“Oh, I fell asleep with no trouble at all. But I woke up again at four in the morning. It worked out okay, though. Eli was too excited to sleep and when I heard him moving around, I suggested we go to the Hash Brown Hut like we used to back in the day.”
She wrinkled her nose at the mention of the twenty-four-hour diner, known for their breakfast-only menu and food so greasy that even the air was slimy with it. She’d only been once, with some drunk friends in college during finals week; she’d still had the indigestion to remember them by when they went home for the summer. “What kind of best man takes the groom to get food poisoning on the morning of his wedding?”
“You don’t like the Hut?” He gave her a chiding look. “It’s an Atlanta landmark.”
“So is the Center for Disease Control, but I don’t go there to eat, either.”
He guffawed at that.
“Ms. Hayes?” One of the catering staff approached, an apprehensive expression on his face. “There’s a slight situation with the desserts.”
She frowned. “How slight?” With a hand on his shoulder to lead him to the side—one did not discuss potential problems in front of the guests—she flashed Daniel a contrite smile.
He gave an understanding nod and merged back into the throng, leaving her to do her job. The next hour passed quickly as she dealt with dessert issues, made some last-minute seating adjustments before dinner was served and conferred with the DJ about the chosen songs for the couple’s first dance and the father-daughter dance that would make everyone cry; she also chatted with him about an upcoming event she wanted to contract him for.
She was standing at the back of the candlelit room, surveying to make sure no one needed anything, when Daniel rose to give his toast. For all that he claimed not to enjoy crowded social situations, he seemed perfectly at ease speaking in front of everyone. She supposed teaching helped with that. He took the time-honored approach of opening with a joke, one that was safely acceptable—even for a Keegan—but funny enough to draw legitimate laughter. After that, his words quickly turned heartfelt; it was clear Bex and Eli meant a lot to him. But as he discussed the sacred importance of marriage, of finding the right partner to share one’s life with, Mia’s stomach knotted.
On their first date, he’d told her he’d just been through a breakup. With a woman I’d been seeing on-and-off since middle school. He’d said it casually, but marriage was a permanent proposition, not one he would take lightly. Mia couldn’t help wondering about the unseen woman who’d meant enough to him that he’d proposed. Was it possible he still loved her?
Daniel was a highly principled man. Mia wasn’t sure he’d be able to do all of the things—say all of the things—he had to her if his heart belonged to someone else. Still, that didn’t mean he was over Felicity. Maybe that’s what his affair with Mia and his wildly uncharacteristic behavior were about; she’d seen Wren and Shannon act out after breakups, redefining or reclaiming their identity outside of couplehood. Hell, she’d been through it herself, although Mia had been so focused on establishing her company, it had been a while since she’d had a real relationship.
Just don’t get any crazy ideas about this being one.
She and Daniel generated sparks, and she didn’t want to give that up too soon. But in the long run? They’d drive each other insane. Years from now, he would marry someone more suitable. Mia could just imagine their country club reception.
After toasts from the maid of honor and both fathers, it was time to cut the cake. Mia had been to weddings where the bride and groom thought it was funny to mash cake into each other’s faces, but either Bex and Eli were too classy for that or they were just in a hurry to get to the dancing. They’d taken swing lessons last fall especially for their introductory dance; Bex admitted it hadn’t been easy to juggle the classes with her schedule at the hospital but, “That’s the point, right? If you love someone, you make the time.” That philosophy would serve the Wallaces well in their new life together.
The couple’s first dance was as showstopping as they could have hoped for; given Eli’s notable height and strength, he was able to pick Bex up and toss her around as if she barely weighed a thing. What woman wouldn’t enjoy that? Soon, other guests had kicked off their shoes and taken to the floor. Daniel hung back. He’d left his jacket on his chair, but looked otherwise freshly pressed in his suit and tie. Mia felt the now familiar compulsion to disrupt all that crisp perfection. She wanted to see him with his hair mussed, his shirt creased from holding her tight against him.
She was so taken by the mental image that when he walked up to her, it was all she could do not to immediately tousle his hair into disarray.
“Full disclosure,” he said grimly, “I don’t enjoy dancing. I’m good at it, technically. Cotillion was a required part of my adolescence.”
“Ugh. No wonder you don’t enjoy it. Remind me to take you to a club some night with a deep, throbbing bass you can feel through the floor and dim lighting that encourages illicit acts.” She grabbed his tie and tugged him closer. “I’ll show you what real dancing is like.”
“Does it have to be a club?” His voice lowered. “Maybe you could give me lessons at my apartment.”
“And would we be naked during these lessons?” she asked laughingly.
“I...” His eyes were glazed with desire. “What were we talking about? I heard ‘naked’ and everything else is a meaningless buzz.”
“You were telling me you don’t like to dance.”
“Right.” He glanced toward the enthusiastic participants out on the floor. “But if you want to, I—”
“Ms. Hayes?”
Mia turned, her eyes narrowing as she identified the speaker. “You.” It was Eli’s cousin Terrence, who’d told her at the bachelor party that he thought she was even prettier than the dancers on stage—but that he’d need to see her undressed to judge for sure. He’d also suggested, with a lewd gesture at his crotch, that if her skimpy outfit wasn’t keeping her warm enough, he had just the thing to heat up her night. It was good Daniel had come along and dragged Terrence bodily from the party, or she might have resorted to violence.
Now, Daniel put his arm around her shoulder, pulling her snugly against him as he stared the man down.
Terrence shrank back from their united front, nervously glancing from the two of them over his shoulder toward Eli’s mother. It was a wonder Shirley Wallace’s laser-focused glare wasn’t burning holes through her nephew’s suit; frankly, setting his orange-and-magenta tie on fire would be a mercy. “I, ah, had too much to drink at Eli’s stag party. Forgot my manners,” he muttered. “Auntie Shirl thought maybe it would be a good idea for me to come apologize.”
Mia couldn’t help rolling her eyes. “You couldn’t figure that out on your own? You’re a grown man. No one should have to send you over to say you’re sorry like a reluctant fourth grader.”
“Hey, I—” Whatever he saw in Daniel’s expression shut him up.
“If you ‘forget your manners’ when you drink,” she added, “maybe ease up on the alcohol.” She wondered absently if she should talk to the bartender about watering down Terrence’s cocktails.
“Yeah. Yeah, I could do that.”
“Then I accept your apology, but only if you promise not to treat other women like that, either.”
“If you do,” Daniel said mildly, “and Eli hears of it, we might have to come give you a refresher on manners.”
Terrence tugged at the buttoned collar of his shirt. “Not necessary, man. One-time-only mistake. Isolated incident.” He flashed Mia a pained smile, then informed his aunt, from a safe distance, “We’re all good here, Shirl.” Then he scuttled to the opposite side of the room.
“He seemed genuinely scared of you,” Mia said. “Just how many times did he ‘bump his head’ getting into that cab?”
Daniel
bared his teeth in a shark’s smile. “He shouldn’t have touched you.” The words were matter-of-fact, but the gleam of possessiveness in his silvery eyes was so primal it made her shiver.
She glanced around the room, watching caterers collect empty dishes and smiling guests unwind on the dance floor and in chatty clusters by the bar. No one would miss Mia for a few minutes. “Come with me,” she said, as out of breath as if she’d been swing-dancing alongside the bride and groom.
They rounded a corner into a back hallway, uncannily quiet after the music and noise of the reception. From the pocket of her suit jacket, she pulled out a key to the small room that had once been an administrator’s office. Now it was just spare storage. They stepped inside, and she closed the door behind them. He backed her into the wall, letting the anticipation build before he lowered his head and captured her lips. She grinned into his mouth, thinking that he tasted like buttercream frosting and sin.
Pulling back long enough to study her expression, he asked, “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing. But remind me to write a letter to ice cream companies and tell them I have an idea for a great new flavor.”
One eyebrow rose in an endearingly confused expression that crinkled his forehead. “Not sure I understand how your mind works.”
“Probably because I’m a little offbeat,” she admitted. She let her head fall back against the wall as he kissed her neck. “But you proved last night you definitely understand how my body works.”
His lips curled in the barest hint of a cocky grin as he reached for the top button of her jacket.
Should she stop him? But this is exactly why you chose this outfit. For Daniel. She decided to let him have this moment—she wanted to see his reaction too badly to deny either of them. It would only take her a minute to rebutton.
She looked every inch the professional in her suit skirt and red jacket, a bit of prim white blouse showing through. It wasn’t until Daniel reached the second button that he realized just how see-through the blouse was, prominently displaying the black lace bra under it. Groaning, eyes locked on her chest, he fumbled with the remaining buttons.
“It comes with matching panties.” She stood on her tiptoes, catching his earlobe between her teeth. “And thigh-highs.”
“Show me.”
Sweet heaven, that voice. It made her want to do unspeakable things. Made her want to do anything he asked. She hesitated, not to be coy but because she didn’t entirely trust herself. As appealing as the idea of a disheveled Daniel was, she didn’t want to walk back into that reception looking completely debauched.
“We can’t have sex,” she said firmly. “Not until we get back to my place.”
“But I can kiss you.” It wasn’t a question. His mouth was already on hers again, the thrust of his tongue making her body hum. “And I want to see you,” he said several heated moments later.
With a palm flat on his chest, she gently pushed him away to give her room to move. He’d left no space between them, crowding her in the most spectacular way, filling her senses. After he obligingly backed up, she shrugged out of her jacket, and folded it neatly over the back of an upholstered antique chair. Next, the blouse. Finally, she reached behind her waist to unzip the skirt, shimmying out of it with a pronounced wiggle for Daniel’s benefit.
Once she’d finished stripping, she was left with a black demi-bra, tanga panties, silk thigh-highs and a pair of peep-toe pumps.
He swallowed hard.
“Courtesy of my friend Wren,” she said, stretching her arms over her head to give him an unimpeded view. “She’s the manager of a very nice lingerie store.”
“I owe Wren a drink. Or possibly a tropical vacation.” He advanced on her, the possessive light in his gaze even brighter than before. That expression said she was his and that he was biding his time deciding where to touch her first, deciding how to make her shudder and clutch at him and lose her mind.
“This is only a preview for later,” she said, starting to get nervous. With that look in his eyes, it wouldn’t take him long to shred her self-control or her common sense. “No sex, remember?”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He gave her a look of such patently false innocence that her heart skipped a beat. Whatever devil Daniel had on his shoulder was running the show now. “But I want to give you a preview of what’s to come, too.” Bracing her against the wall with a hand on her hip, he sank to his knees.
The sight of his dark head as he kissed along the lace-topped edge of her thigh-high was unbearably suggestive. Having him between her legs made her throb with the need to feel his mouth higher up. He teased his tongue over her tattoo, stopping to really study it.
“Is this...your name?” He sounded as if he didn’t know whether to be incredulous or amused.
“Yeah.” It wasn’t immediately obvious, but the green vines surrounding the flowers were curlicues that spelled out Mia. “I know most people get someone else’s name inked on them.”
He glanced up with a smile, and she tried not to hyperventilate at how hot he looked kneeling in front of her. “You’re not most people,” he said, earning a grin that melted into a sigh when he traced his finger over the artwork, the light touch trembling along her nerve endings. “So why’d you choose this?”
“It was a reminder that I answer to myself. I don’t have to share my body with anyone unless I want to and I don’t have to justify my choices or my clothes or my curves to anyone else.”
He frowned, looking as if he were about to question her further.
Her hands dropped to his shoulders, lightly shoving. “We should get back.”
“We will. But you did say I could kiss you.”
Her eyes slid shut as his mouth slid up the sensitive skin. Higher and higher until—
“Mia.” His voice was awestruck.
She grinned, knowing he’d just realized there was a slit in the black lace. The crotchless panties were supposed to have been a surprise for later. “You like?”
He answered her with his eyes, gaze locked on hers as he used both hands to widen the opening in the fabric, letting his fingertips brush over her in a tantalizing prelude. Then he was spreading her open, and molten need rushed through her as he leaned in to flick his tongue over her clit. She gasped, her fingers digging into his shoulders. Another very precise swipe of his tongue, and her world tilted. Then another, accompanied by a low growl in his throat as he sucked. She bucked toward the wet heat of his mouth, wanting to lose herself in it, wondering if this was how he felt when he was inside her.
Her response seemed to set him off. He licked faster, lashing her with pleasure, as he slipped a finger inside her. The sensations were overpowering. If she hadn’t been pinned to the wall, she wouldn’t have been able to stay on her feet. Even with the support at her back, she’d blindly reached out one hand to grip the nearby shelving unit. Her other hand was tangled in his hair, tightening reflexively as he scraped his teeth against her.
The tiny sting magnified everything she was feeling, bringing the spinning intensity into sharper focus, and she relinquished her hold on the back of his head to press her hand against her mouth, doing her damnedest not to scream. Pumping his fingers in and out of her, he used his teeth again, and flames shot through her blood. Her body couldn’t contain it.
One more of those wickedly sharp caresses, and she was going to go supernova. She whimpered, afraid she was about to yell his name so loudly she’d be heard in Alabama. He crooked a finger inside her as he sucked, and shock waves of bliss rocked through her, unending pulses that buckled her knees. He lapped at her as she came, groaning as if he couldn’t get enough of her, not stopping until she slumped forward.
He caught her against his chest and eased her to the floor with him. “I got you,” he murmured, smoothing a hand over her hair.
She angled her head,
blindly seeking a kiss, tasting herself on his tongue and trying to burrow even closer, knowing she wouldn’t be satisfied until her naked limbs were tangled with his, so intertwined that it would be difficult to tell where one of them stopped and the other started.
“Congratulations,” she said, her voice scratchy from the cries she’d done her best to muffle. “You’re officially in charge of locking up when this shindig is over. I don’t think I’ll be able to stand. The storage room is my home now. Forward my mail.”
He chuckled affectionately. “Careful. With the slurred speech and nonsense talk, people will think you’ve been hitting the champagne.”
“I ought to hit you.” She balled up one fist and raised it about two inches before letting it fall limply to her side. “I can’t believe you did that to me when I still have work to do. Be a dear and pretend I socked you in the shoulder.”
“Oh, the pain,” he said in a dry monotone. “Ow. The agony.”
She laughed out loud. “Ever the obliging gentleman.”
He stood, helping her to her feet. “I try.” He passed her the skirt and blouse, but when it came time for the jacket, he swatted her hand away, wanting to be the one to rebutton it.
“Do I look okay?” she asked, finger-combing her hair and hoping for the best.
His gaze slid slowly over her body, and by the time it returned to her face, that suggestive gleam was back.
She scrambled for the doorknob. “Forget I asked.”
Chuckling, he took her hand, and they strolled down the hall, parting ways just outside the reception.
“The caterers should be packing up,” Mia said with a glance at her watch. “I want to check in with them one last time.”
He nodded, giving her fingers a quick squeeze. “Go be professional. I’ll see you later. Oh and, Mia?” he added when she’d taken a few steps away. “I don’t know what new ice cream flavor you’re planning to recommend, but I can sure as hell tell you what my new favorite flavor is.”
Tempting the Best Man Page 9