Digging through my purse, I found a packet of tissues. Pushing my hand under the door, they were taken from me by a small hand with pink fingertips.
“Thanks,” came the muffled reply.
I heard her blow her nose and I stood up. Exiting the stall, I adjusted my dress, ensuring that everything that should be covered, was. Glancing into the mirror, I looked better than I felt. Running some cold water over my wrists, I willed my heart to calm the fuck down.
Everything made sense now. How had I been so stupid? So blind? Gage was Dr. Dolittle. Of course he was. He was a vet, for god’s sake. I missed it. What rattled me even more was trying to reconcile if I was happy with that or not. Was I glad that Gage turned out to be the man I’d been chatting to online? Did he know? Did Payton know? Shit! Had Payton and Beau been laughing behind my back this whole time?
My stomach rumbled and I was forced to duck into the stall and bend over the bowl. I hoped I wasn’t going to throw up. That was the last thing I needed right now. But the way the nerves in my body were firing in overdrive, I couldn’t be sure I wouldn’t. Pushing the door shut, I leant against it and dropped my head back. I just needed a minute. I needed to breathe.
I heard the other stall open, the water run, a final sniff, then the music. Whoever had been hiding was gone now. Back to the party. I hoped she’d be okay, no matter what happened. No one should be crying in the bathroom at a party.
With one final deep breath, I pushed off the door and yanked it open. Who was waiting for me on the other side was not expected.
I have no idea what made me follow Carly into the women’s bathroom. I’d seen the way her face fell when Payton called me Dr. Dolittle, and knew it wouldn’t be long until Carly figured it all out. She wasn’t an idiot. I’d untangled the truth a week ago when I’d picked up her camera and noticed the name on her strap. Click Chick was Carly. It made perfect sense. I wish I’d seen it sooner. When I figured it out, I meant to tell her who I was, I just didn’t know how. Or I chickened out. Probably a bit of both. Then the other day when Payton was giving me shit about caring for Carly, I wanted to come clean again. Then when I kissed her, let’s just say I’d been taking that kiss to bed with me every night since.
Figuring out Carly was the one I’d been talking to didn’t turn me off. Not at all. If anything, it did the complete opposite. She intrigued me. As Dolittle and Click Chick, we’d been open and honest, and I’d confessed things that, frankly, knowing it was Carly, I may not have done. Yet I didn’t regret it. Not one minute of it.
Then when she’d messaged me about that kiss, I couldn’t lie. I wanted more. Maybe that’s why I was standing on the wrong side of the door in the women’s bathroom at Mia and Derek’s wedding.
“Gage…wh-what are you doing in here?”
I stalked towards Carly, watching as her eyes widened and her perfect, pink tongue ducked out and wet her lips. I heard the growl come from the back of my throat and barely recognised myself. Without a word or warning, I stepped into Carly’s personal space, pinning her to the tiled wall and crushing my mouth over hers.
Carly was slow on the uptake, but once she figured out what was going on, her arms wrapped around my neck and she kissed me back with everything she had.
It wasn’t the best place for this to happen, and it certainly wasn’t what I intended, but I wasn’t about to call a halt to it. I couldn’t. Reaching down, I palmed Carly’s ass through that scrap of material she called a dress. She moaned at the contact but didn’t hesitate in wrapping those legs I’d spent the last couple of weeks staring at, around my waist.
I was about to die a very happy man or embarrass the fuck out of myself and come in my pants like a randy teenager. I could feel her warmth seeping through the front of my suit pants as she rocked herself against me, finding the friction she craved. Pulling back, I looked at her flushed face and saw the lust reflected there. She wanted this as much as I did, if that was at all possible.
“Gage,” she panted in my ear. The warmth of her breath on my neck was not helping me keep control.
“Mmm…” I murmured as I sucked on the pulse point on her neck. Fuck, she tasted good. Like lemon and sugar and something else. Something I could quickly become addicted too.
Pushing her chest out, Carly arched her back, and those tits she’d been taunting me with from the moment Beau helped her out of the car, were suddenly in reach. The only issue I had was my hands were currently full. And there was no way in the world I was letting go of that ass. I found myself wishing we were somewhere else. Anywhere else. Somewhere I could lay her down, stretch her out, and explore every inch of this delectable body.
Guilt outweighed the lust. Fuck if I know how, but it did. Slowly, with my lips crushed against Carly’s and my tongue exploring her mouth, I slid her down my body and set her on her feet.
When her heels touched the tiles, she pulled back abruptly, shock all over her face. “I…I don’t understand.”
Fuck it! She looked like she was going to cry. What the hell was I supposed to say? I didn’t understand it either. I should be forced to hand in my man card for halting this. Cupping her face in my hands, I kissed her again. Softly this time. I had no idea where Carly’s head was at, at some point we’d have to talk about it, but I knew exactly where I was. I had no intention of this being a one-time deal. That wasn’t me. And it certainly wasn’t Carly. She might wear the leather jacket and ride that damn motorcycle—another thing we’d be discussing—but she wasn’t reckless.
“I thought you wanted…”
I didn’t let her finish that sentence. Of course I fucking wanted her. I was suffering through the worst case of blue balls imaginable right now. I was sure I’d have a zipper indent in my cock the way it was pressing against my pants. It was weeping, it was so sad. Thank god I’d gone with the black pants. At least the damp patch wouldn’t show.
Resting her tiny hand over my aching cock made it twitch. It did absolutely fuck all to calm it down. And Carly, she was just as mean as I knew she’d be. Even though I moved my hand away, she gave it a little squeeze. A squeeze that made me clench my teeth and think of castrating cattle. If I didn’t, I was going to humiliate myself.
“Oh fuck me, I want to. But not here. Not now. You deserve better.”
Carly didn’t meet my eyes. Instead, she unbuckled my belt and popped the button on my slacks before slipping her hand inside. When her fingers edged their way under the band of my boxers and made contact with my skin, all bets were off. This was a runaway fucking train and I wasn’t stupid enough to try and stop it. I’d tried to be a gentleman once. I didn’t have the strength in me to do it again. That might make me weak as fuck, I didn’t care.
When Carly’s thumb spread the precum around the tip of my cock, I was done for. I started fucking her hand like my life depended on it. As good as it felt though, there was no way I was going to be the only one getting something out of this. As I crushed her mouth to mine again, I yanked the hem of her dress up over her delectable ass, only to reveal the sexiest scrap of lace I’d ever seen. I don’t know why she even bothered wearing it. It covered nothing. I could smell her as I tugged the lace to the side and plunged two fingers straight into her tight, wet heat.
“Fuck, Carly!”
“Oh. My. God. Don’t you dare fucking stop!”
Carly had lost control. Her cheeks were red, her eyes closed, her mouth hung open, and her head tipped back, exposing the long column of creamy skin. But it was those boobs I was desperate to get my hands on. While Carly rode my fingers like a champ, I added my thumb circling her clit. She moaned and moved faster. Her grip on my cock was tightening and so were my balls. I knew I wasn’t going to last much longer. Dropping my head, I bit down on her nipple though her dress. Carly squealed as she clamped down on my fingers and exploded. At the feel of her drenching my fingers, I let go with one final thrust, coating her hand.
Panting, we both looked at the other, reality slipping in. I wasn’t about to let her o
ff the hook. We weren’t done yet. Not by a long shot. A hand job in a bathroom wasn’t enough. I needed more.
Kissing her deeply, I withdrew my fingers, feeling her shudder as I fixed her underwear and tugged down her dress. Carly slipped her hand out of my boxers and stepped back, breaking our connection. I didn’t like it. I liked her warmth and scent all over me. I was desperate for it. It was a craving I didn’t know if I’d ever satisfy.
Carly turned away from me and washed her face and hands. I didn’t like the distance, but I was in no position to push it. When she picked up her purse from the floor and reapplied her lip gloss, I knew she was getting ready to run. I could feel the chill between us.
“Come home with me tonight,” I blurted out. I hadn’t meant to. It was just how it came out.
“Gage, you don’t have to…”
“Carly.” I grabbed her shoulders and spun her until she was looking at me straight in the eye. When she tried to look to the floor, I cupped her chin and forced her to look at me. “This isn’t done. We aren’t done. Not by a long shot. So, I’m going to ask again. Come home with me tonight, Carly. Please.”
She looked stunned, and it pissed me off. Surely after all this time, all the secrets we’d shared, she knew me better than thinking all I’d want from her was a hand job in a dirty bathroom.
“Why?”
“So we can finish what we started.” Wasn’t it obvious?
“Then what?”
“What do you mean?”
“What happens once we’ve fucked each other’s brains out? We go back to being friends? You don’t get it, Gage. We’re always going to be in each other’s lives. Payton is my best friend. The sister I don’t have. She’s my person. And her husband…he’s your brother. We can’t be reckless and have one night of hot, sweaty sex and expect things to be back to normal the next day. It doesn’t work like that. Life doesn’t work like that.”
She was really starting to piss me off with how little she thought of me. “Who said it was only one night? You’re the one thinking that way…”
“And you’re not?”
“No, Carly. I’m not.”
That shut her up. Picking up her purse from the counter, I smoothed down a strand of her ruffled hair and handed it back to her. When I intertwined my fingers with hers, I heard her gasp, but she didn’t pull away. Together we walked to the door, neither breaking eye contact. Maybe, just maybe, she was starting to get the picture. Blindly, I reached down and unlatched the lock, pulling the door open. The noise from the party infiltrated our bubble and it burst. We were about to step back into reality.
“What the—!” Payton screeched in such a high pitched, nasally tone I’m sure dogs all over town buried their heads and hoped to hide from her noise.
Before I’d even managed to get one foot out of the ladies’ bathroom, Payton had pushed me aside, linked her arm through Carly’s, and was dragging her through the crowd. Shaking off the disappointment—I’d catch up with Carly later, she could bet on that—I headed towards the bar where Beau and Connor were hanging out.
“One of those for me?” I asked, sidling up next to Connor. He shook his head, but bent down to the ice bucket and grabbed me a bottle before popping the top.
Taking a long gulp, I was glad for the cool refreshment. “So, slutty wedding sex, huh?”
Beau’s words caused me to snort beer out my nose. It burnt coming out while I wiped my face with the back of my hand, trying to clean myself up. That was not what I was expecting Beau to say.
“Didn’t think you had it in you, little brother!” Connor added smugly, handing me a napkin.
“Don’t fucking hurt her,” Beau warned menacingly as Derek joined us, the beaming smile on his face having not dimmed one bit since he first spotted Mia walking down the aisle hours earlier. And from the look of him, it was going to take a hell of a long time for it to fade.
“What? Why?” Their insinuation kinda pissed me off. They were my brothers. Surely they knew me better than that. They should know I wouldn’t hurt anyone. Not deliberately, anyway. “I mean, besides the obvious.”
“She’s Payton’s best friend. Payton’s my wife. You piss Carly off, you piss Payton off. Those two are some weird package deal…”
“That’s just women,” Derek added.
“And if you piss Payton off, then I have to deal with it. Don’t make me have to deal with it.”
“Don’t tell me big bad Beau is scared of his sexy as sin wife?” Derek taunted, stealing the beer from Beau’s hand.
Connor had a smug look on his face. He was in heaven. Everyone else was throwing barbs at each other recklessly, and he was standing there unscathed. Turning to Derek, he taunted, “Aren’t you?”
“Fuck yeah! Have you seen my wife? She’d take us all out without chipping a nail.”
“You’re all pussy whipped.”
“Says you, you smug bastard.”
“I’m not smug. Just pointing out the truth.”
“Bullshit! You’ve been eye fucking the best man all day.” Even as I said it, I realised how wrong it sounded. Didn’t make it any less true, though.
“The best man?” Connor asked, playing dumb. It was a role that suited him.
“Zoe.”
“Better fucking not be,” Derek growled possessively.
“Oh, he has been. Right, Beau?”
“Hell yeah! What is up with you two, anyway?”
“How’d this shit turn back around on me? I wasn’t the one having slutty wedding sex in the bathroom!”
Their eyes all landed on me. I had nothing to say to that. I wasn’t about to divulge details. Carly deserved better than that. But damn, did I wish we’d had sex in that bathroom.
“You guys are fucking terrible. I’m going to find my wife.” Derek pronounced it so proudly. His wife. He dropped Beau’s now empty beer bottle in the bin, scoured the room, and headed in the direction of the giggling women. Without a word, my brothers and I just followed. It was like he was the Pied Piper and he was leading us to the promised land. And with Carly standing among them, her hair still sporting the ‘just-fucked’ look, what a fucking promise.
From the sounds of their conversation, they hadn’t seen us approaching. They were squished together in a tight circle, shoulders touching. What I wouldn’t give to slip into the middle of that circle and listen to every word. I’d seen the determination in Payton’s eyes when she’d discovered us stumbling out of the bathroom. I knew I was a star in that specific conversation right now.
Slowing up, we hung back a few steps, not wanting to get noticed. It was like we all had the same idea. We wanted the gossip, but not to be caught. Beau pressed his finger to his lips, effectively telling us to shut the hell up. I didn’t need to be told twice.
“Is that stubble rash all over your face, Carly, you whore?” Instantly my whole body tensed. No one deserved to be called a whore, especially not Carly. My fists clenched, but Connor’s heavy hand landed on my shoulder, holding me in place.
“Bet it’s not just on her face, either,” Josie added as she shifted a sleeping Matilda in her arms. I was glad that kid was asleep. She was way too innocent to be exposed to this conversation.
“I’d say her thighs look the same!”
Carly’s face turned a deep shade of red, but she remained tight-lipped. All she had to do was tell the truth and the teasing would end. We didn’t fuck in there. And I didn’t get my tongue on what I knew would be one very tasty pussy. Why didn’t she just speak up and silence them once and for all? I didn’t miss the way her fingers trembled as she lifted her own beer to her still swollen lips. I’d never wanted to be a bottle before as much as I did in this moment.
“At least tell me he knows what he’s doing? His brother—”
“Nope! Nah uh. Stop there. Please. I’m begging you. I do not want to know what Beau does or doesn’t do in the bedroom.” Stealing my eyes away from Carly, I looked over at my older brother, who was looking mightily pleased w
ith himself right now. And as much as it pained me to say it, he probably should. The way Payton was willing to brag about his sexual exploits, well, that shit put hair on your chest.
“Fine!” Payton pouted, biting down on her bottom lip. What is it with chicks these days and biting their lip? It’s like they read about it in some book, how it drives us insane, and now they’re all doing it. All the fucking time. “It’s your loss, though. There’s not much he doesn’t do, so you’re missing out!”
“Ew! Seriously, Payton. Ew!”
“Oh please! Don’t be such a prude, Carly. You’re the one having slutty wedding sex in the bathroom!”
“At my wedding!” Mia chimed in, looking slightly pissed off. “I’m supposed to be the one having great sex tonight.”
It was taking every ounce of control I had to stay silent. Glancing at Derek, Connor, and Beau, I knew I wasn’t the only one struggling. Who knew chicks actually talked like this? I’d never heard it before. Not even at Uni. It was all code and innuendo. No specifics were ever exchanged. Here though, with these five—Mia, Josie, Zoe, Payton, and Carly—there seems to be no holds barred. Anything and everything was up for discussion. Although I was morbidly curious, I was also slightly terrified.
“Wrong again, big sister. You’re married now.”
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean, Josie?” Mia snapped defensively, straightening. No wonder Derek was scared of his little pixie. She looked like she could do some damage if provoked.
“It means, Mia, you’re married now. The only time you get to have sex from now on are special occasions. Birthdays, anniversaries, long weekends. And it’s always going to be the same. In your own bed. Always missionary. And always with the lights off. Hell, you might as well stop shaving your legs now.”
“But…but…” Mia’s bottom lip trembled. She looked like she was on the verge of tears. It wouldn’t surprise me. It was a wedding, after all. Someone always cried at weddings. Granted, it was usually a bridesmaid who’d had one to many, not the new bride over a lack of sex life. “I want good sex. I want it hard and rough. I want him to pull my hair and spank my ass.”
Picturing Perfect (Meet the McIntyres Book 2) Page 23