He looked at me drolly. “Really, you think I waited for you to be drunk and sloppy to have my way with you? I’m that guy?”
I reached out and raised the sheet to see that he had boxers on. “Apparently not. I was drunk and sloppy? One other question for you . . . why am I the only one naked?”
“Diva, you came in here and tossed your clothes off. When I brought you a nightgown, you stuffed it under the mattress.”
I rolled over and sure enough, there was a flimsy piece of purple cotton peeking out from in between the mattress and box springs. I fell back against the pillows with my eyes closed. “I wish I could remember why I thought those last two glasses of champagne were a good idea.”
“Champagne always seems like a good idea at the time,” Carter answered agreeably, propping up against the headboard.
“Is this . . .” I looked around again. “This isn’t even my room.”
“No ma’am, it is not.”
“Don’t be charming,” I admonished. “I sense I made a fool of myself last night.”
“I don’t find a beautiful, naked woman climbing into bed with me foolish at all. It was quite endearing,” he intoned calmly.
I winced. “Oh, lordy—it’s starting to come back to me. Was I dancing and singing?”
“Most of Justin Timberlake’s greatest hits, I believe.”
“No.”
“Yes, you even broke out some nostalgic *NSYNC to round out the catalog. You have a pretty nice, smoky alto singing voice. Another Kit-Kat hidden talent.” He seemed unnecessarily amused.
“Why didn’t you stop me?” I complained.
“Sweetheart,” he sighed. “I tried. You were a woman on a mission.”
Hell if I knew. I remembered leaving dinner and heading to the Thunder Down Under Male Revue with the girls and having champagne. I remembered stopping at the Paris Hotel where Veronica got on a hot streak at the roulette table. She was buying novelty drinks for the table. I know I started drinking something fruity out of a large plastic replica of the Eiffel Tower. (This, in hindsight, was not a good idea.) I remembered Mom and Aunt Yo-Yo leaving and the rest of us going to a club. I remembered ordering more bottles of champagne. Everything else was a blur. I sat up, sobered. “I hope I didn’t do anything stupid that’s going to end up on YouTube. I can’t afford any more negative publicity.” I couldn’t believe I’d let my guard down.
“When Jewel dropped you off last night she said the security guys we sent with you made sure that didn’t happen,” Carter assured me.
“What security guys? I didn’t see any security guys.”
“Well, if you saw them, they wouldn’t be doing their jobs now, would they?”
I slapped my hand to my forehead and fell back against the pillows. “Whew, I’m an idiot. I know better. I never drink like that.”
He quirked a skeptical brow. “Uh, princess? I’ve seen you drink champagne like that a time or two before.”
I grimaced. I kept conveniently forgetting that he’s known me for a long, long time. “Probably. Champagne is my kryptonite. I try and stay away from it unless I’m around people I trust. It tends to make me reckless.”
“I’ll remember that.” He leaned over and kissed me on my forehead. “As much as I’ve dreamed of lying next to your fine naked self in bed, we gotta get moving.” He rolled out of bed and stretched his arms over his head, showcasing all that smooth skin stretching over rippling muscles. That was too much chocolate temptation for my blurry eyes this early in the morning. “Stop ogling and get it in gear, Kitty.”
I closed my eyes, groaned, and rolled over. “I need two Tylenol, a gallon of water, and six more hours of sleep.”
He smacked my left butt cheek as he strode past on the way to his bathroom. “I can’t help you with the sleep thing, but check the nightstand.”
Sure enough, sitting on the nightstand to my right was a large bottle of water and two tablets. I sat up and reached for them gratefully. “Carter Evan Parks, you are so much awesome.”
He called out over the sound of water running. “Yeah, you told me last night right before you started singing ‘SexyBack’ but after you did a decent video reenactment of ‘I Want It That Way.’ ”
“But—” I stuttered and tossed back the Tylenol, “that’s the Backstreet Boys.”
He snickered. “I tried to tell you that you were mixing your pop playlist. You said you didn’t care.”
“What can I say? I like pop music and boy bands,” I admitted and drank some more water.
“Clearly. I actually don’t have a problem with them per se. Admittedly, by the time the pink bra flew off on the second chorus of ‘SexyBack,’ I decided to sit back and enjoy the show. I didn’t care what you were singing.” He started the shower running and I climbed out of bed. He’d already seen it all anyway so I ambled naked into the bathroom just in time to watch him step into the stall.
Water sluiced down his form and I plunked down on the marble vanity to unabashedly watch as he grabbed a washcloth and soap and started cleansing areas I was itching to touch. He washed shins, thighs, and buttocks before soaping the cloth back up. I licked my lips while he cleaned his shoulders, neck, chest, and abs before moving the washcloth lower. Lucky washcloth. Literally, my palms were itching and saliva was pooling in my mouth. For the woman who was supposed to get any man I wanted, I stayed losing with Carter Parks. I needed to get me some of that and quickly. This peep show was tortuous. I crossed one leg over the other as a needy sound bubbled up from my throat. He glanced up and caught me watching. He stroked the washcloth slowly up and down his hardness while never taking his eyes off mine. It was, without a doubt, the hottest thing I’d ever seen. It was easily apparent how he earned the name Big Sexy.
“I can’t decide if you’re a saint or a sinner,” I murmured, folding my arms across my chest in hopes of easing the ache in my nipples.
“Like you,” he growled, growing larger and harder with each stroke, “I’m a little of both.”
“Do you need some help with that?” I offered, wishing with every fiber of my being that he’d say yes.
He ducked under the water to rinse the suds off and switched the temp from warm to cold. “Rain check?” He looked up and saw the irritation and frustration cross my face. It was starting to feel like he was playing games and I didn’t like it. Not one bit.
Tossing the washcloth to the side, he strode out of the shower and stood in front of me. He unfolded my arms and uncrossed my legs, opening them wide before stepping in between them. His hands bracketed my rib cage and his thumbs stroked the underside of my breasts. I rested my arms on his shoulders and arched into his embrace, craving more.
He murmured against my temple. “Katrina, I’m hard enough to cut glass right now. You can’t possibly doubt that I want you. But your brother, my best friend, is getting married in a little over four hours. You really think that if I do what I’m dying to do, what you want me to do at this moment, we’re going to want to leave the room anytime soon?”
Heedless of the icy drops of water falling off of him and onto me, I ran my hands down his body and dug my fingernails into his taut ass, pulling him closer. We both moaned as his erection slid against my wetness. I was so open and he was right there. So close to exactly where I needed him. His shaft twitched involuntarily and I shuddered in reaction. His breathing was serrated and rough in my ear. I knew he was hanging onto his control by a thread. I also knew I didn’t want our first time together to be a rushed hit-and-quit with one eye on the clock. “If we’re gonna get out of this room, you need to get back into that cold shower and I need to head back to my side of the suite,” I whispered.
“Okay then.” He released his hold on me and clenched his fists as he took two steps back. I slid off the counter onto shaky legs.
The tension between us was thick. We were on the edge of something. Good or bad, I didn’t know, but it was definitely something. I tried to joke it off. “All this unfulfilled hotness and me witho
ut my vibrator.”
His gaze sharpened and his hand reached out to grasp my wrist. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t take the edge off. Keep a lid on all the unfulfilled hotness. Save it for me.”
“What about you and your washcloth games, you gonna keep that bottled up?”
“Yeah.” He nodded.
“Why?”
“We’re worth the wait.”
Dammit, he always said something that I couldn’t argue with. We stood there facing off, naked in every single way in front of each other. No artifice, no guile. Part of me wanted to get an attitude, part of me wanted to walk away, part of me wanted to push him down onto the bathroom rug and hop aboard. Instead, I nodded slowly. “Okay Carter, I’ll see you over in the villa later?”
“I’ll be there,” he said.
“Worth the wait,” I repeated.
“Absolutely,” he reiterated.
I sighed, turned on my heel, and marched away. On my way back to my room I picked up articles of my clothing I’d flung off at some point last night. I yanked a pump encrusted with pink Swarovski crystals out of the potted fern by the love seat and glanced around for the mate before shaking my head. I swear to God, I’d spent more time naked and half naked in front of Carter with very little return for my efforts. We’d only been “dating” for a week and already Big Sexy was the biggest pain-in-the-ass boyfriend I’d ever had. And the best. That said something about me that I was in no condition to explore. Catching a glance of myself in the bathroom mirror, I stifled a shriek. Not a good look, Katrina. I had less than an hour to pull myself together and get over to the Bellagio private villa to help Belle get ready to marry my brother. I twisted my hair atop my head and secured it with a clip. I’d start with a cold shower and go from there. It was going to be a very long day.
11
Send out my damned bride already
Carter—Saturday, May 28—11:48 am
The 2500-square-foot villa had been transformed into a rose-laden wedding chapel. Belle had chosen gold and blue as her colors and her coordinator went all the way in with it. The ceremony was being held in the living areas of the two-bedroom villa. Fabric, flowers, lights, and candles adorned most surfaces. White roses were arrayed in large bouquets and petals were strewn along a carpeted walkway leading to the newly created altar.
Beau and I stood with the preacher waiting for things to get started. I slid a questioning look at Beau as he shifted nervously from foot to foot under the flowered arch some creative person had placed in front of the windows overlooking the private infinity pool deck. It was the fifth time in the last minute and a half that he fidgeted around. Beau was not a fidgety kind of guy. Particularly not in Armani formal wear. He loved how he looked in a tux and hated to ruin the line. All this shifting about was worrisome.
“Dude. You straight?” I asked in a low voice, keeping my face neutral. About fifty friends and Montgomery family members sat staring at the two of us. I’d overheard his Uncle August taking bets on whether Beau would really go through with this or not. I put a hundred on my boy Beau going the distance. We were about five or ten minutes away from the ceremony starting. Reverend Moss had been flown in from Dallas and stood beside us. At my words he lifted his eyes from the Bible he was holding and gave us a speculative glance. We both waited for Beau’s answer with much anticipation.
“Je suis bon, mon ami. I’m fine. It just hit me, you know. I’m here. We’re in tuxes. There are more flowers than I thought humanly possible scattered every freakin’ where. I’m about to do this thing. The whole forever and always, death-do-us-part thing.”
“Uh-huh.” I nodded slowly. “That generally goes hand in hand with the matrimony thing.”
“This is real-life serious grown-up-ness, you know?” He looked like a man who just woke up from a dream and realized where he was and what he was doing.
“Yep. It had to happen sooner or later. Even Peter Pan stopped flying around with Tinkerbell, left Neverland, and settled his ass down.” I had no idea what I was saying . . . just something—anything—to calm him down and keep this moving.
He turned to look at me. “Is that how the original story goes? I thought in the book he never grew up, ditched Wendy, and flew around playing the flute.”
I put my hand on his shoulder. “Bruh, I am not standing up here on your wedding day debating the origins and evolution of Peter effing Pan. Im’a need you to get your head in the game and make this woman your wife already. It’s not only what you want, it’s what you need. Let’s do this, all right?” This best-man business was tricky. I had to straddle backing his play if he decided to bolt with keeping him grounded and here to do what I knew he really wanted. I gave Beau my sternest “don’t make me kick your ass up in here” glower.
He put his hands up in surrender. “Stand down. I know, I know. I needed a moment to take it all in. Just had to get my bearings. You know, I really never thought I’d do this.”
I decided not to tell him that no one ever thought he’d do this. On a need-to-know basis right now? He didn’t need to know that. “Man, you’re almost forty. Your oats been sown years ago.”
Beau pointed at me and then himself. “Which of us is the pot and which is the kettle? I’m just taking a breath.”
“Breathe already, bruh. Exhale or whatever. You are never gonna find a woman that perfect for you who also puts up with all your trifling ways.”
“I’m less trifling than I used to be, but I take your point.” Beau grinned at me and clapped his hands together. He inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. “All right, let’s get this party started.” He raised his voice. “Send out my damned bride already!”
“Oh no, you didn’t!” Belle’s voice rang out from down the hallway. “I will be there when I get there and you will damn well wait.”
“You tell him, girl!” a voice rang out from the second row.
“Man, is your Aunt Yo-Yo already lit?” I asked Beau.
“I assume she’s still boozy from last night.” He shrugged. “I don’t know what all the girls got into.”
I pressed my lips together and looked off into the distance. Some things an older brother didn’t need to know about his little sister.
“It’s like that?” Beau asked.
“Like what?” I asked innocently.
“You already keeping Katrina’s secrets instead of sharing with your boy?”
I shrugged. “She’s prettier than you.”
“Whipped already,” Beau teased.
The entrance music started, saving me from any kind of response. What would I have said anyway? I wish I was whipped, but I’m trying to do right by your sister and it’s killing me? No, some thoughts you just kept to yourself.
The rest of the wedding party filed in wearing navy and gold: Davis with Yazlyn. Dalton with Veronica. Roman with Jewel, Batiste with Katrina. Katrina glided down the aisle in a skintight gold dress that left her shoulders bare and clung everywhere a man wished it would on its way to the floor. Her hair was pulled back and fell in curls down her back. She winked at me and put some extra wiggle in her walk when she saw me staring. “Jesus Christ,” I muttered, concentrating on not sporting wood on this reverent occasion.
Beau elbowed me in my ribs. “For God’s sake, get some dignity about yourself, man. Put your tongue back in your mouth. That’s my baby sister and this is my wedding day.”
“Uh-huh,” I said absently, not taking my eyes off of his baby sister. He jabbed me again with his elbow, harder this time. And I pulled my eyes forward to see Pops wagging a finger at me from the front row. “My bad,” I mouthed.
The party reached the altar and lined up. The music paused for a moment and then the wedding march began. Belle floated into view on the arm of her father, Percy. Belle was a tall beauty who looked like an all-American cross between Halle Berry and Iman. Her hair was short and layered. She had wide brown eyes and a smile that had sold many tubes of toothpaste. Today, she looke
d incandescent. I nudged Beau. “Look at that beautiful girl you’re about to claim.”
Beau stood up straighter, with eyes only for his bride. “Damn straight, I am. Step it up, babe,” he called out. “I need to make this legal before you realize I’m getting the better end of this deal.”
“Oh, I was already knowin’, sugar.” She winked.
He stepped forward to shake Percy’s hand and shifted Belle’s hand into his. “If you don’t look like a sexy-assed Disney princess.”
She grinned up at him. “You know I had step up my cute to compare with your pretty ass.”
“If both of you cake-topper-looking idiots could get on with it, we could get out of these monkey suits and have a party already,” Roman stage-whispered.
“Right?” Katrina said. “Some of us have other things to do today.”
“Other things or other people, Miss Hot Pants?” Veronica teased.
“Whichever,” Katrina said, sending me a heated look.
“I see you, princess.” I gave her a head nod.
“Ain’t nobody trying to see dat,” Beau groused.
“Children!” Madere scolded. She looked at Reverend Moss. “They were really raised better than this. You can go ahead, Reverend.”
“But, um . . . we do want the short version, rev,” Belle said, smiling. “We’re really more about the honeymooning.”
“One would think you two had that part perfected by now, sis,” Davis teased.
“Delaney Mirabella and Dalton, if I have to come up there!” Percy called out.
“That was actually Davis, Dad.” Dalton corrected him.
“Maybe if you hadn’t given half of us names that start with ‘D’ you could keep us straight.” Davis grinned.
“I’ve got you straight enough to come up there and whip all y’alls impertinent asses in front of these fine folks,” Percy announced. Everyone in the church smothered their laughter since Percy looked like he meant business.
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