Their Wicked Wedding (2 page)

She squeezes me tightly before letting me go and turning to Calder. After all the craziness of last year was behind us, Lou and I grew close fairly quickly. I’ll be the first to admit that we had a bit of a rocky start, and that my initial impression of her wasn’t exactly favorable, but somewhere along the way—I think, perhaps, the moment Calder and I had to bail her out of jail for punching Asher Julian—I realized that she might not be so very different from her brother. And with all of the recent changes in Lou’s life—the baby not the least of them—I think she needs a female friend.

She and Calder, naturally, have had a very different sort of relationship these past few months. There were months—
years
, even—of misunderstandings between the two of them, but there was also a shared pain. Neither is used to relying on the other, or sharing their feelings with the other, but that’s changing. And it’s beautiful to see.

Lou reaches up and hugs Calder. He still moves a little stiffly to return the embrace—this man whose arms always seem to slide so easily, so readily around
me
has never quite mastered the art of familial displays of affection—and if I dare say it, he holds her longer than I’ve ever seen him hold her.

Until suddenly he jerks back.

“What was that?” he says.

Lou is grinning. “The baby, silly.” She grabs his hand and tries to place it on her belly, but Calder pulls out of her grip.

His sister rolls her eyes.

“It’s just a baby,” Lou teases. “Try not to look so scared. You might have one of your own sometime soon.”

Calder shoots a startled look in my direction, and I give a small shake of my head.

“I’m not pregnant,” I assure him. “But I might be someday.”

I can’t read his reaction. This isn’t the first time I’ve thought about it—heck, it’s impossible
not
to think about it when you’re engaged to the guy and going at it like lustful little rabbits every chance you get—but we’ve only discussed it a handful of times. I know we both want kids in the future, but the
when
part of that equation is still up in the air. I want to enjoy married life for a while before we bring a child into this world. But that doesn’t keep me from imagining Calder with a dark-haired little baby in his arms…

He’s staring at me, and I quickly look away, wondering if he’s guessed my thoughts. We’ll have plenty of time to discuss that later. In the meantime, we have a wedding to survive.

“Where’s that fellow of yours?” Calder asks his sister. He seems eager to change the subject.

Lou pokes her brother in the arm. “He has a name, you know. But he’s off working on something special for the two of you.”

“Something special?” I say.

She grins. “It’s a surprise. For
after
the wedding. But in the meantime, I have lots else to show you. You should see some of the work he’s done around here. He’s been working with the local historical preservation society to restore as much of the original architecture as possible.” Her pride shines right through her words.

I haven’t had the chance to get to know Ward as well as I have Lou, but anyone who would endure the paparazzi and worse to stay by her side might just deserve her. I still remember the look on his face when he found us after Edward Carolson’s funeral and told us Lou had been arrested. It was the face of a man who would have done anything for the woman he loved.

And he’s given her back her childhood home. Given Calder and me the chance to start the next phase of our lives in the same place where our love began.

Calder’s feelings about the man are a little more complicated, of course. But Calder was never going to warm quickly to the man having an unplanned baby with his younger sister. I’m pretty sure it’s part of some sort of big brother code.

“Your rooms are all ready,” Lou says. “I’ve put Calder back in his old room, and Lily, you’re overlooking the rose garden.”

Calder frowns. “I told you we didn’t need separate rooms.”

“It was the bride’s orders,” Lou replies. She shoots me a wink. “The bride’s word is law.”

Calder’s eyes sharpen at me, but I just stick my tongue out at him. I’m taking this tradition seriously. If he thinks I’m going to climb into bed with him every night and give him the opportunity to change my mind, then he doesn’t know me very well.

“Oh, this is going to be fun,” Lou says with a laugh. “Come on, you two.”

She turns to lead the way, leaving me face-to-face with Calder. He leans forward and yanks me against him. His mouth moves to my ear.

“Don’t think you can escape me that easily,” he says roughly. “We have a week until the wedding. That’s a very, very long time.” He slides his hand along the curve of my ass, his fingers slipping between my legs from behind and pressing the fabric against me.

“A
very
long time,” he repeats, increasing the pressure of his middle finger until I gasp. And then just like that, he releases me. And the look he shoots me before following his sister sends a flood of warmth to my core.

Oh, yes. This is going to be a very long week.

CHAPTER TWO

CALDER

Lily should know better than to tease me.

It’s clear by the end of our first night back at the estate that she means to have fun with this little “arrangement” of ours. It’s all a game to her—the looks over dinner, the brush of her fingers against my leg beneath the table, the lilt in her voice when she says she thinks it’s time for her to go back to “her” room. You’d think, though, that given our history, she’d know better than to challenge me. Or that she’d at least have the sense to recognize that she’s woefully outmatched.

Oh, she knows how to arouse my imagination—I’ll give her that. By the time dinner is over and we’re heading back upstairs, I’ve imagined myself taking her in a dozen different ways. Hell, my cock has been aching since this afternoon, when I had her writhing and panting beneath me on our dining table. Being back in this house only increases my hunger because it reminds me of how this all began. I’m tempted to suggest a game of Hide and Seek and see how she responds.

But who am I fooling? I know exactly how that will play out. She’ll accept my offer—she won’t be able to resist—and though she’ll put up a challenge for a little while, she’ll ultimately let me catch her. And catch her I will. I’ll grab her and push her up against the wall, maybe shove something in her mouth as I did the first time we played together. I’d torture her with my lips until her body trembled with need, tease her with my fingers until she was wet and wanting. Her sweet body would be ready for me. She’d be dripping and quivering and hot to the touch. She’d moan around her gag and rub herself against my hand.

But the minute I reached for my zipper, the minute I made any sign that this might lead to more than teasing, she’d pull away from me. She’d remind me of our infuriating arrangement, even as her flesh trembled for me. She’d leave us both aching and empty.

She just enjoys making me work, the little minx. She knows I’ll spend the entire week trying to seduce her into submission. Unfortunately, she seems to have forgotten that I always win these little games.

I don’t say a word to her as we climb the stairs. She’s a few steps ahead of me, and she’s swaying her hips more than usual—a subtle invitation, but I’m not about to fall for her tricks, even if suddenly all I can think about is how much I’d like to bend her over and explore her curves in much greater detail. We’ve never had sex on the stairs before. I’d take her on her knees first, then flip her over and try it again with her on her back.

I wonder if she has any idea how aroused I am right now. We’ve reached the top of the stairs, and she turns her head slightly, looking back over her shoulder at me. The look in her eyes says it all. She knows exactly what she’s doing to me, the temptress. I bet she expects me to follow her right into her bedroom.

But when we reach the place where she’ll be sleeping—a suite that my family used to use as guest rooms—I show her who’s in control.

“Goodnight, Lily,” I say. I lean over and give her a quick kiss on the lips. It’s so light it could hardly be considered a peck.

She gives a little gasp of surprise at the chasteness of my farewell. Unfortunately, that sound only makes my cock harden further. I want to make her gasp again. I want to make her gasp when I’m buried inside of her.

But I push those thoughts aside and straighten.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” I tell her.

I turn away from Lily before I betray myself. No, I won’t fall into her trap tonight, but I plan on setting one for her in the morning, when her guard is down again.

Her gaze follows me all the way down the hallway. I can feel the force of it against my back, but I don’t turn around. Let her wonder what’s come over me. I’m not going to let her toy with me even if my body has other ideas.

My entire groin aches by the time I reach my room, and I quickly shut and lock the door behind me. My tie is off in a matter of seconds, then my belt.

This room has changed a lot since I lived here. These might be the same four walls, and my sister might have decorated it to look the way it did before, but it hasn’t been
my
room for some time.

And it will never be my
room again.

While we’re here, I can pretend that nothing has changed. That I was never forced out of this estate, that Edward Carolson never tried to turn this place into a mega-resort. It might
feel
like the estate has come back to the family, but it hasn’t really, has it? Louisa might live here, but she has no stake in the ownership. And she won’t, as long as she and that man remain unmarried. Is that why the two haven’t wed, despite the fact that she’s carrying his child? Because he doesn’t want the Cunningham family to snatch this place away from him?

That question simmers in my mind as I prepare for bed. But maybe it’s Lily’s actions of this evening—or maybe it’s just that this room
does
have an effect on me, in spite of the fact that it’s no longer mine—but my thoughts have started to move in a different direction by the time I climb into bed.

Many things have changed about this place, but that doesn’t change the memories.

And I have a few very pleasant memories of Lily and this room. The sort of memories that make my cock start to harden again.

Even though I’m sleeping alone tonight, I’ve climbed into bed naked, as I always do. I lean back on the pillows and close my eyes, trying to ignore the dull, throbbing need in my body. If I’m going to survive this week—or at the very least, however many days it takes for Lily to give in to me—I’m going to have to learn to be strong. I can’t just go indulging every urge that comes over me.

But really—who am I kidding?

Within minutes, I’ve given up the fight. I’m stroking myself, trying to ease the ache.

Once, Lily watched me do this very thing from the secret passageway behind these walls. She’s recounted that night in great detail to me since, and just the memory of the way her cheeks flush when she tells me how she touched herself makes my cock jump in my hand. My hand quickens as I imagine her watching me, imagine her fingers slipping down between her legs to that warm, wet place that I know so well.

The place I’d be right now if we weren’t playing this ridiculous game.

But I know how to break her. And I intend to take great pleasure in it. I’ll have her squirming beneath me again well before our wedding.

I’m breathing roughly now and growing harder by the minute with the thought of the things I’ll do to her. I’m so focused on my thoughts of her soft heat that I almost don’t hear the floor creak. In fact, I’m sure I don’t—but something in my body is aware of it all the same. I freeze, and though I can’t make out a sound, I can sense her. My naughty minx is here, watching me.

There was once a pair of spy holes in the wall behind me. I have no idea if they’re still there, or if Carolson—or Louisa’s man, for that matter—decided to seal them during renovations. But I don’t look. I don’t acknowledge Lily, wherever she is. Instead, I allow myself to think once more of that night long ago. I think of her eyes on me, of the sounds of pleasure she must have made, of the way her fingers explored her body.

I think of the way she looked at me at dinner. Of the way she rubbed my leg beneath the table. Of the promising glances she sent me on our way upstairs. I think of how much I would have loved to drag her into her room and fuck her until she begged me for mercy.

She’s watching me. I might not see her or hear her, but I
know.
My body knows. I can feel her in my skin. The smell of her is in my nose, the taste of her on my tongue. The blood that rushes into my steel-hard cock carries the memory of every inch of her body.

And I know she’s touching herself again. Touching herself as I touch myself, giving herself the pleasure she refuses to let me give her this week. We both know what ecstasy our bodies can find together, and it’s that knowledge that drives the motions of our hands right now, that makes my breath ragged and her heart beat madly. It’s that knowledge that heats our skin and makes us work ever furiously at that insistent, ever-growing ache. One need, one pleasure.

When I finally come, I call out her name. And when, some seconds later, she reaches her own release, I hear the cry of my own name in return.

* * *

My dreams are full of her.

And when I finally roll myself out of bed, my first thought is to go to her room and show her exactly how my subconscious believes we should have spent the night. I glance at the clock. It’s 6:47 AM. Lily’s probably still curled up beneath her covers, still enjoying her own dreams.

There’s no better time to wake her with the real thing.

I move quietly down the hall. There’s no need for light. I’d still know my way around this place with my eyes shut. I pause just outside her door, just for a moment, then twist the handle.

It’s locked.

I twist it again, then once more in the other direction, but it’s no use. The damn door won’t budge.

Lily has locked me out.

I shake my head, smiling in spite of myself. After last night, I’m surprised that Lily is still determined to keep me out of her bed. She’s stepped up her game, the naughty thing, and I can’t wait to take things to the next level.

I’m still laughing to myself as I move quietly back down the hall. I don’t want her to think I was here, to think that even for a moment she had the upper hand.

That hope fades when I get back to my room and I see the screen of my cell phone has lit up, a sign that I’ve just missed a message or call. Is she gloating already? How cocky of her.

But when I reach the phone, I see that the call is actually from work. And even as I stand there, it rings again. I sigh and answer it.

“Dammit, Jackson. You know what time it is, don’t you? And on a Sunday?”

“Yes, but—”

“I’m not in the office this week. You guys are going to have to figure things out on your own. Go talk to Edwards.”

“That’s exactly the problem, sir.”

I know I’m screwed even before Jackson explains the matter to me—that Edwards, the colleague I left in charge of my accounts while I was gone, suddenly quit; that my team has spent the entire weekend trying to clean up the mess; that it was only after an all-nighter at the office that they realized they had no choice but to call me, in spite of the threats I’d given them before I left.

It’s a disaster, and I’m the only one who can clean it up—assuming I don’t want to lose the accounts I’ve spent months acquiring.

“Fine,” I say finally, managing to choke back the curses I feel like throwing at him. “But I’m up past Barberville. It’ll take me a while to get there, but I’ll be in as soon as I can. I’ll give you one day.
One.
After that, you’re handling it on your own.” I’m getting married, damn it, and I’m not going to spend the week cleaning up other people’s messes.

Twenty minutes later, I’ve showered and I’m on my way to the office. I managed to catch Lily on my way out the door—she was still bleary-eyed and half-asleep, but fuck me if she didn’t look absolutely tantalizing in her pajamas—and though I know she was concerned when I confessed that I was running off to work, I told her the same thing I told Jackson: this is a one-day, one-time thing. If any other messes arise… well, I guess I’ll just find a new job.

After throttling Edwards, of course. And every other idiot at the firm.

By mid-morning, I’m at my desk, and I very quickly realize that things are much worse than I thought.

As usual with problems at my job, they have a tendency to multiply the deeper you get into solving them. Turns out there was a reason for the sudden departure of Edwards—he didn’t just handle our clients’ funds poorly, as we initially thought. There’s evidence that he was consciously—and more importantly,
illegally
—diverting them.

I have a blazing headache by 11:00 AM. By noon, I’m ready to throw myself out the window. I swear I’ve spoken to every single person beneath me at the company, and I’ve set up an emergency appointment with Ronald Marks, the CEO, for this afternoon. No doubt he’s already caught wind of what’s going on. I need to figure out how to handle the legal proceedings from here, and how to explain this to my clients, and how—

“Mr. Cunningham?” There’s a rap at my door, and my assistant—who I was able to entice into the office today with promises of overtime pay—is standing on the threshold. “You have a visitor.”

“
No
visitors,” I say harshly. I regret my tone almost immediately, but I told Nathan I wouldn’t be receiving any calls or appointments today. And who the hell shows up here on a Sunday, anyway? Unless…

“Does he know anything about Edwards? It’s not a client, is it?”

Nathan shakes his head. “I don’t think so. But he says it’s very important.”

“Then put him on the calendar for next week,” I say, trying—and most likely failing—not to sound exasperated. “Unless he can dig us out of this hole, I don’t have time for him. He can wait until after my wedding.”

Nathan nods and leaves, and I bury myself in my work once more. But just saying the word
wedding
has brought me back to what I
should
be doing today—preparing to get married. Spending some time with my future wife—preferably between her soft thighs, but I’m not overly picky. I pull my phone out of my pocket. I’ve been on the phone all morning, but on my work line. In the meantime, I’ve missed two calls on my cell. Both are from that mysterious number that called me yesterday. Whoever it is, he or she has left a message this time—which narrows it down to either an over-zealous phone solicitor or a wedding vendor with last-minute questions. I don’t have time for either right now.