by Zoe Chant
She sat back as he pulled off his trousers. Underneath, he was wearing—
“Are all the groomsmen wearing those?” she blurted out. He was wearing bright purple underwear covered in little gold hearts, with “BEST MAN—USE IN CASE OF EMERGENCY” emblazoned across the front.
“Oh, hell,” he groaned. “I forgot about those…”
“Better get rid of them, then,” Jamie suggested, and he obeyed instantly.
Jamie tried and failed to hold back a gasp when she saw his cock. She’d felt it press against her on the dancefloor—and, hell, she’d never thought a guy grinding against her with his erection could actually be sexy—but hadn’t imagined how big it would actually be.
She licked her lips.
He slid the condom on and looked across at her. “Are you ready?” he asked quietly.
“Yes. God, yes,” she replied, and slid underneath him. The backseat was cramped, but they didn’t need much room. He lowered himself down onto her and she wrapped her legs around his waist. The tip of his cock pressed against her entrance, tantalizingly close. She flexed her legs, pulling him closer.
He slid into her in one slow, controlled movement. Jamie moaned aloud, closing her eyes as he filled her. He was bigger than any of her previous boyfriends, but she’d never wanted anyone as much as she wanted him now. It felt amazing.
He pulled out, still so slowly, and her eyes fluttered open. “More,” she murmured, staring into his eyes. “Please—don’t stop.”
Something flared deep in his eyes and he fell upon her, catching her mouth in a deep kiss. Breathless, Jamie hardly had time to gasp as he thrust into her, again and again. She clutched at his back, digging her fingers into the thick muscles there.
He groaned under his breath, and started to say something, but the words were lost in a haze of desire. The sound of his voice tipped Jamie further into ecstasy, and she cried out as her whole body was rocked by orgasm. A moment later he groaned hoarsely, the sound muffled by her hair, and she felt him come inside her.
“Oh-h-h,” she moaned, small tremors still shaking her body.
He looked down at her, a stunned smile spreading across his face. “Hi,” he said.
Jamie couldn’t help bursting into giggles. “Hi,” she replied, and bit her lip. The giggles made her tense around his cock, and although she had felt it soften after his orgasm, now she felt it harden again inside her.
I guess we just missed our chance to make introductions, she thought without any regret, and pulled him down for another kiss.
*
Early evening festivities had worn on in to late-night celebrations, but now, even the most determined of the wedding guests had abandoned the dancefloor for their beds. It would be hours before the new day began to stagger to its feet.
Which was good news for Jamie, because all her plans at the moment required the cover of darkness. She scrambled around the back of the truck, trying desperately not to wake the snoozing heap of man-meat who was lying across the seats.
God, he was so good-looking. Especially now she was taking the time to actually look at him. This whole thing might have been a complete error of judgement … But at least her bad judgment had landed her with a guy who was pretty damn nice to look at.
White starlight leached the color out of his mahogany hair, but did amazing things to the cut muscles of his bare chest. And his bare legs. And…
A rush of heat flooded through Jamie at the memory of those muscles under her hands. That strong body under her. And over her.
It was almost enough to make her want to stay.
No chance. She had to get moving before the sun rose and woke everyone else with it.
God, this is so embarrassing, Jamie thought. Trust me to spend five years as basically a nun, and then celebrate my best friend’s wedding with a walk of shame.
She slipped her dress back over her shoulders, and hunted around the seats. Bra, panties, check, check. Shoes—one…
Oh, shit.
The moonlight caught a silver leather strap, just visible under the sleeping man’s muscular thigh. There was no way she would be able to grab it without waking him up.
“Sorry, Kes,” Jamie muttered. Her friend had gone to a lot of trouble to find shoes her bridesmaids would be able to wear after the wedding, but … Well, it wasn’t like Jamie’s lifestyle called for anything more delicate than hiking boots most of the time.
Goodbye, stupid silver sandals. Jamie blew them a kiss and, biting back a giggle, eased open the back door and slipped out.
The moon had set hours ago—Jamie had been too, uh, occupied to notice exactly when—but the wedding venue was far enough out of town that the sky was brilliant with stars. Jamie took a deep breath and got her bearings.
So. Car. That meant … Parking lot. Which meant the grand old house where they’d had the ceremony and reception must be that hulking shadow over there, and the accommodations building would be … That-a-way.
Jamie set off on tip-toe, desperately trying to remember her room number. She thought it might be seven … Something? Or something-seven.
Hmm. Maybe she should just bunk down in the foyer.
As she made her way towards the shadowy building, a soft voice broke the midnight silence.
“Jamie? Is that you?”
Jamie froze, one bare foot raised. “Um … No?”
She winced as a dark shape separated itself from the shadows and stepped towards her.
“Oh my God, Jamie, you liar! It is you!”
A warm arm snaked out of the shadows and slipped around Jamie’s waist. Jamie groaned as she recognized the other woman. Lynda Caversham was another one of Kes’s bridesmaids, and one of Jamie’s oldest friends. They’d met at school after Lynda’s family moved to the States from London.
She was also the last person Jamie wanted to see right now.
“I can’t belie-e-e-eve this,” Lynda whispered into Jamie’s ear. Jamie could smell the champagne on her friend’s breath—and the pinot. And what was probably a variety of unmentionable cocktails.
“Babes! Does this mean what I think it means?” Lynda pointed gleefully. “No shoes. Underwear distinctly not-under and not-being-worn. Blissed-out expression. Is the man-drought finally over?”
Jamie grimaced and thwacked Lynda with her one remaining sandal. “Keep it down!”
“Blissed-out expression beginning to look more pissed-off … Oh-h-h, Jamie, you little hussy!” Lynda squealed with excitement and squeezed Jamie tight, then took her by the shoulders and looked at her seriously. “I just want you to know, I am so, so proud of you…”
“Oh, shut up,” Jamie hissed, rolling her eyes. “Like you’re one to talk.”
“Babe, admit it. There is a difference between moi shacking up with some guy for the night, and you doing it. So, who was it?” She began counting off on her fingers. “One of the groomsmen? God, I don’t even know what your type is. The blond one? Ooh—that guy with the eyepatch? You can tell me if you have a secret pirate fetish, Jamie, I will not tell a soul.”
Jamie shook her head. “Geez, Lynd, no.” She racked her brains, trying to remember if she’d seen the guy before he asked her to dance. She’d been so focused on not tripping over in her high heels during the ceremony, she’d barely noticed anything else. “He was at the bridal table for dinner, so I guess he was one of the groomsmen. Brown hair, dark eyes, bit of a tan … Not ringing any bells?”
Lynda snorted. “Oh, you’re kidding me. The best man? Jamie, you stole my dance, and then you ran off with him?” She laughed at Jamie’s confused expression. “The best man’s meant to dance with the maid of honor, you idiot. But he ran over to you like I didn’t even exist. What was his name…?” she wondered aloud, looking to Jamie for confirmation.
Jamie covered her face. “I, um, didn’t ask?”
“Nooo!” Lynda flung her head back in mock horror. “Jamie Sullivan, you tart! I can’t believe it!”
Jamie groaned, her face still in her
hands. Lynda poked her in the ribs.
“Sooo…? How was it?” she prompted.
“It was, um, fine. Really fine.” Really, REALLY fine.
Lynda leered and jabbed Jamie in the ribs again. “Aw, my little girl, all grown up. So,” she continued, and Jamie’s heart sank as she recognized the signs of Lynda switching from Party Girl mode to Let Me Organize Your Life For You mode. “Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Spanksome Best Man, name currently unknown. This is great! I’ll make sure Kes knows to seat you next to each other at the brunch tomorrow—”
“We are not waking Kes up in the middle of the night to secure my booty call, Lynda! Do you want her to go into labor on her wedding night?”
Lynda rolled her eyes. “Duh. I was meaning, we can make sure you see him in the morning. You know. Get properly introduced.” She grinned wickedly. “You do remember what his face looks like, right?”
“Of course I do!” Jamie snapped, glad it was still dark enough Lynda couldn’t see her blushing bright red.
The brunch. She’d forgotten about that, and now that Lynda had reminded her, her stomach was twisting. So many of their guests had traveled for the wedding that Kes and Tom were putting on a huge day-after-the-wedding brunch for them before they started to make the journey home. Knowing Kes, Jamie suspected the brunch would be at least five courses of delicious catering, plus Advil for those who needed it and champagne for those who didn’t, and who therefore clearly hadn’t partied enough the night before…
And Jamie’s mystery man would be there.
“I-might-not-actually-go-to-the-brunch,” she said quickly, the words tumbling out over one another.
Lynda stared at her wide-eyed. “What? No! You’re a bridesmaid! You have to!”
“I just … You know, I have to leave early. To get back to work. Um.”
Lynda snorted. “Su-u-ure.”
“I do! And…” Jamie’s throat closed up with nerves. And the thought of making small talk with the guy I just banged in the back of the car makes me want to crawl into a hole and die, she thought helplessly.
She had never done anything like that before. Lynda was right. Forget “dry spell.” What she’d had for the last five years was a drought. Late nights, lots of overtime, and the only males she’d spent the night with were the juvenile condors down at the conservation center.
But from the moment she’d looked into that man’s eyes on the dance floor...
It was like their bodies had been in sync. Hell, of course she hadn’t asked his name—they’d hardly exchanged half a dozen words. Just danced together, bodies pressing against each other, until neither of them could hold back any longer and they ran outside, fumbled their way into the car and pulled off each other’s clothing with clumsy fingers.
Jamie was blushing so hard she felt as though her whole face was on fire. What had come over her? She hadn’t had that much to drink. And even now, in the sober half-light of dawn, all her body wanted to do was race back to the car and curl up by the stranger’s side.
No. What a ridiculous thought. It was just a one-night stand, and the last thing she wanted was to ruin Kes’s big day with the aftermath of a one-night stand in the back of some guy’s truck. Especially with Lynda around to stoke the flames.
Besides, Kes already knew Jamie might not be able to make it to the brunch. She’d only just managed to schedule time off for the wedding itself. The breeding program at the center was about to enter its most important phase. Jamie had been working toward this for the last five years. She couldn’t afford to be distracted—didn’t want to be distracted.
She wasn’t ready for a relationship. And she definitely wasn’t ready to spend a morning beside—what had Lynda called him?—Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Spanksome, awkwardly navigating the fact that one late-night hookup really wasn’t the basis for any sort of serious relationship.
Jamie sighed, and Lynda laughed.
“Come on, Cinderella. Let’s get a few hours’ beauty sleep before everyone else wakes up.”
* * *
MARK
Sunlight was streaming through the windows of Mark’s station wagon. He groaned, unwilling to wake up from the most incredible dream he’d had in his life.
The woman in his dream was beautiful. Shining red-gold hair, bright blue-gray eyes, and pale skin dotted with freckles that disappeared enticingly under the neckline of her dress. And under her dress…
Still half asleep, Mark dreamily wrapped his arms around his red-headed goddess—and woke up to find himself alone in the back of his car.
He sighed. Just a dream, after all.
Except…
Mark sat up. His bear was still grumbling sleepily, but he didn’t need his shifter senses for this. His truck still smelled of pine, of the trees of his northern forest, still lingering after the hours of driving to get to the wedding. But mingled in with that scent was something else—something delicate, and sweet, and feminine.
There had been a woman here. The woman from his dream.
So maybe it hadn’t been a dream, after all. In fact, Mark thought, as his body began to wake up and send reminders to his brain, he was pretty sure that what he thought had happened, had definitely happened.
So where was she now?
His bear raised itself on its back legs, sniffing the air. Mark shuffled across to the door, ready to spring out and find the mystery woman. Something dug into his hip and he reached down to find a slightly battered-looking, strappy silver sandal.
He gripped it carefully and stepped down from the station wagon, his heart singing. He’d come to this wedding expecting an awkward weekend of awkward small-talk with his cousin’s friends and his own distant family.
Instead, he’d found a woman who—who what?
There was a strange stirring in his chest, in that deep place where he felt the strongest of his bear’s emotions. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he was looking forward to finding out.
“Hey, Mark! Have a good night?”
Mark looked up to see Tom grinning wolfishly at him from the other side of the parking lot. A light breeze across his skin gave Mark a hint to why Tom’ grin was so wide.
“Oh, sh—” he muttered, and dived back into the car as more of the wedding party appeared. Hunched down as far out of sight as possible, he scrambled to find and get back into his suit from the night before.
Tom rapped on the window just as Mark pulled on his shoes.
“Ready for brunch, big guy?”
“Tom,” Mark said urgently. “I met—there was this girl—” He stopped and sighed, exasperated with himself. “Did you see who was wearing this sandal last night?” he said at last, holding up the silver shoe.
It was a long shot. The longest of shots. How could he expect a bridegroom to remember what any woman other than his new wife was wearing? But to Mark’s surprise, Tom nodded.
“Yeah,” he said. “I saw. All twelve of them.”
Mark’s stomach dropped.
“What?”
Tom punched him in the arm. “Weren’t you paying attention yesterday? All the bridesmaids were wearing these. I should know, Kes must’ve looked at a thousand different shoes before picking this one.” He took the sandal and held it aloft, examining it critically. “Don’t you think the delicacy and elegance of these straps is the perfect complement to the playful princess-cut bridesmaid dresses? Four straps, of course. Any fewer would be paltry; any more would be garish.”
Mark was shaking his head. “The bridesmaids? Yes, I know she was one of the bridesmaids, but…”
Realization dawned. Stupid! He’d noticed the bridesmaids were all wearing pink, and sparkly shoes. But he hadn’t expected them to be matching shoes. God, and he’d thought getting his suit was a hassle.
So, what now? Sort the bridesmaids by shoe-size?
“You said she’s one of the bridesmaids?” Tom said, interrupting his train of through.
“Yeah,” Mark replied. “She was wearing one of those pink dresses.”
&nbs
p; “Was?” Tom teased, waggling his eyebrows. Mark shoved him light-heartedly.
“Give it a rest!”
“Fine, fine. What’s her name? Kes’ll hunt her out for you. They’re all her friends.”
“Who’re all my friends?”
Kes appeared beside Tom and kissed him. She had ribbons wound through her hair in place of the flowers she’d worn yesterday, and was glowing with a quiet happiness.
“Morning, Kes.”
“Morning, Mark,” Kes replied, and tapped Tom on the chin. “Who are we talking about?”
“My cousin here has a mystery sweetheart,” Tom announced, a butter-wouldn’t-melt look on his face. “He’s not sure which of your bridesmaids it was, and he didn’t catch her name, but…”
Mark threw up his hands. “Forget it. Let’s go have brunch. If I see her, I’ll be sure not to let you know.”
He pushed his hands deep into his pockets and turned away, shoulders rounded protectively. Behind him, he heard Kes gasp, and then felt her hand on his shoulder. She spun him around.
“This isn’t…” Kes’s eyes flicked between Mark and Tom. “…This isn’t one of those you know what situations, is it?” She silently mouthed: Shifters?
Mark raised his eyebrows. “Tom told you about…?”
Kes rolled her eyes. “What, you think he’s going to bring me to family get-togethers without warning me I might find a bear-shaped uncle napping in the living room? What kind of a moron do you think your cousin is?”
Mark stared at the newlyweds. Tom wasn’t a shifter, but being from a family of shifters, of course he would have had to tell Kes about them. And if they could make it work…
“I don’t know if it’s … If she’s the one,” he admitted. “I just feel—I need to see her again.”
Kes and Tom exchanged knowing glances.
Tom clamped one hand on Mark’s shoulder, and one on his wife’s. “All right, detectives. My stomach says we can work this out and eat brunch at the same time.”
“Absolutely,” said Kes with a grin. “How long can it take to narrow twelve bridesmaids down to one?”