Flame (Fire on the Mountain #2) (7 page)

When Emilia and Gunner are finally introduced as Mr. and Mrs. Rhys “Gunner” Griffin, the entire room breaks out in applause, with several people making some weird noise that sounds like “Brraaap.” I don’t have time to think much about what it means before the bride and groom take off toward the double doors in the back of the room, which is my cue to follow. On the arm of Levi, of course. Somehow, we make it down the aisle fully clothed.

Once outside the ballroom, we flock to Emilia and Gunner, hugging and congratulating the newlyweds. I, along with the bride and Meghan, get swept away several minutes later for a quick hair and makeup touch-up before pictures, which begin once all the guests have exited into the lobby for the cocktail hour.

Photo after photo is snapped of the wedding party and the bride and groom’s families, in every different combination of people possible, which takes fucking forever. Levi and I never say a word to each other throughout the entire disorganized process, but my body is in tune with where he is at every moment. The magnetic pull I feel toward him is fucking bizarre, and I can’t decide if I like it or not.

“Okay, folks, that’s a wrap,” the bitch of a coordinator announces to everyone as workers rush into the room and begin tearing down the platform we’d been standing on. “Go ahead and join everyone else out in the lobby and grab a drink. It’ll take the hotel about thirty minutes to get this portion of the ballroom set up to match the rest for the reception.” She motions her hand to the temporary wall currently being removed to open up the full space. “We’ll announce when we open the doors. At that time, I need the wedding party to meet me at the fountain so we can introduce you all as you walk in.”

Everyone makes a beeline for the exit as soon as she stops talking, I’m guessing most of them more than eager to take her up on the “grab a drink” part of her speech. I know I’m parched as hell and could definitely use something wet and alcoholic. I somehow get sandwiched between Emilia and her mom as we shuffle out into the awaiting guests, where I’m then swallowed up by people trying to get to the bride and groom. Levi is somewhere behind me, and although I’m tempted to wait for him and actually have a normal conversation, my tongue is starting to swell from dehydration, and that weird gooey build-up is starting to form on the inside of my lipstick line. I need a drink. Stat.

Slipping through the crowd, I luck out and find a bar in a dimly lit corner with no wait. I don’t have any money to tip the guy, seeing as though I was just standing in a wedding and my purse is upstairs in the hotel room I’m sharing with Meghan. I hope he recognizes and understands what the dress means as I make a mental note to escape and grab a twenty a little later.

“Good evening, madam. What can I get for you to drink? Wine, champagne, or perhaps something stronger?” The bartender greets me with a charming smile, his wandering gaze dropping down to my cleavage before returning to mine.

“The lady will have a glass of your finest Scotch whisky; Macallan’s if you have it. Two ice cubes. A water for me.” Before I get a chance to respond, a familiar, deep male voice answers for me, seconds before the heat from him penetrates my dress. He’s right behind me, not quite touching, but if I rocked back on my heels, we’d be pressed tight.

The bartender glances up at him over my shoulder, then back down at me, cocking his head to ask my approval. I roll my eyes at the ego of the one behind me, but the bartender only chuckles and pours me the glass, knowing I’m going to accept it. Pretentious asshole!

“You don’t strike me as a girl who fucks around with that frou-frou shit,” he rasps against the back of my neck, blanketing the exposed skin in goose bumps. He snickers at my physical reaction to his closeness, and I hate my traitorous body for a minute.
Stupid nervous system
.

I inhale a deep breath, which is supposed to clear my head before I speak, but instead, it’s saturated with
him
. And God,
him
smells spectacular. The perfect mixture of new rain and leather. Clean, yet rugged. Soft, but rough. All fucking man.

Shit, I’m in trouble.

“Thanks for buying me a drink at an open bar. I love a guy who goes the extra mile, sparing no expense,” I test him, curious to how this conversation is going to go.

Closing the small gap between us, he inches forward until the vibration of his low laughter resonates inside my ribcage. I grab on to the bar top, steadying my wobbly legs. The sexual portion of my brain fires into high gear as my near future, without clothes and filled with a best man, seems inevitable.

“Still got the attitude, Sunshine,” he growls, his lips faintly brushing against the shell of my ear with each word. Wrapping his arm around the front of me, he splays his gigantic hand across my lower midsection, his thumb resting over my belly button and his pinky dangerously close to my sweet spot. He presses against me in a way that makes my back bow and my ass pop against his zipper. “I fuckin’ dig that shit.”

My inner thighs clench together as the flood of desire surges to my pussy like hot fucking lava. He’s setting me on fire, and we haven’t even kissed. I’m not sure how to feel about my body’s overpowering response to him, but in typical Dakota-style, I’m not stopping it until I ride out the pleasure wave. This could be mind-blowing. Life-changing, perhaps.

“Yeah, Hulk, I know,” I manage to say, holding my gaze forward toward the bartender, who’s doing a poor job of hiding that he’s watching the exchange between me and Levi. “You told me during the ceremony.”

“I didn’t say a word during the ceremony,” he argues, stepping away from me as he drops money in the tip jar and grabs our drinks. I follow him over to one of the patio tables and sit across from him.

After a long, steady drink of the chilled drink, I rest back in the chair and stare directly into his animated eyes, keeping my face neutral as I church my fingers in my lap. “You did. You told me you wanted to see what I was wearing under this dress, and when I laughed at your ridiculous too-small tux, you threatened to punish me.”

He bends forward toward me, takes a long pull from the bottle of water, and lowers his voice. “And you told me you weren’t afraid of me, so why are you pulling back now?”

I’m unable to back down from a challenge, never have been, ever since I can remember as a kid with my sisters. They could dare me to do anything and I would. I love the thrill. The adrenaline. It’s almost as good as an orgasm.

His eyes twinkle with this knowledge as I lean forward to meet him nose-to-nose, less than an inch between our mouths. “You’re the one who should be scared, James Levi,” I whisper, a smirk creeping up my face. “I can be
very
addicting.”

Then, I tilt forward just enough to feather my lips across his before standing up with my drink. “Thanks for the drink, Hulk.” I wink, lifting the glass in the air. “I’ll see you inside.”

An hour later, I’m at the head table for the wedding party, which is me, Levi, Meghan, and a guy who I think is named Rhino. The dude has a blue Mohawk and every visible inch of his skin, from the neck down is inked, so I didn’t ask him to repeat that shit. I smile, shake his hand, and go about my merry way. Thankfully, he’s focused on chowing down on the steak and baked potato we’re served and not much of a conversationalist. Even though Gunner’s colorful neck tattoos are a bit intimidating at first glance, he always has this happy-go-lucky smile going and comes off as friendly and approachable. This guy doesn’t rock that same vibe. And yet, he’s still oddly sexy.

Meghan is shamelessly throwing herself at Levi, who is doing his best to make sure I notice that she’s shamelessly throwing herself at him. I pretend it doesn’t bother me while trying to carry on a conversation with the two of them about flipping dirt bikes.

Apparently, Gunner, Levi, and Rhino are pretty big deals in the world of motocross. A world I know absolutely nothing about. Nada. Zilch. Zero. But if there are more guys who look like these three, even the one who probably glows in the dark, I’m interested in learning more. The way Levi’s face lights up when he talks about his sport, you can tell he really loves it.

I excuse myself to the ladies’ room after I finish eating and end up running into Emilia’s brother on the way back to my seat.

“Hey, gorgeous.” Gabe catches me from behind, grasping my hips and yanking me back into a massive hug. “You look more stunning than ever. Why did I ever go away to college and leave you here all alone?”

I giggle and twist around to kiss his cheek. “I have no idea, handsome. I always told you that you had everything you needed right in front of you,” I tease.

Gabe and I have an interesting history that involves me sneaking in his room when I used to spend the night with Emilia as a teenager. Having a guy a couple of years older introduce sex to me was a blessing. I was always curious, and though the internet can show you so much, it’s nothing like experiencing it physically and mentally. He never instigated anything between us but never turned me away when I’d show up full of questions either. I learned with hands-on training.

Yes, I crushed hard on him for several years, but after he left for college, I moved on like most teenagers do. I only saw him once or twice after that, when he came home for holidays before their family moved away, and we always kept an easy-going relationship between us.

“I can’t believe my baby sister just got married. We’re too young for this shit, right?” His expression remains good-natured as he takes a gulp of whatever he’s drinking. Something strong, from the looks of it.

Nodding, I agree wholeheartedly. “Yeah, I’m twenty-two. Settling down isn’t for another decade at least. I’ve got oats to sow, and shit.”

He snickers and throws back the rest of his drink. “I always knew you were a different girl, Dakota. Don’t ever settle for less than you deserve. You’re a badass bitch worth keeping.” Setting the empty glass down on a table, he blows me a kiss and walks away, leaving me perplexed. What an interesting conversation that was.

Still pondering Gabe’s words as I cross the ballroom floor, I notice a bit of commotion around my table. I push aside my current thoughts and rush over to see what happened. Gunner and Emilia are both standing behind Levi’s chair, crouching down to talk to him. Sliding onto my chair, I look over at him and notice he’s sweating, his eyes are glassy, and his skin pigment is slightly green. I was kidding about the whole Incredible Hulk thing earlier, but now I’m wondering what in the actual fuck?

“What’s wrong with him?” I ask aloud like he’s not right in front of me. For some reason, I think he’s deaf along with his other symptoms.

“He’s running a fever,” Emilia replies, patting a wet napkin around his neck. “He was sick this morning and went to the urgent care, where they fixed him all up, but I guess the meds are starting to wear off. He needs to get up to his room.”

“I’ll take him,” I volunteer, popping out of the chair I just sat in. “You and Gunner need to tend to your guests. I don’t have any family here, and I don’t know anyone else, so let me take him up and get him settled.”

Gunner swings his head around to me, his eyes searching mine for sincerity. “You’ll make sure he gets taken care of?”

His concern for his cousin melts my heart a little. It’s sweet and rare. I’m glad Emilia got a good guy. Nodding, I smile reassuringly. “Yeah, as long as he can walk. I’m good.”

“I can walk,” he croaks out, ending his silence and shifting his gaze to me. “Don’t take advantage of me, Sunshine.”

Everyone laughs as he pushes back from the table. After another round of apologies to the couple, Levi follows me to the elevator bank, where he doesn’t talk for the entire ride up to the eleventh floor.

He slides the access card to open the door, and as soon as we’re inside, he goes directly into the bathroom and turns on the shower. Being the take-charge person I am, I snoop around the medicine on the dresser and determine what he needs before calling room service for some chicken broth and water.

The timing works out perfect, as the food and drinks are delivered at the exact time the water turns off in the bathroom. I manage to not sexually harass this poor delivery guy. He’s lucky I’m more concerned about other things.

A few minutes later, Levi walks out in some long mesh basketball shorts and no shirt, and holy mother of God, I think a moan escapes my lips. That, or I queefed, ’cause my girl parts sighed with happiness. Either way, I’m stuck somewhere between Heaven and Hell, fantasizing about this amazing body right here in front of me, begging to be touched and licked, but I can’t do either, because he’s sick as a dog.

“In bed,” I command, patting the crisp sheets. “I ordered you some broth and water you need to take with your medicine.”

I can tell he wants to talk back, to not give in to my demands, but the fever is kicking his ass and he simply doesn’t have the fight in him. Defeated, he crawls onto the mattress and allows me to pull the blankets up over his lap. I bring him the tray of food, which I’ve also set his pills out on.

“Drink some of the soup; it’ll soothe your throat, and the medicine will help break the fever. I’m going to run to my room. I’ve got some lavender and eucalyptus oil in my purse, which I think will help you too.” Grabbing his room key off the counter, I lift it up in the air. “I’ll be right back.”