Falling for the Groomsman

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Falling for the Groomsman Page 6

by Diane Alberts


  “Are you going to stop holding me captive?”

  He let go of her. “All you had to do was ask, Sherlock.”

  “Oh. Silly me,” she drawled. “I should have thought of that.”

  The elevator doors opened, and he motioned her in front of him. She debated closing the doors on him, but refrained from doing so. She wouldn’t stoop to such juvenile tactics, because then he’d know how much he affected her. He hit the button for the third floor and settled into the corner. “Come with me to my room.”

  God help her, she wanted to. She wanted to stop working on her stupid sex list and start doing the things she’d written down. Apparently if she wanted to actually have fun, it would have to be with Tyler. But could she? How could she hold her head up high if she…?

  Wait a second. A plan started to form, and she ignored the warning bells going off in her head. She knew how to have some fun, and cross an item or two off her list. Get payback on Tyler and Make out in an elevator. Two birds with one stone. The plot had a tinge of revenge to it, but that only made it all the more naughty. How…empowering that would feel. To leave him wanting as he’d once done to her. She turned her head to the side, her heart speeding up. “Why would I want to do that?”

  “I think you know why.” He crossed his arms, his jaw ticking. “You’re playing a game with me. How about if we stop playing, and start having some real fun?”

  She flopped her head back on the wall, her hands splayed on either side of her hips against the cool metal. “But why would I want to have some real fun with you?”

  He cursed under his breath and crossed the elevator, backing her even further against the wall. “Red, you think you know me, but I’ve learned a few tricks in the past eight years. I’ll bet my ass that we both have.”

  Make out in an elevator. Oh God, here we go.

  “What a fine ass it is, too.” She braced her hands against his chest right over his heart, lifting her head in challenge. Hers sped up from his simple touch. “I’m gonna need to see one of those new tricks, because I’m sorry to say, your old ones weren’t too memorable. Impress me.”

  He gripped her chin, latching gazes with her. “Done.”

  He melded his mouth to hers without a second’s hesitation. As his tongue slipped inside her mouth, his leg slid between hers. When he pressed his knee against her aching core, she moaned into his mouth. God, why did he have to be the one who brought her body to life in ways no one else ever could?

  It wasn’t fair.

  The elevator door opened, and he broke off the kiss. He caught her hand before heading out the doors and led her down the hallway, their steps hurried yet somehow in tune with each other. They reached his door within seconds, and he swiped his card key.

  Unfortunately, the walk gave her a chance to come back into her head. She couldn’t do this. Couldn’t go in his room with him. She’d kissed him in the elevator. That had to be the end of this…this thing they had going between them.

  She couldn’t cross all her items off her list with him.

  The green light flashed and he opened the door for her. “After you.”

  “Um.” She shook her head and backed up a step. “I’m not going in there with you.”

  “Let me guess.” He crossed his arms. “The damn list again?”

  “Yeah.” She lifted her chin. “You’re not on it.”

  He closed his eyes for a second, his jaw flexing, and grabbed her by the hand. He dragged her inside, closed the door behind them, leaned against the door, and crossed his arms. “You’re not running away again. We need to talk about this. About what happened in Mexico. You’re obviously holding a grudge.”

  “We had sex. Then we didn’t see each other.” She sat down on his bed, clinging to the comforter for dear life. “There’s nothing more to say.”

  “That’s bullshit and you know it. I know you too well for you to pull that shit with me, Red.”

  She glared at him, hating him right now for trying to barrel past the defenses she had in place. She didn’t like to think about that night. About how he had made her feel. But she knew he wouldn’t stop harassing her about it until he got his stupid apology out of the way. “You don’t know me at all.”

  “I know enough, and there’s something I have to say.”

  She sighed. “Fine. Say what you have to say and then I’m gone.”

  He pressed his lips together. “I’m sorry I fucked up all those years ago. I’m even more sorry it took me so long to contact you again. I’ve…I’ve regretted it every single day of my fucking life.”

  Oh, he did, did he? Well, tough. He could kiss her butt. She laughed, but it sounded forced even to her ears. “Oh, please. Stop trying to sound all mature and responsible in front of me. The only reason you contacted me at all now is because we’re stuck in a hotel together. So don’t act as if you made this huge step. You didn’t.”

  “Okay. Fair enough. You’re right.”

  “Great.” She blew out a breath and stood. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…?”

  He dragged his hands down his face. “Christine, can you just let me get it all out in the open?”

  “Why?” She fisted her hands. “Where was my chance to ‘get it all out’ when you ran away from me?”

  He glared at her. “Fine. You’re right. Say what you need to say now. Let’s do this.”

  So she could hear all the reasons he didn’t want to be with her back then? Yeah, thanks but no thanks. If she needed her self-esteem knocked down a peg, all she needed to do was call one of her exes. She didn’t need Tyler for that. “I don’t want to.”

  “You need to. Yell. Scream. Hit me if you want.” He crossed his arms. “I’ll allow it.”

  “You’ll allow it?” She prowled across the room and shoved his shoulders hard. He didn’t budge because he was already against the door, and also because he had so many freaking muscles. “I don’t need your permission, and I definitely don’t need to air my grievances to feel better about myself, and neither should you. Get over it. It was years ago.”

  “Well, we can’t all be so lucky,” he snapped, his eyes flashing. “Only you can be so perfect.”

  “Fine. You want to know what I think? What I feel? You’re supposed to be this sweet, nice, kind guy…and what are you to me? An asshole!” She pushed his shoulders again and he let her, not even so much as lifting a finger to defend himself. “You were my first guy, and you took me and left. You’re a…a…dick!”

  His jaw flexed and he opened his mouth. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t…I didn’t know what I was doing back then.”

  She shook her head. “You knew exactly what you were doing.”

  “Not with you. Never with you.” He dragged his hands down his face again and met her eyes. “All of my life, I’ve remained in control under every situation. The one time I stopped thinking and let my emotions rule me was that night with you. When it was over, and rational thought came back, I…I panicked. I was leaving, and we were so young…and now it’s happening all over again. You get to me, Red.”

  She pushed him again. “Yeah, well, did it ever occur to you I panicked back then, too? That you left me in the hallway, alone and practically naked, with no one to talk to? I couldn’t even talk to my best friend about it, because she was your freaking sister. To this day, she thinks some guy named Rick took my virginity that night in Mexico.” She swallowed hard, wishing she could stop the words from flowing out. But they were like a dam. Once released, there was no holding them back. “And now I’m supposed to stand here letting you apologize so you can feel better? Fuck you. You deserve to feel like shit about something for once in your perfect, golden life.”

  “You’re right.” He swallowed hard. “I do.”

  “You want to know what the worst part was? The other thing my therapist told me?” she asked, laughing and yet way too close to tearing up at the same time. Freaking fantastic. She never cried. Not anymore. “Yeah. I got one of those after you. But anyway, she told me
I didn’t even want to be with anyone else, because none of them compared to you. No one will ever compare to you.”

  He closed his eyes for a second. “Fuck, Red. I—”

  “No.” She barely resisted the urge to stomp her foot. “Don’t you dare Red me, damn it. Go on. Say it. Say you’re sorry.”

  “I-I’m sorry. I was an asshole, and you have every right to hate my fucking guts,” he said, his voice hollow. He moved away from the door. “You can go. I won’t make you stay any longer.”

  It still wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough for him to hear how he’d made her feel. He needed to feel the pain, too. She launched herself at him, ready to kick his ass from this side of the hotel room and back. But the second she felt his skin under her hands…the desire to kill him faded and was replaced with a much stronger one.

  The bone-shattering desire she felt for him.

  He caught her, his hands cupping her waist as he fell backward on the bed. He looked up at her in surprise. “Red, I—”

  She buried her hands in his hair and yanked hard. When he hissed through his teeth, she pulled even harder. “Just shut up.”

  Lowering her head, she fused her mouth to his, kissing him angrily. He let out a small groan and closed his arms around her. So quickly she didn’t even get a blink in, he rolled her under him, positioning himself between her thighs. He took control from her just like that…and she loved it.

  His mouth worked over hers as his hands trailed down her body, all the way to the hem of her dress. He slid his hand up her leg, making her quiver with need. When his fingers brushed her inner thigh, she whimpered and pulled his hair harder. He deepened the kiss and palmed her ass, grinding her against his rock-hard erection. When he rolled his hips, thrusting against her where she needed him most, she cried out. The sound never escaped, though, because he didn’t end the kiss. He didn’t even break contact as he jerked her skirt up high and slid his hands underneath.

  When he reached the top of her tights, he growled, curled them into his fists, and ripped them in half, seeming to not even want to take the time to remove them. She didn’t know why this made her so hot for him, but God it did. Her stomach clenched with need, and she ached for him to fill her. To bring her the pleasure only he could give her.

  Only he could make her legs shake and her body turn to jelly. He was the one who turned her into mush with a flick of his tongue. Only he did this to her.

  He pulled the remnants of her stockings off of her body and slipped his hand under her panties, cupping her butt firmly, sending a bolt of lust to her core. She moved against him restlessly, demanding more. He broke off the kiss and palmed her harder. “You like that?”

  “Yes,” she moaned. “God. More.”

  He let out a tortured groan, then lowered his body over hers, sliding down her inch by inch. He lifted her dress higher and sucked on her nipple through the fabric. She should stop this right now. Tell him to get off of her and run away before it was too late. This wasn’t the way to get closure.

  This was a new beginning, not an ending.

  A dangerous one.

  But the words that would make him stop making her feel so freaking good melted off her tongue the second his fingers glided inside her panties. He closed his mouth over her breast, scraping his teeth against the fabric again. When he traced her slit, she forgot all about lists or words or thinking.

  All she could do was feel.

  She spread her thighs wide, letting him in without hesitation. When he thrust a finger inside her, she cried out and arched her back.

  “Damn, you’re ready for me, aren’t you? So fucking hot.”

  God, she’d forgotten how sexy he sounded when he got turned on. He spoke in such a way that the sound of his voice made her all the more desperate for him. She nodded frantically, biting down on her lower lip to stop herself from babbling.

  “Please,” she said, her voice breaking.

  He slid even lower to his knees, shoved her panties aside, and thrust two fingers inside her. She watched him as he watched her. Or more specifically, what he was doing with his hand. He looked captivated by the sight, and she wished for a second that she could see what he saw. When he twisted his fingers, she cried out.

  He looked up at her, his eyes dark and stormy. “Do you want something, Red?”

  “God, yes.” She rolled her hips and let out a moan when he moved his fingers again. “I want…I need…you.”

  “What would you like me to do?” He slid farther down, so close to where she ached for him that she could feel his breath on her heated flesh. “Do you want me to taste you? Make you feel good? I need to hear you say it.”

  “Yes, I need you and your freaking mouth on me,” she said, grabbing hold of his hair. “Now.”

  After that, he didn’t waste a second in giving her what she wanted. He lifted her leg over his shoulder and ran his tongue up her slit before flicking it over her clit. She cried out and dug her heel into the mattress, the other pressing against his back. He closed his mouth over her and sucked, making her legs shake from the sheer intensity.

  He deepened the strokes, his hands cupping her butt and holding her up for him. She drew in a deep breath as he drove her closer and closer to the edge. When everything froze and exploded into pieces, he still didn’t stop. He kept a light pressure on her, making her tense up all over again, and come for a second time.

  Un-freaking-believable.

  Then, and only then, he let go of her. She collapsed back against the mattress, breathing harshly. He leaped to his feet and started removing his pants with shaking hands. For a second, she lay there watching. Wanting, no, needing to see him. But the haze of her orgasm faded away enough for her to remember her plan, her hurt, and what she was supposed to be doing.

  And she panicked.

  This wasn’t supposed to happen. She’d known she couldn’t be with him, but she’d completely ignored that in the interest of getting an orgasm. In all fairness, it had been an incredible orgasm, but still. She couldn’t do this with him again.

  When his pants dropped to the floor at his feet, she swallowed the moan that tried to escape. His erection strained against his boxers, showing his cock off to perfection, demanding to be touched. And God, she wanted to touch so freaking badly. He grabbed his shirt and hauled it over his head, his six-pack flexing with every single motion. His skin was flawless, as was his physique. Hot damn, he was perfect.

  She could have him, if she let herself forget…

  He reached for the boxers, ready to yank them down. Even though she wanted to see what lay beneath, she knew if she did…she would never be the same again. She shook her head and slapped herself back into reality. She yanked her dress back over her thighs, straightened her panties, and stumbled to her feet.

  Thank God she hadn’t gotten naked.

  He froze with his hands on his boxers, his hot eyes watching her every move. “What are you doing?”

  Even though she didn’t even want to leave, she lifted her chin and edged toward the door. Once she had her hand on the knob, she turned it. “I can’t do this. I’m sorry.”

  “Christine…”

  “No.” She opened the door. “This isn’t happening again.”

  He followed her. “Don’t—”

  She slammed the door in his face and took off running, not letting herself look back or stumble. Jeez, she’d just been thoroughly pleased, and he hadn’t removed anything except her pantyhose. The fact that he was able to make her feel more incredible than any other man ever had when given a compass and a map was just ludicrous.

  Even now, after having just left his side, she wanted to go back and crawl all over him. Sheer lunacy. What would it take to break his hold over her? Would she ever get over this incessant infatuation with Tyler Dresco?

  Or would he forever haunt her?

  Chapter Eight

  The next morning, Tyler groaned and closed his eyes tight. Christine knelt at his feet, her glorious red hair brushing ag
ainst his bare thighs. She rolled her tongue over his cock, moaning low in her throat. Fucking magical. “Don’t stop,” he moaned. “Harder.”

  She pulled back, and he squeezed his eyes tighter. No, she couldn’t leave him again. Not now. Not when he needed her so damn much. If she ever tried to pull a stunt like that again…fuck, he’d go insane.

  Maybe he already had.

  He squeezed his eyes shut even more, turning off his thoughts. In his imagination, Christine’s hands worked over his cock, closing over the head and squeezing with the perfect amount of pressure. Pretending his hand was hers, he tugged on his shaft even harder, his breath escaping his lips in a whoosh.

  In his mind, she closed her delicious lips over him, looking up at him with those blue eyes of hers, taking him in so deep he couldn’t breathe. Looking up at him as if he was the best thing on this fucking earth since peanut butter met jelly. He grunted and arched his hips higher, pumping into his hand. His balls drew closer to his body, tightening painfully, and he knew he was close.

  He moved his hand faster, picturing Christine bent between his knees with her bare ass in the air. God, she was fucking gorgeous like that. In his mind, he cupped her perfect little ass and smacked it gently. She cried out, pressing closer and begging for more. Begging for him and only him.

  With a tortured groan, he came with an explosive pleasure even he couldn’t believe had come from a fantasy. All from a dream that wasn’t real. He collapsed against the pillow, holding his other arm over his eyes to hide from the sunlight for another minute or two at the very least.

  He’d spent the whole night tossing and turning with a raging hard-on. After waking up with his erection even more painfully obvious than when he’d fallen asleep, he’d finally decided he needed to take care of it himself. But he had a feeling even that hadn’t helped. If anything, it had made the discomfort worse.

  He needed Christine, damn it.

  He yawned, checked the time, and then cleaned himself off from his solo session. Damn it, he still felt like he hadn’t even closed his eyes at all. Of course, it wasn’t every night he got left high and dry by a certain investigative journalist who would probably ask him how he felt when she’d left, taking notes in her little notebook as she nodded her head.

 

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