by Cara Nelson
His hand found my breasts, and he cupped the fullness of them. He kneaded one, causing my nipple to pucker.
“You are driving me crazy, girl. Your body’s incredible. God, I wish I could see what you look like without this dress.”
Why do I have a wedding to attend to right now? Why? Why now, of all times? I need this.
I was shocked by the thoughts raging in my mind. It was mutiny—they were taking over my reasoning and controlling my ship. I had never behaved that way—ever. I was a good girl, I did the right thing, and I most certainly always knew who the man I chose to sleep with was. And I mean always. So how had this man, who had done nothing but irritate me from the moment we met, managed to pin me up against the bathroom wall? And why did I seem to have no problem with it at all?
That wasn't entirely true. There was a part of me that knew I should extract myself from his grip and run like the wind in the opposite direction. Unfortunately that wasn’t the dominant part of me. That part of me was totally enjoying herself, enjoying his hands and his tongue exploring my body. I molded my lips once again to his, and he began to lift my dress. My God, was he going to try to have sex with me right then and there? Was I going to let him?
He grabbed my ass once again—from underneath my dress that time—and I moaned against his lips. It was then that I heard a sound. It was in the distance. Sort of like someone’s voice amplified.
“Wait . . . hold on one second,” I whispered.
He wasn't listening. His hands were still on my ass, and his kisses trailed from my jawline down to my throat. My eyes fluttered closed again, and it was then that I heard it clearly. It was someone talking—a man. And he was obviously talking into a microphone. I recognized the voice, but I couldn't quite pinpoint where I had heard it before. Why would someone be talking right now?
“Oh my god!” I cried out.
That stopped him in his tracks.
“What? What's wrong?”
I pulled away from him and started yanking down my dress.
“The wedding’s starting! Can't you hear the priest? Oh my god, I completely missed walking down the aisle! I'm so dead.”
“Shit. You're not the only one who’s late.” He started to straighten his shirt as well. I made a beeline for the bathroom door, praying that my mother wouldn't kill me.
“Wait! I don't even know your name.”
I pulled open the door, and without looking back, I called out, “Sasha!”
“Sasha?!”
He sounded alarmed, but I didn't have time to figure out why. I hurried to the hall where the ceremony was to take place. I opened the main door and peered in. Yes, things had, in fact, started. How on earth was I going to explain to my mother why I hadn’t been there on time?
There was no way that I could enter that way unnoticed. I’d have to find the side door. Making my way down the hall, I turned down another corridor. I wondered briefly what had happened to the guy from the bathroom. Geez, I didn't even know his name, but I did know that he was in the wedding party.
I finally found the side door and pulled it open. I was on the left side of the hall which was perfect since my lineup was right there. With my head held high, I made my way over to the lineup, blushing furiously. I assumed my position as maid of honor right beside my mother. I ignored the strange looks I was getting from everyone. Once my mother realized I had arrived, she shot a glare my way and then directed her complete attention to the priest.
What the hell was wrong with me?
Chapter Three
I tried to avoid my mother's gaze as much as I could—she had a scathing look that could melt ice. A lecture was sure to be coming my way at the conclusion of the ceremony, and that was only if she planned on forgiving me. It's not every day, I'm sure, that one’s maid of honor doesn't show up on time for one’s wedding, especially when she’s your only daughter. I was kind of a jerk.
While avoiding my mother’s eyes, I managed to steal a glance to the other side of the church at the men standing behind Roger, my mother's soon-to-be husband.
I gasped. Roger's best man was looking directly at me with a big grin on his face. I closed my eyes slowly. Oh dear god, it was that guy. The guy I had just been dry humping in the bathroom was none other than Roger's best man. And that could mean only one thing—the guy was Roger's son. Which meant I had been French kissing my future stepbrother.
Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. And the smug idiot was over there smiling like he’d found out he had just won the lottery. What was I going to do? My mother would kill me if she knew what I had been doing in the public bathroom with that man. That was one problem with affluent business people—they were far too busy to introduce families before they tied the knot. What were the chances that the one guy who had come over to talk to me was one who was about to become related to me? Of course it had to be that way . . . there couldn't actually be some normal hot guy interested in a girl like me. I spent the whole ceremony brainstorming how to handle the incredible situation in which I now found myself.
I remembered my mother mentioning her husband-to-be having a billionaire son in business, but I guess I hadn’t been listening closely enough to remember her saying that he was so handsome or so young. How had he amassed such a fortune at his age? Like father, like son? I had to wonder. Truth be told, they were apparently more alike than just their financial status.
My gaze fell on Roger as he stood beside my mother, promising to honor and protect her. They hadn't been dating for very long before getting engaged, and the engagement had been a swift one. Why could the rich not take their time when it came to love? I could guarantee there would be far fewer divorces. Although my mother adored Roger, and he appeared to feel the same way about her, there had been some indiscretions in their relationship that had caused me to insist that my mother reconsider the marriage.
But my mother loved her life. She loved the wealth, the parties, the social events, and the jewelry. She didn't want to have to give any of it up, and she genuinely believed that Roger would stay faithful to her once they were married. Based on my first impression of Roger’s son, I had to wonder if fidelity was actually possible. Where else would a young man learn how to swindle his way under a girl’s dress as he had done in the bathroom? Was it another case of like father, like son? I hoped, for my mother's sake, it wasn't.
I glanced over at the lineup, and just as I suspected, the guy was watching me intently, a smirk on his face. He was enjoying this, and I couldn't for a minute understand why. He couldn't possibly be any happier than I was to discover he had been kissing his future stepsibling. Or maybe he was enjoying my humiliation. That seemed about his speed. I couldn't exactly expect a man like him to have empathy for others.
What was his name? I had to wrack my brain for a moment, trying to remember bits and pieces of conversations I’d had with my mother. I knew it started with an S . . . What was it? Samuel? Steve? No, definitely not Steve. Solomon! Yes, that was it. That was his name. It would have been truly helpful to my life and my sanity to have asked him his name as soon as he first complimented my ass.
Well, I wasn't about to get myself tangled up with Solomon again. Forget it. I loved my mother to death, but she had terrible taste in men, and I wasn't about to travel the same road that she did. I would just avoid Solomon at all costs and hopefully forget that embarrassing bathroom scene.
“You are driving me crazy, girl. Your body’s incredible. God, I wish I could see what you look like without this dress.”
I closed my eyes as I remembered his words. No one had ever spoken to me like that before. Unfortunately, although I was no virgin, I didn't have a lot of experience in the dating world. A few boyfriends in college, but they were too polite to say things like that to me. That pretty much summed up my college experience. Would they have had I asked them to? Or was it only the players who talked to you with a sense of entitlement?
I wasn't completely innocent in the bathroom encounter, though. I had pressed my b
ody into him in exactly the same way. He’d used the word consumed and then proceeded to perform that act on me. But how would it have been possible for me not to respond to that? Erasing all naysaying from my mind, I let it happen. I had wanted him. But why? He had behaved like a pig, and yet I had still been drawn to him like a magnet. I shook my head. Maybe I needed to start dating more so I could stop daydreaming about a guy who was sure to break my heart into a million pieces.
But his hands . . . the way they just took whatever they wanted. There was just something about someone dominating the situation and taking the lead. The men in my life had always asked if it was okay to sleep with me. None of them had ever taken the lead and initiated sex—they always worried I wouldn't be up for it.
My brow furrowed. Was that my fault? Maybe I wasn't the kind of girl who guys wanted to ravish. That was probably more likely the case—I certainly wasn't supermodel material. So why Solomon? He hadn’t just tried to touch me, he had used his hands all over me. He had lifted my dress in a public bathroom just outside of my mother’s wedding ceremony.
He lifted my dress.
I was having a hard time focusing on my mother's nuptials as my eyes fluttered closed again. The way he had touched me . . . it was mind-numbing. What was worse—I liked it. I remembered him pushing me up against the bathroom wall as he devoured my mouth like he would die if he didn't. He had lifted my dress with purpose as his tongue found mine. What would have happened if there had been no ceremony to go to? I knew the answer to that question, and I was torn between being ashamed and being excited at the thought.
He would have pulled down my panties . . . and then what? Would we have just had sex against the wall? Would I have wrapped my legs around his waist and let him enter me? I had only seen sex like that in the movies. I watched in awe as Patrick Swayze lifted his lady of interest up against that wall in the movie Roadhouse. I could bet girls all over the world wished for a man to take them in just such a manner. But Solomon? Roger's son? No, it would never happen.
And yet . . . every time my mind drifted to my own scandalous bathroom scene, my heart beat faster. The taste of his mouth, the tingling sensation of my body when he placed his hand on my breasts . . . it all made me just a little dizzy.
“I now pronounce you man and wife . . . you may kiss the bride!”
I snapped back to the present. Dear god, I missed the entire ceremony while in la-la-land! I smiled broadly and watched my mother kiss the man of her dreams.
They turned and headed down the aisle, and I watched them go. I looked over at Solomon, who was heading my way. I met him in the middle so we could head down the aisle together. He grabbed my arm and intertwined it with his own. My arm tingled just as it had when we were in the bathroom. We headed down the aisle, and I smiled at the people waving to me from the seats. It really had been a beautiful wedding. I should have paid more attention to it. Solomon and I went outside, and I dropped my arm from his immediately. I had to find my mother and pray that she still thought of me as a daughter.
“Hey, hey, where are you going?” Solomon grabbed my arm once again.
“I have to find my mother. I'm sure she's furious with me.”
He smiled, and it caused my blood pressure to raise. “Yeah, how about that? I had no idea, and really, what are the chances? You look nothing like your mother.”
Was that a slight? What, was I so plain that I couldn't compare to my mother's blonde-haired beauty? The guy was just a bundle of charm.
“Yeah, that was a real riot, I almost missed my mother's wedding because you couldn't keep your hands to yourself.”
He chuckled. “Forgive me there, Sasha, but I don't recall you minding.”
A blush rose in my cheeks, and my eyes flickered away from him.
“I have to go.”
“Why? I say we head back to the bathroom.”
My eyes bulged. “Are you insane? We dodged a very awkward bullet there, Solomon, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“You do know that we aren't actually blood relatives, right? Our parents marrying doesn't make us brother and sister.”
“Yes, thanks for that lesson in genealogy, genius, but I hate to break the news to you—it's kind of frowned upon to date your stepbrother.”
Grinning, he said, “You want to date me?”
“No!” There was no limit to how red my cheeks could get in his presence. My god, as if the bathroom scene wasn't embarrassing enough, I was being humiliated in the aftermath as well.
“Solomon, I have no interest whatsoever in dating you, and what happened in the bathroom was a mistake. It will never happen again.”
“Come on, are you serious? It was so intense in there. We have great chemistry. I say we explore it.”
“We will do no such thing. Whatever happened between us is over. How can you not be embarrassed? Our parents just got married—we were about to be related.”
“That's stretching things a bit.”
“No, what's stretching things, Solomon, is the fact that you think we’re going to hook up. Even if we weren't related, you're not at all my type. You probably carry on like this at every wedding you go to. I'm not about to become another notch on your belt.”
“Sasha! I see you met your new stepbrother, Solomon!” I turned to see my mother approaching us. Roger was at her side, of course, his arm interlocked with hers.
Like a deer caught in the headlights, I couldn't respond.
“Close your mouth, darling. It’s impolite.”
I rolled my eyes and tried to put a smile on my face.
“Roger, this is my daughter, Sasha.”
“It's a pleasure, Sasha. I'm sorry I haven't met you sooner, but business keeps me quite busy, as does your mother.”
“I understand. Though it would’ve been nice to have a family dinner prior to the wedding so I could have met your son as well.”
“Yes, of course. Again, my apologies.”
I turned back to my mother. “It was a beautiful wedding, Mother, and you looked radiant, as always.”
“Thank you, my dear! What on earth kept you? You were supposed to lead the way down the aisle.”
Guilt corroded my stomach. It was an awful thing. How could I have been so stupid? Or perhaps selfish was a better word?
“I'm sorry, Mother. I spilled a drink on myself and was trying to get the stain out. I knew you would just hate it if I ruined the dress.”
“Oh darling, don't be silly. The dress doesn't matter. Having you there was so much more important.” But something in her eyes told me otherwise. I knew my mother well, and appearances were everything to her, even more so now that she was married to a wealthy man like Roger.
“It's actually my fault, Marie. I accidentally spilled the drink on her and, well, we both tried to make it right.”
“Oh, you’re so kind, Solomon. I appreciate you taking care of my daughter so well.”
“It was my pleasure.”
My eyes rolled to the top of the building’s roof.
“Anyway, what's next mother?”
“It's time for pictures, darling, and then we come back for a party like nothing this city has ever seen.”
Chapter Four
A warm breeze ruffled my hair as I sat at patio table at a popular bistro. The weather had been fantastic the past few days, and it was nice to be able to sit outside and enjoy some lunch. I picked at my Cobb salad and mentally savored the sushi I had just ordered. Like was far too short to be eating just a salad for lunch.
On that particular day, I was having lunch with Rose, my favorite person in the world. I’d been in need of some serious girl talk after my debacle at the wedding. She was just the person to help me get through the ridiculousness that was my current life.
Thank god there had been no further incidents at the wedding. I couldn't have been called the poster child for being elegantly wasted, but I had to do what I could to forget what had happened earlier that day. I’d also managed to successfully avoid Solomo
n the entire night. I knew enough of the guests to be able to keep myself busy mingling. By the conclusion of the night, Solomon was whispering into the ear of another girl at the bar, so it all worked out in the end.
“I don't know what the big deal is,” Rose muttered, watching me pick at the salad.
I looked up, eyebrow raised. “Seriously? You don't? I got hot and rather heavy in the bathroom with my stepbrother.”
Rose snickered. “It does sound X-rated when you say it. But the truth of the matter is you had no idea who he was. It's not like you found out and then dragged him into the bathroom to get some sibling action going. You didn't, right?”
I stuck my tongue out at her. “Don't start. I think it's bad enough as it is.”
“Oh, come on, Sasha. So what if you made out with him? He's not actually your brother, and had your parents not gotten married, you guys would be nothing to each other.”
I shook my head. “Rose, you can act as blasé about it as you want, but there’s not a single person in my family—or anywhere—that would be okay with me hooking up with my stepbrother. It's just way too taboo. Blood relation or not, it's a little frowned upon, I think.”
“I don't know. Remember that show we used to watch years ago? Gossip Girl? It was exactly the same thing. Serena and Dan met, dated, and the next thing they knew, Serena's mom was confessing her love for Dan's dad. Yes, they ended up breaking things off because of it, but in the end, they got back together because they loved each other and were mature enough to separate that love from what their parents had.”