go. “We all have those moments in life.”

She didn’t pull away from him at contact. It was ridiculous how fucking happy that made him. She fell into step beside him, and he stole a glance at her. Her cheeks were flushed, and she studied the ground as she walked. Her toned legs took small yet steady steps, and he remembered all too well what it felt like when he’d been in between them. Now, he just needed to figure out how to get back there…and if he was lucky?

A way to get to her heart, too.

…

Christine tucked her hair behind her ear, her heart racing. Last night had been a surprise, to say the least. It had also changed her plans a teeny-tiny bit. She no longer wanted to keep her hands or tongue to herself. No, she wanted him.

Rekindle an old flame
might not have been on her list, but it was time to face the facts. She wasn’t over Tyler, and wouldn’t be over him until she got her fill of him. That had to be what this whole obsession thing was all about. In order to get over him, she needed to be under him several times. She might have thought it was too risky before, but not anymore. She could keep her heart safe and her body naked…or whatever.

She swallowed the hysterical laugh threatening to escape. This morning, she’d even written it on her list:
Rekindle an old flame
. It was official.
Make out in an elevator
had been crossed
off
her list, and so had
Get payback on Tyler
. She conveniently ignored how much her list revolved around him ever since they’d kissed in the elevator. As if that hadn’t been enough, he’d blown her mind in his room, too. Funny how a life-shattering orgasm could change a girl’s perspective.

She peeked at him. He stared straight ahead, looking all hot and broody. He wore a pair of shorts that fell below the knee, and a formfitting shirt that hugged all his hard planes. She couldn’t wait to rip it off of him. “So, what’s in the bag?”

“Water, flashlights, a knife, sleeping bag, some—”

She snorted. “Let me guess. You were an Eagle Scout.”

“Why guess?” His hands tightened on the shoulder straps. “I’m sure Kady told you all about it.”

“Maybe,” she admitted. “I just didn’t believe her until now.”

“I was the leader, too.” He watched her out of the corner of his eye. “Go ahead and laugh. You know you want to.”