by Liv Brooks
I eye him, ignoring the desire that thunders through me. “You’d make me late.”
His smile turns devilish. “You caught me.”
I shake my head at him, shivering from the pure want in his eyes. “Later,” I tell him.
“I’ll hold you to that.” His eyes smolder. I grab my stuff and race into the bathroom, wishing I could stay or invite him in. Sex with him sounds so much more fun than being surrounded by my sister and her bridesmaids all day.
I love my sister, don’t get me wrong. But I don’t think there’s anyone who could hold a candle to Damien.
I take the quickest shower to mankind and then realize I’m stuck between options. Either get dressed in the bathroom, where it’s still steamy—or go out into the hotel room in my underwear. With Damien there.
“Crap,” I mutter at the mirror. The longer I think about it, the less time I have to get ready. If I wasn’t wearing the stupid slip, it would be a different story. Sighing, I push open the bathroom door. I don’t let myself think about what I’m doing, because if I do, my face will explode.
It’s ridiculous, how Damien turns me into a teenage girl mooning over her first crush.
I don’t look at him as I fetch everything from the bathroom, arranging my makeup in a giant pile on the small desk in the room. Rebecca left specific instructions, which I can do. I just hate putting on makeup.
It’s already bad enough being a female homicide detective. My coworkers are great, but the number of suspects and interviewees who have called me sweetie or honey have made me hate being feminine at work.
I grab the slip and toss it over the back of the chair, then go fetch the dress. I’m shivering now, partially from feeling Damien’s eyes on me—because he’s definitely watching me—and partially from the coolness of the room. But my skin no longer feels humid, and I feel like I can get dressed with less of a battle.
I eep when Damien’s arm circles around my middle, pulling me back against his broad chest. He’s shirtless, his body warm against mine. “Do you know what you do to me, walking around like that?” he growls in my ear. I can feel him hard against my backside and it makes my heart race.
“I need to get dressed,” I say in the worst protest in the history of protests.
“You can,” he promises, moving until he takes my hand and drags me towards the bed. “But I need a taste to tide me over.”
I stare at his dark eyes as he picks me up and tosses me on the bed, his grin wicked. “Fair’s fair,” I say instead, reaching down to cup his hard shaft.
He groans, eyes fluttering closed before he moves my hand. “Not yet, babe.”
I make a face, which makes him stop. “No babe?”
While I very much would like him to get back to whatever he was planning to do, I can’t let it go. “Do you know how many people call me sweetie, honey, or babe on a daily basis because I’m a woman?”
He blinks at me. Then his grin returns, widens. “Fine. Snookums.”
I laugh, reaching up for him. He leans down and lets me kiss him. “I suppose that’ll do.” Katie’ll find it funny, at least. My hands roam down his back as he takes control of the kiss, his tongue tasting my mouth, his body on top of mine. He dwarfs me, makes me feel safe.
I could so very easily get addicted to this feeling.
Damien
The moment she came out of the bathroom in her underwear, everything else flew out of my mind. I have to taste her. I don’t want to make her late, but I can’t help myself. She brings out that side of me.
She’s spread out on the bed underneath me, her skin still faintly warm from her shower. I kiss the side of her neck, kiss down her chest. I cup each breast out of the confines of her bra, making her moan and arch her back towards me as I give both attention. The tight buds of her rosy nipples are irresistible.
I kiss each one before I reach down and cup my cock, squeezing it to get some relief. I’m so fucking turned on and it’s because of her.
I wish I could take my time, but I know she still needs to get dressed, so I kiss my way down to between her legs. Without hesitating, I move her panties to the side so I can reach her wet slit. I groan as her scent hits my nostrils, and I can’t stop myself from leaning down to slide my tongue from her opening to her clit.
She moans, her hand finding my head and holding me there. I tease her clit with my tongue, not showing any mercy as she squirms underneath me. She gets louder, her cries turning into whimpers, before she locks her thighs around my head and rides out her orgasm.
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and look at her heaving chest, satisfied. I’m so hard it hurts, but I can deal with that later.
When she looks at me, it’s with lust-drunk eyes. My gaze roams her body, all of it as perfect as I hoped. I just wish I could spend more time appreciating it, showing her how much I like it.
She lets out a long sigh, stretches like a cat, arms over her head. Her lips are a satisfied smirk. Then she’s sitting up, grabbing me and pulling me towards the bed. Amused, I fall onto it like she pulled me.
The wide smile she gives me is reward enough.
That is, until her hands find the zipper of my jeans and yank it down. “Fair’s fair,” she says, her eyes on what her hands are doing.
I let out a groan every time her fingers brush my hard cock through the fabric, until her fingers are sliding in my boxers and freeing me. She looks at it with wide eyes, then grins. “I do like a challenge,” she says, before she lays down so she can wrap her pretty mouth around my cock.
My hands find their way into her damp hair, urging her to take more of me. Her fingers stroke the part of my shaft not yet in her mouth before sliding down to my balls, tugging at them.
She’s way too fucking good. I’m not going to last long and we both know it.
To my surprise, she swallows me down like a champ and it kicks me over the edge. She takes every drop of my cum, making sure not to miss any. She slides back up my body, looking as content as can be.
“I’m going to be late,” she says, and she’s smiling.
I pull her down for a kiss. She can taste me, and I can taste her. She melds herself against me, and I don’t want to let her go.
But she pulls back, lets out a sigh. “I really do need to get dressed.” She’s already standing up and adjusting what she’s still wearing.
“I’ll just enjoy the view then,” I say, leaning back on the bed with my head propped up on a pillow. She smiles at me, wide and carefree, then turns back to what she was doing.
6
Damien
I hate not having her next to me, but watching her stand there in her dress that clings to her curves is almost as good as her being with me. Until I think about all the other men that can see her.
I want to scowl, but then she catches my eye and her smile widens. I don’t think she realizes how perfect she is, not really. And she’s mine.
It was easy enough to spot her ex and watching him scowl at Michelle the entire time made me want to smash his face in. But Michelle’s mine now, and the piece of trash isn’t worth it.
Unless he tries to touch Michelle again. Then, I’ll end him.
By the time the wedding and pictures are over, I’m tapping my feet with my arms crossed over my chest. It’s been agony, waiting. All I can think about is when all of this is over and I can take her back to our room, strip her out of that gorgeous dress, and bury myself in her.
It’s not until the reception that I can slide my hand in hers and twine our fingers together until she can’t escape. She leans into me, that smile still on her face.
“I’m not going to run away,” she teases, looking up at me.
I bend down to kiss her, my chest rumbling with need. “Not going to risk it.”
“Cute,” Rebecca says out of nowhere. I straighten up and look at her, but she’s looking at Michelle. “Finally,” Rebecca says pointedly.
Michelle gives her a dark scowl. “Stay out of my sex life.”
“I wil
l,” Rebecca says with a grin. “Now that you actually have one.”
Michelle reaches out to smack her, but I pull Michelle into my arms before she can reach. “Mine.”
Rebecca laughs, and it’s a joyous sound. It’s like her worries have faded. Like she was genuinely worried about her sister and wants her to be as happy as she herself is. “Good.” She gives both of us a smile before her now-husband slides his arm through hers.
“Can I steal her?” he asks, his smile wide and only for Rebecca.
“Of course,” Michelle says from my arms. I squeeze her closer, watching the two of them walk away.
“You have six months, max, to plan our wedding,” I tell her.
She stiffens, then stares at me. “What?”
“Snookums,” I add. Her now-preferred pet name. “Six months. We’re getting married.”
“Are we even officially dating?” Her eyes narrow, but I can tell she’s not actually mad.
I lean down and kiss her, but I keep it short and sweet. “When you know, you know. And you’re mine. I’m yours.” A smile softens my lips, and it’s the smile just for her. “No time to waste.”
“Can we have all the couples on the floor?” the MC says from the speaker, the music shifting.
“That’s us,” I say, stepping just far enough back that I can take her hand. I move us until we’re closest to the exit, her body against mine as we sway.
I can’t even hear the music over the pounding of my heart. I want to run my hands over every inch of her delicious body, worship her, take her, but we’re in public, so I can’t.
Not that it’s stopped my dick from getting in on the party.
“After this,” Michelle promises, her voice low.
I glance at Rebecca, who is dancing with her husband. “Won’t she be mad?”
Michelle snorts. “She’ll actually be proud.”
I last another second or two before grabbing her wrist and dragging her after me. I can’t wait until the end of the dance. I can’t wait a second longer.
The moment we’re in the elevator I’m on her, tilting her head back so I can kiss her. My tongue slides against hers, tastes all of her. She’s gripping onto my dress shirt like it’s the only thing keeping her up.
When the elevator doors slide open, we stop kissing and realize there’s two little old ladies standing outside the elevator with wide eyes.
“Ma’ams,” I say politely with a tilt of my head. At the same time, I’m dragging a giggling Michelle down the hallway. She’s moving as fast as I am, as eager as I am. It takes precious seconds to unlock the hotel room door, but the moment we’re inside, I push her against the door.
Michelle
His mouth is on me the moment the door closes, his hard body pressed against mine. I can’t stop whimpering into his mouth, with the way his hands are roaming, how my body reacts to him. He’s everything I ever imagined in a man.
“Now just to get this thing off you.” He’s pulled back and is looking at the low-cut dress with skeptical eyes. It looks easy, but it’s not. It took me enough time to get into the damn thing.
“There’s a corset on the back,” I say, turning around so he can see. What I’m not prepared for is when he crowds me against the door, his hardness against my backside. I shiver, aching for him. I need his touch on me. I need him in me.
He stays close enough I can feel his body heat as his fingers start unlacing the ribbon holding my dress together. He doesn’t say anything, which heightens everything. I feel like I’m about to shake out of my skin with desire. My lower belly is tight.
The moment he’s done he’s pushing the dress down my shoulders and it pools at my feet. Next is the slip I’m wearing underneath it. Before I can blink, the rest of my clothes are gone and I’m naked. I can feel his clothed body behind me.
“Not fair,” I say, aware I sound like I’m whining but really needing him to be as naked as I am. I turn in his arms, scrabbling for his shirt.
With a laugh, he strips himself until he’s as naked as I am. My eyes roam over his body greedily. I’ve seen him half naked, with just a towel, and I’ve gotten him in my mouth, but this is different. This is just for both of us.
He pushes me down on the bed and hovers over me, his eyes dark with lust. I smile at him, my entire body on fire.
“Say it,” he says gently, his hard shaft brushing against my thighs but not where I really want it.
I whimper, trying to move my hips. “Please. Please, I need you inside me.”
Then he’s kissing me, his hand moving to cup and caress my mound. He slides a finger inside, then two, and I moan and part my legs for him. His thumb is rubbing my clit and it’s not his dick, but it’s almost as good.
Whatever he does, he makes me feel amazing.
“Damien, please.” I arch my back, squirming underneath him. “Please.”
He swallows my whimpers, then his fingers disappear. I want to protest, but he’s still kissing me and I’m still lost in it. Then I feel the tip of him at my entrance, and he enters me in one long, smooth thrust.
Then he pinches my clit and I come on his shaft, moaning and tossing my head back as I get lost in my pleasure.
“So sensitive,” he murmurs, his blue eyes dark with lust. “So gorgeous.”
I’m breathing hard, but I wrap my arms around his shoulders. “I love you,” I say, and I mean it.
“I meant what I said,” he says, giving me a quick kiss. He’s still all the way inside me. “It was love at first sight.”
I stare at him, startled. Then he pulls out and pushes back in, making me moan. He’s so thick it almost hurts, but it hurts in the best way. He picks up speed, his mouth not leaving mine as he plays my body like an instrument. Everything he does is carefully chosen to maximize my pleasure.
“You’re so perfect,” he breathes, just as I start to come around him again. I cry out his name and grip him with my nails as he empties himself inside of me, painting my inner walls with his cum.
He leans down and gives me a gentle kiss before he rolls over, pulling me on top of his chest. “Worth waiting for,” he says.
I stare at him, and then I start laughing. “You’re ridiculous,” I say, but I’m grinning like a loon.
He squeezes me, and I relax in the safety and security his arms promise. “You’re mine,” he says, a simple statement.
I can’t help shivering in desire. “I’m yours,” I say quietly. “And you’re mine.”
A heated kiss puts an end to talking for a while.
7
Damien
I hold Michelle’s hand as the ultrasound tech scans the wand across her stomach. It’s the eighteen-week scan, and we’re hopeful to find out the gender.
The ultrasound tech pauses, her eyebrows knitting together. Michelle’s hand tightens on mine. My stomach is churning. Everything’s been fine so far, but I know there’s so much that could go wrong.
“One second,” the woman says, smiling politely at us.
I watch as she goes, dread settling in my middle. “I don’t like it,” Michelle says quietly. She’s looking at me with wide eyes, and I wish I could do anything to take her worry away.
I lean in and kiss her. “I’m sure the baby’s fine,” I say with a conviction I don’t feel. But I need to be strong for her no matter what.
A few seconds later the tech is back, another one by her side. In an uncomfortable silence the wand goes back on Michelle’s stomach. I’m leaning closer, desperately trying to see whatever they’re seeing.
“And this was missed before?” The new tech whispers to the original one, and she looks just as confused.
The original tech nods. She turns to look at us, breaking out into a smile. “You’re having triplets.”
More silence.
I’m staring at them with my mouth dropped open, and Michelle looks equally startled. “What?” I say, trying to get my brain to work.
“All girls.” The tech’s smile gets wider. “I just wanted
to make sure I wasn’t seeing things.”
“How were they missed?” Michelle sounds almost a bit woozy. I can’t blame her.
“Sometimes, if the babies crowd together, it seems like one heartbeat,” the new tech explains. “We’ll have the doctor come in and talk about referring to you a specialist.”
There’s some more said, but I don’t hear the words, instead still trying to process what the tech said. Triplets. Not one baby. Three.
All girls.
“Holy crap,” Michelle whispers. She’s looking at me like the whole world just turned upside down.
“That’s one way to start a family,” I tease, leaning in to give her a kiss. “Hope Katie’s up to a lot of babysitting.”
Michelle studies me for a second, and then the concern eases off her face. “You’re taking it well.”
I reach out and poke her nose. It’s a surprisingly gentle, affectionate gesture, but it’s all I can do when the doctor may come in at any moment. “I want to have kids with you, snookums,” I say with a smile and as much teasing as I can. “One, three, or more, I’m happy as long as it’s with you.”
She reaches out and pulls me into a hug, gripping tightly on my shoulders. “We’ll be fine,” I say, and I mean it. I’ve never meant anything more. “I love our kids, and I love you.”
“I love you too,” Michelle mumbles, squeezing me tightly. “So much.”
Michelle
“Emma, Erin, and Emily!” I shout as I run into the front living room. Three giggling toddlers quickly disperse from whatever they’d been doing with the ketchup. Damien’s running behind and picked the worst day to do so. Our triplets turn three tomorrow, and they’re hell in a handbasket.
The front door opens while I snatch up Emma, hunting for the others.
“Need some help?” Katie asks, laughing.
“Erin and Emily went down that way.” I point to one of the hallways, a giggling Emma on my hip as I grab the bottle of ketchup they absconded with. We’re having a huge party tomorrow, and it currently looks like someone died in my living room.