by S. E. Rose
“Oh, no. I know that look. What are you scheming at, G-man?” I ask.
Grant smirks a little more. “What if we can get Maggie to fess up in front of Lee,” he says.
“There’s no way. She’s too close to what she wants,” Harrison says.
“Maybe, but maybe we can push her buttons until she admits it,” Grant says.
We all look at him skeptically.
“We need more drinks. Let’s go change, find ourselves a little bar around here, preferably inside with air-conditioning, and work out a plan,” he says.
We look at our watches.
“We only have twenty-six hours until the wedding,” Harrison notes.
“Then we better get our game plan in place, because there is no way in hell that I’m letting that little scheming-ass, gold digger bitch have any of my grandfather’s hard-earned money,” Grant announces.
We cheers to that and pick up our stuff before heading into the hotel to change for the rehearsal dinner. I don’t know what Grant’s big idea is, but I’m actually looking forward to hearing it.
“Well, you look…good,” Grant stammers as I walk out to meet him on our balcony. Tonight, I have dressed to the nines. I brought two fancy dresses and this is one of them. It’s a deep, dark purple flowered lace over a nude bodice, A-lined dress that has intricate straps wrapped in lace and beads and a skirt, with hidden pockets. My heels match to a “T” because Grant picked them out of course.
I’m wearing fancy dangling diamond earrings, and my hair is swept up into a braided knot on my head. I decided to put all those YouTube videos to use, and I figured out how to do a “smokey eye” and contouring.
“Thanks,” I say. Grant has on a full three-piece suit. He looks amazing as well.
“You are going to have heat stroke in that thing,” I point out.
He shrugs. “The pains of beauty,” he tuts as he walks back into our air-conditioned room.
“Shall we?” he asks as he holds out his arm.
“We shall,” I reply and loop my arm through his. We meet Harrison and Zach in the hallway.
Zach’s eyes nearly burn a hole through me.
Harrison whistles. “Hot damn, Reagan. You’re gonna set the place on fire,” he says.
I giggle and twirl around so my skirt fans out. “You think?” I ask.
Zach still hasn’t said a word. But Harrison nods enthusiastically. “Yep, you know, you’re not supposed to outshine the bride,” he says.
We all pause and burst into laughter. If all goes well, there won’t be a bride.
Chapter 17
Zach
We find a bar off the beaten path and order drinks.
“So, what’s the plan?” I ask Grant. I keep glancing over at Reagan. I can’t help it. She looks like a goddess. She’s the most perfect-looking creature I’ve ever seen in my life. Up until this point, I’ve been intrigued by her, attracted to her, even amused by her, but now…I’m completely besotted. I hope I don’t fuck up whatever this game plan is because all I want to do is take her back to the hotel room and peel that dress off her before worshipping her body all night long.
I hear Grant beginning to speak, and I force myself to focus back on him.
“…so, I think the best time to get him alone is tomorrow before the wedding. I should probably be the one to talk to him,” he says.
“You can play my audio if he doubts you,” Reagan adds.
Grant nods.
“What do you think your grandmother will do?” Harrison asks.
“She’s going to shit a brick,” Grant says. “It’s not going to be pretty, but I think when she hears of the faux pregnancy, she may change her mind about Maggie.”
“Let’s hope so,” I say. We down our drinks before we head off to the rehearsal.
The wedding rehearsal is down at the beach and then dinner is at a restaurant with windows spanning the ocean. I stand off to the side as a wedding coordinator gives everyone directions. Thankfully, the sun is starting to set, so the temperature becomes more bearable.
I do my part as the wedding coordinator instructs. I walk Number 2 down the aisle, which is really just a flat surface laid out in the sand between some chairs. It’s beautiful down by the beach and the colors of the sky are starting to change into hues of pinks and purples as the sun lowers. Seagulls squawk as they fly by and a pelican dives into the water. The ceremony is short, only about ten or fifteen minutes. The whole rehearsal ends after twenty minutes and everyone makes their way to the restaurant.
“Have I mentioned how much I love air-conditioning?” Harrison says as we enter the restaurant.
“Perhaps, once or twice,” I say.
Reagan and Grant aren’t far behind us, I notice we are all at the same table. We pick up champagne as we walk toward our seats.
When we’ve sat down, Grant raises his glass. “To mutiny,” he says.
Reagan rolls her eyes. “To insidious plans,” she adds.
“To intergalactic domination,” Harrison says.
And with that we all laugh.
The dinner is long. There’s a million speeches, toasts, and courses of food. By ten o’clock, I’m ready for the party to be over. But then there’s dancing. Harrison grabs Reagan before I can do anything about it. I’m left at the table with Grant.
“You know, she loves you right?” I say to Grant. There’s no one else around us. I’ve been wanting to call him out on his behavior for a while now.
“I know,” he says sheepishly.
“You also know that you act like a real jerk toward her at times?” I point out.
He gives me a sharp look that fades into something else. He looks away, toward Reagan and I follow his gaze. Reagan is leaning her head back laughing at something Harrison has just said to her. She looks carefree and breathtaking. I notice other men in the room looking toward her like she’s a beacon of light on a cloudy night.
Grant clears his throat. “I suppose you are correct. I should be better with her. She deserves the best,” he admits. “Honestly? She’s more like my sister than even Beth is. That’s probably why I treat her the way I do.”
I nod. “Just, be careful with her. I think she’s more cracked inside than a piece of old glass. She just doesn’t show it,” I say.
“You’re insightful for someone who’s only known her a few days,” Grant observes.
“Maybe, but I’ve grown quite fond of her over those few days,” I admit.
“I’ve noticed. Just don’t hurt her, or I’ll have to have you killed,” Grant says, his voice low and I almost believe him for a long second until he winks at me. I roll my eyes.
“You should go rescue her from Harrison,” I say. He nods and walks out to take Reagan in his arms. I’m jealous. I want Reagan to be in my arms, but I can’t do that. No sooner do I think that when Number 2, whose name I really should learn, comes to ask if I want to dance. I oblige and escort her to the dance floor.
The dancing goes on for a while, and then finally the night ends. Lee, who had originally said we should all go clubbing, comes up to me to say that Maggie is tired and that he’s going to turn in early with her. I do my best to act understanding but inside I’m raging.
By the time we get back to the room, I’ll admit, I’m a little nervous. I’m about to ruin one of my closest friend’s weddings.
“Are you nervous for tomorrow?” I blurt out as we approach the rooms. Harrison, Grant, and Reagan all stop and look at me.
Grant lets out a deep breath.
“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t,” he says. “Lee’s a good guy. OK, he can be a bit of an ass at times, but he means well. This could crush him.”
Harrison sighs. “We have to do it. We can’t let Maggie marry him.”
“I agree,” Reagan says. “It’s awful but letting him marry Maggie is even worse. We have to tell him. If he decides to go through with it after that, then it’s on him.”
“I didn’t consider that,” Grant says.
“Conside
r what?” Harrison asks.
“That he would decide to marry her anyhow,” Grant replies with a frown.
“I mean, it’s a real possibility,” Reagan responds.
“I suppose so,” Grant says, his frown deepening.
“Oh, that reminds me, I need to look at that document you sent me. Damn, it completely slipped my mind. I’ll do it now,” she says, walking toward her room.
I’m unsure of what to do for a moment. I want to follow her to her room, but I don’t know if that’s what she wants. And I certainly don’t want to intrude.
“You coming?” she turns to ask me as she opens the door. I turn and look at Harrison and Grant who give me sheepish smiles. I roll my eyes for the millionth time on the trip and follow Reagan into her room.
She tosses off her heels and walks over to a laptop sitting on a table. She powers it up and logs into the internet. I loosen my tie and pour us each a drink. I hand it to her, and she accepts it blindly as she types in passwords.
I sit on the edge of the bed and watch her. She’s quiet for a long time, scrolling through what Grant has sent. I see her leg tap nervously about halfway through it and she curses under her breath.
She picks up her phone and places a call.
“Hey, can you take a look at something for me?” she asks to whoever answers. “Yeah, it’s a document Grandma Satan gave Grant. Read the third paragraph on page three very carefully and then call me back. I will. Talk to you soon.”
She hits send on an email. And sits tapping her finger on one hand, while absentmindedly taking sips of the drink I handed her with her other hand. I don’t say anything. I lean back against the headboard and watch.
“It’ll just be a minute,” she says to me.
“Take your time,” I reply as I sip my drink.
A moment later her phone rings.
“Hey, what do you think?” she asks. “Yeah, that’s what I thought too. Uh huh. Right? I know. OK. Thanks, I owe you one. Whatever. OK. Bye.”
She spins around her chair. She has a frown on her face.
“What?” I ask her, sitting up on the bed.
“That was my brother. Contracts and estates are more his line of work. But he agrees with what my interpretation of the document is, and it’s not good,” she says.
“What does it say?” I ask her.
Her frown deepens.
“In layman terms, she’s writing him out of his inheritance if the company is no longer owned by their family,” she says.
“Whoa, seriously?” I ask.
She nods, chewing on her bottom lip. “I need to talk with Grant, pronto,” she says as she picks up her phone and sends a text, presumably to him.
A minute later there’s a knock at the door, and Grant sticks his head in.
“Everyone decent?” he asks.
“Just come in,” Reagan hisses. Harrison follows after Grant, and they take a seat across from the bed.
“What’s the verdict, doctor?” Grant says. He looks at Reagan. “Shit, that bad.”
She nods. “Yes, that bad,” she replies. “Grant, Grandma Satan is going to remove your inheritance if this merger goes through.”
Grant’s smile disappears, and his face goes white. “What do you mean?” he asks.
She pulls up the document and motions him over to her. He walks slowly and leans down with a hand on the table next to her.
“See, read that,” she says.
He takes a moment and curses. “Shit,” he swears.
“Exactly. I had to read it five times because I wasn’t sure it said what I thought it said. Then I sent it to Owen and he agreed,” she explains.
“Fuck. She wants me to sign that shit tomorrow,” he curses.
“Don’t do it,” she says.
“Easy for you to say,” he grumbles. “Shit!” he yells.
“We need to figure this out and fast,” Harrison says.
“Do you think the rest of your family got these too?” Reagan asks him.
Grant looks up at her. “I…don't know,” he replies.
“Also, look at this. I found the wording a bit odd,” she says. “I mean, for an amendment document.”
Grant reads what she points to and frowns. “That is odd,” he says. “I mean, why would she even write that here, of course, she’s getting money.”
“I don’t know. Can I dig some more?” she asks.
“By you, do you mean your law clerk or your brother?” he asks.
She shrugs. “It shouldn’t take long,” she says.
“Fine, if you must,” he replies.
“Sorry to put a bigger damper on the evening. I know we’d talked about going clubbing again, but I’m exhausted,” she says.
“We should all probably get a good night of sleep,” I add.
“I think that you’re right,” Harrison says. “Let’s reconvene in the morning and figure out what to do next.”
I nod and Grand and Harrison excuse themselves. Reagan gives Grant a hug at the door and whispers something in his ear. He nods and kisses her cheek before she shuts the door and locks it.
I look at Reagan as she rubs her foot. She looks tired and worried.
Instinctually, I walk over to her and wrap my arms around her. She stiffens for a moment before sinking into my arms and leaning her head against my chest. I kiss the top of her head and she squeezes me around the waist.
“Let’s get to bed,” I say. “It’s been a long day. And, if I was a betting man, I’d bet that tomorrow will be even longer.”
She nods against my chest.
“I was only prepared to be the decoy on this trip. It’s turned out to be a lot more involved than smiling and looking pretty,” she says, her voice muffled against my shirt.
She leans back and looks up at me, smiling warily. I bend and kiss the top of her nose.
“Can you unzip me?” she asks, turning in my arms so that I can assist her. I slowly pull down the zipper, revealing her smooth, silky skin inch by inch.
I lay a light kiss on her shoulder, and she lets the dress drop to the floor. It’s then I realize she’s not wearing any underwear. I grin.
She turns her head as she walks toward the bathroom. “You coming?” she asks.
I quickly strip and follow her inside the shower.
“No underwear?” I ask as she grabs the soap and removes her makeup.
She turns after rinsing her face. “Nope,” she says.
“Sexy,” I reply.
“Honestly? It’s too fucking hot here,” she says with a laugh. I can’t help but laugh too. It is too fucking hot here.
We soap and rinse quickly, and I help her wash her hair again. Her moans have me at full attention, well, a certain part of me at full attention. I’m really trying to be a gentleman, but damn it if she isn’t making it very hard…pun intended.
I turn off the shower, and we dry before walking back into the bedroom.
“We really should get some sleep,” I say.
She lets her towel fall to the ground. “We can sleep when we’re dead,” she says with a smirk.
I want to have restraint, control, willpower, but right now looking at her amazing body, I have zero.
“Fuck it,” I mutter and take three steps toward her. I run my hands down her arms, her torso, and then grab her hips, pulling her flush against me.
“You are most unexpected, Ms. Monroe,” I say to her, our lips only millimeters apart.
“As are you, Mr. Adams,” she says as she closes the distance between our faces. Her lips are soft against mine.
I pick her up, and she wraps her legs around my waist. My towel falls to the floor. She grinds her center against my rock-hard dick, and I’m lost in her. I tilt my head and thrust my pelvis. She moans, and I slide my tongue inside her mouth. It only takes a second before we are frantic, wild in our movements. Her arms lock around my neck and her legs press harder against my waist. She’s so wet, I feel it against me, and I groan and nip her bottom lip. I need inside her
…now.
I turn us and throw her on the bed. She lands with a thud and giggles as I reach for a condom. I put it on in record time and crawl up the bed, her legs spread and inviting me. I can’t help it, I lean down and lick her swollen, wet, pink skin. She tastes of salt, honey, and a flavor unique to her that was made just for me.
She bucks wildly at my face and grabs my hair. I look up and her head is thrown back, her mouth opens in a silent cry, and she looks sexy as fucking hell.
I suck on her clit once more as I thrust two fingers inside her, stretching her tight entrance so I can pound into her in three…I kiss her belly…two…I kiss her breasts…one…I slam home.
“Fuck,” I grunt out as I thrust again. She feels so amazing. I mean, yes, I love sex, and other women have felt amazing too, but this…this is on another level. It’s like her pussy was engineered just for my cock.
“Zach,” she cries out as I tilt her pelvis with my hands and slam deeper inside her, feeling the neck of her womb with the tip of my cock. I make small circles against it, and she whimpers. Her body begins to shake violently.
“Yes,” she cries out over and over again. I keep the motion up until she screams out an incoherent version of my name and stills beneath me. Her inner muscles are spasming around me and that drives me over the edge. I thrust harder and faster over and over until I feel myself on the brink and then I let go, calling her name out into the void of the hotel room.
I collapse on her, letting my full weight push her into the mattress. She sighs a contented sigh, and I chuckle as I kiss her neck and breathe the scent of sex in the air.
I roll over and throw away the condom. I get up and grab a hand towel and dampen it. I wipe her off, and she hums her appreciation while keeping her eyes tightly shut.
I laugh and toss the towel on the floor, crawling into bed beside her and turning the light off before hulling her up against me. She wraps her limbs around me and tucks her head under my chin.
“Goodnight, my little monkey,” I say softly as I kiss the top of her head.
“Goo-ight,” she says, her words muffled against my chest.
I tighten my arms around her and listen to her breathing slow. At some point, I fall asleep.
Reagan