Love Changes Everything

by Peri Elizabeth Scott

  She sipped her soda and patted her lips with a napkin, her face set in serious lines. “I thought we could maintain the status quo, that I could see you when you came over and stuff. You had an active social life, and that kept me from letting my feelings surface much. But then you changed things up when you asked me out. It got awkward. And you stayed away.”

  He didn’t want to be anything other than honest with her, the same gift she’d afforded him. “I hated the guys you invited to poker night.”

  She blinked. “You did?”

  “If I had to analyze it, I think I saw you as Jeff’s little sister and no way could I change that regard. I looked forward to seeing you weekly, maybe got my fix.” He reached for her hand, toying with her fingers and she folded them into his hold. “But then you started having your dates attend and it pissed me right off. It took me a while, being a guy, but I finally came to terms with the fact I saw you as far more than my best friend’s little sister.”

  “Jeff told me you asked his permission to date me.” Her bottom lip pouted a bit and he wanted to suck it into his mouth, bite it a little.

  “I did. I thought he’d kick my ass and he considered it. I saw it on his face. But he got past it and so I asked you. And you cut me off at the knees. Big time.”

  “You aren’t used to that.”

  “Hey. I’ve been turned down. First time it mattered.”

  “Oh.” Her face lit up.

  He had to say it. “I’m sorry about Eleanor. But one thing came out of it.”

  She bent an evil stare on him. His Alys was a sweet, big-hearted person, but she obviously had a tiny, mean side too. “And what’s that?”

  “You were jealous and it gave me hope. I decided to give it another try. As many as it took.”

  “I won’t deny it,” she admitted. “It’s like something out of a book.”

  “Or maybe what books are made of.” He squeezed her hand, the nails painted in pale pink—matching her panties—with sparkles on the baby fingernails. He adored them. “Did me taking you to lunch at a taco stand bring about your terrific announcement?”

  “Sort of.”

  “Okay.” He watched her smile and regardless of the public place, leaned across the table and tasted it. Her lips melted against his and it was all he could do not to drag her off and have his way with her. Someplace close by.

  When he pulled back, her eyes were a bit hazy, and she touched her tongue to her upper lip. Jesus.

  On an exhale that lifted her amazing rack, she said, “You were going to let me eat in your truck.”

  “What?”

  “You’ve been showing me how you feel for a while. You haven’t been dating,” she raised a brow.

  “Not at all. Not even in Canada.”

  “And you’ve been giving me those looks. It took me a while to interpret them.”

  His chest felt impossibly tight. It had taken so much to get here.

  “And then your truck.”

  He got it. He hadn’t even given it a thought, choosing the place his girl liked to eat, letting her eat in his prize and joy—a no-brainer. And with her attention to detail, experienced or not… She got it. “I love you.”

  “I know.”

  “We’ll let Jeff and Andrea get married first.”

  Her eyes popped wide, their tawny depths startled. “Married?”

  “We’ve known one another all our lives. We love one another. I say we should set a date.” Jeez, maybe he’d jumped the gun.

  “But what if we aren’t compatible? You know. In bed.”

  “You have a doubt?”

  “I have nothing to base it on.”

  A line of sweat broke out down his back. She was killing him. “Will you take my word for it? That we’ll be compatible?”

  “We might need to practice a bit first.”

  His pants had a stranglehold on his dick. Once again, it didn’t interpret semantics. “I can do that.”

  “Maybe today?”

  Right the fuck now. “I can check my schedule.” He had her levered up from the bench, hustling her back to the truck, his mind jumping ahead to the state of his apartment. Had he picked up his clothes? Were his sheets clean?

  He decided it didn’t matter. He’d distract her.

  She swung into the passenger seat, this time with the palm of his hand on the swell of her ass. The touch sent a riff of electricity clear up his arm. She scooted over, lifting the console and buckling into the middle seat. He didn’t even care that all the carefully ordered contents nestled within the console would be all mixed up, upside down and sideways.

  “I’ve never ridden beside my … boyfriend before.” Her smile made him fly around the front of the vehicle and vault into the driver’s seat.

  He fumbled with the seatbelt and relished her proximity, heralded by her scent. He remembered to be a gentleman. “Where to?”

  “Your place?”

  “Done.” He wheeled out of the lot, holding himself under control as the heated weight of her little hand seared his thigh. Just a couple inches higher and to the right, baby. What was wrong with him? Asked and answered. In love and in lust.

  Once at his apartment, she paced the small space, questing about like a kitten while he surreptitiously kicked yesterday’s clothes into the closet before she retreated to sit on the couch. He plunked down beside her and wrapped her up, unable to wait any longer, even as he reminded himself to pay attention to her cues.

  Dropping his mouth over hers, he softened her lips until she opened to him, allowing him entry, and he explored her depths, tasting her fully. When they parted for air, her eyes were dilated and her breath came in little pants. He traced the fine line of her jaw with a finger.

  “Okay?”

  “Yes.” She worked her hands into his hair and drew him close, pressing kisses over his lips and feathering them over his cheeks. He nearly shook at her gentleness and curiosity. Her trust.

  Kissing her back, he coasted his way down her throat, tasting her skin, a hint of that spice tickling his senses. He halted at the top button of her blouse, lifting his head to peer at her, and he drank in the sight. Her eyes closed, thick lashes drifting over her cheeks as she gave over to the pleasure he offered.

  With one hand, he popped a couple of buttons at her cleavage, the swell he uncovered making his belly tighten. He’d seen her in bathing suits, modest ones and slightly risqué ones over the years but the pale pink, lacy bra he revealed, the one putting her curves on display, was the most intriguing piece of clothing ever.

  He spent some time nuzzling the tops of each breast, feeling her begin to lift into his touch, her nipples tight, darker pink nubs against the fabric. And her scent… He released a groan, helpless against it and she flinched.

  “You’re so damn beautiful. So soft.”

  She pressed against him and he popped the front clasp, all that abundant flesh bursting free of confinement. He reverently weighed first one, and then the other, testing her tolerance for pressure on her sweet nipples as he sucked and drew them between his teeth.

  With tiny whimpers and moans, she telegraphed her need and he paid attention to her pleasure as he’d never done in the past, drawing on his experience while feeling like it was the first time.

  Working a hand under her tight skirt took some doing, his work-roughened hands meeting the soft, silky skin of her inner thighs. Alys tensed and he calmed her with sweet words that leaped to his tongue from someplace he never envisioned he possessed.

  “Relax and open for me, sweetheart. I won’t hurt you. You tell me to stop anytime.”

  But she didn’t, arching into his hand and allowing him access. His fingertips met the soft stuff of her panties, damp to the touch, and he eased a finger beneath the material. Hot, wet woman greeted him, and he traced her seam.

  There were so many things he wanted to do to her, with her, but they were flying along a supersonic speed and he reined himself in. This was about her, no matter what. He ferreted out the
tiny nub at the top of her sex and teased it, rubbing gently and with alternating flicks, gauging her rising passion.

  Carefully inserting a finger between her folds, he plumbed her tight opening and swiveled his thumb to work that throbbing bundle of nerves he’d just abandoned. She abruptly stiffened and shuddered, clenching around his finger and keening a soft cry.

  He petted her, bringing her down, letting her revel in her climax. Her face was pink, brow damp, her eyes tightly closed. Satisfaction filled him, despite his own, unrequited need and he thanked his lucky stars Alys had fallen for him.

  “You okay?”

  “Um hmmm.” She stretched a bit as he pulled his hand away and straightened her skirt. The bra and shirt he left alone, feasting his eyes on that flesh.

  He thought she might be shy, but not his Alys. He knew her and was aware she’d continue to surprise him, part of her allure. She sat up as he gave her space and she reached out to cautiously touch the obvious bulge in his pants.

  “Can I help with this?”

  “Not today.”

  “Oh.” She drew back and stared at him.

  He hurried to explain. “I’d like to wait until I don’t lose it at first blush. I’m too worked up. I’d rather enjoy your … ministrations.”

  “How long do I have to wait for you to gain control?”

  Little wench. He laughed, not buying her innocent act. “Quit teasing. This is serious stuff.”

  Immediately, she lost the arch look and gave him a little pat. “Okay.”

  He admired the disheveled look, knowing he was responsible. “We should go out for dinner. Catch up on all the dates I’d like to take you on.”

  “Are we telling Jeff and Andrea?”

  “Not right away. I can’t stand the thought of all that smugness.”

  “We’ll surprise them at the wedding.”

  He made up his mind to have her ring chosen by then. Or before. Or maybe she’d want to choose it herself. He’d think on that, knowing her preferences and soon to learn her sexual ones.

  Chapter Six

  Andrea made a beautiful bride and Jeff a handsome groom, if a bit of a mess waiting for her at the altar. The ceremony was lovely, even if Alys had to suffer through her father beaming like he was responsible for it all. And her mother preening in an outfit better suited for someone half her age. At least they carried out their parental responsibilities without taking away from the occasion too much.

  People kept sneaking a glance at her left hand where the most exquisite ring, a pink opal, surrounded by bezel-set diamonds, resided. Simon had wonderful taste and an even better memory.

  As Simon predicted, her brother and Andrea were smug, as were Ryan and Paul. Maybe a few others weren’t surprised, but a gratifying number was and she enjoyed their excitement and well wishes too. If there were a few—mostly blondes—who weren’t thrilled, she didn’t much care.

  The initial dancing was over and she was waltzing in the love of her life’s arms, held close, breathing in his familiar scent. Being that it was a destination wedding, they had their own room, a suite, overlooking the ocean. Alys already loved the island life and looked forward to the next few weeks, her first vacation in a long time.

  Jeff and Simon insisted the firm could do without them both and while she had no intention of horning in on the honeymoon, they’d all decided to get together when the urge struck. She suspected she wouldn’t see much of her brother and new sister-in-law for the next few days, in any event.

  “Are you tired? It’s been a big day.”

  She suppressed a smile. “A little.”

  “I’m tired.”

  “They’ll be cutting the cake soon. We have to stay for that.”

  “Traditions,” he grumbled, though he’d been a superb best man, shoring Jeff up through a bout of nerves, keeping the rings safe and ironing out the little glitches. She hardly had anything to do aside from help Andrea get dressed, all those tiny little buttons the only fussy adornment on the beachy gown.

  She could feel the heat emanating from him as he stood close, watching with her while the happy couple sliced the cake and handed it around after feeding one another a small piece.

  “Thanks for being here,” Andrea whispered in her ear, giving her a one-armed hug. “See you tomorrow. Or maybe the next day.”

  Jeff smiled hugely, his stare never leaving his bride. “See you tomorrow.”

  They gave the couple a few minutes to gain their suite, down a few rooms from them, before taking the elevator up. Simon whisked her down the hall and into their room, securing the door. “Finally.”

  She pressed against him, his short-sleeved shirt parting before her nimble fingers. He’d long discarded the jacket. His broad chest, covered in dark hair, came into view and she traced a path down the center to find his corded abs. Nothing much sexier than that, unless she considered the sexy V he sported. Or maybe the way he hissed with pleasure at her most casual touch.

  “You’re getting good at undressing me,” he said, laughter running through his voice as she tugged open his pants. He jerked when she fit her hand around him.

  “Make love to me.”

  He stilled and she tipped her head back—not too far—the high-heeled sandals a pain in the sand but perfect on the dance floor. His features were strained, his eyes dilated.

  “Are you sure, baby? Because I respect your decision. We aren’t married yet.”

  She suspected it would kill him to stop, or at best leave him in exquisite pain, and loved him for the offer, for putting her first. It might kill her, too, though if he did stop. She wanted this.

  “It’s a wedding,” she teased. “And you’re it for me. I’m not hung up on only having sex after marriage. I just want to be sure who I want to have sex with, before I do it.”

  He swept her up and carried her to the couch in the sitting area, his gait a bit stilted to accommodate his loosened pants—or maybe his erection. He sat with her on his lap and hugged her close. She thought he growled against her breasts, his heated breath dampening the fabric of the gorgeous bridesmaid dress. “You’d better be sure of me. And only me.”

  A giggle escaped her, despite her burgeoning need. Her breasts were aching and she was so wet, so ready. “Only you, Simon. And we’ve been racking up the experience, wouldn’t you say?”

  He looked down into her eyes. “The color of my balls being a perpetual shade of blue, I’d say so.”

  She slipped a hand back between them, unerringly finding his thick, full shaft. “That’s patently untrue. I’ve unleashed my very best oral skills on this bad boy.”

  “Alys, you’re killing me.” He closed his eyes and pressed into her touch. He’d taught her those oral skills, so he should know.

  “You’ve got some mad talents of your own.”

  His lids cracked open and he stared for a moment. She took pity on him. “Teasing, darling. I find I don’t mind reaping the benefits.”

  “Too many clothes,” he muttered, divesting her of the dress he’d helped her into that afternoon. The light, shimmering fabric draped over his tanned flesh and he more or less tossed it onto a chair. “This underwear is pretty much like I remembered. All freaking day.”

  She’d helped the bride choose her wedding lingerie and might have purchased some pretty things for herself. The memory of Simon’s face when she wandered out of the bathroom after doing her hair and makeup, wearing nothing but the skimpy, froths of peach fabric made the purchase worth every, single penny. She’d been intensely aware herself, all freaking day. Well, afternoon and evening.

  He looked at her until she nearly squirmed under his stare, her skin heating as if touched by it. She’d come a very long way from Little Miss Untouched and couldn’t regret one step of the journey because it had been with Simon.

  At last, he stripped the underwear from her, losing his pants along the way. He carried her to the bedroom, the balcony doors thrown wide to let the sea breeze flow in and she knew she’d never forget the sc
ent of the sea.

  He lowered her to the bed, the sheets pulled back, and stretched out beside her. His kiss never failed to make her melt and anticipate, starting out sweet and ending up demanding. When he’d taken his fill, muddling her senses, he paid homage to her breasts. His fascination with that part of her anatomy suited her just fine, their sensitive tips tightening with his questing fingers and suckling mouth.

  It made her needy and she tugged at his hair when he kissed his way lower. “I want you now.”

  “Not until you’re ready.” He nuzzled her mound, trimmed and clipped, the lips of her pussy waxed, both because of the infinitesimal bikini he’d insisted on buying—and then didn’t want her to wear in public—and because she craved his touch, skin on skin.

  An open-mouthed kiss against her there and her thighs parted wider. His tongue flirted and danced over her folds, making her writhe with pleasure and urge him to find that particular spot that throbbed with need. “Please, Simon.”

  He obliged, not making her wait, and she suspected he was at the tipping point himself. With a little extra pressure and a clever touch, her building orgasm broke over her, and she surfed the wave.

  Simon climbed between her legs, lifting her knees to rest at his sides. His smiling gaze reflected such love and devotion, tears pricked at the back of her eyes. He dropped a kiss on her nose. “You still sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  The nudge of his erection against her opening made her draw a deep breath, but they’d played over the weeks and she wasn’t a stranger to penetration any longer. Just not penile penetration. The thought made her want to giggle, her nerves getting the better of her until he pressed deeper.

  He suddenly pushed hard and she gasped as he filled her, stretching her wide. Instantly, he wrapped her up and mashed her against him, his heart thundering in his chest. “Okay?”

  His voice sounded strangled and she made herself focus on what was actually happening. “Yes.”

  She moved her hips a little and he made a strange sound. “Relax a little, sweetheart.”

  Aware she’d tensed, she breathed again and let herself go loose. It didn’t make him any smaller, but the discomfort was lessening as she adjusted and she decided she liked the absolute closeness. The intimacy was indescribable.