His At Last

by Brenna Zinn

  If he didn’t get his sign?

  Carter rubbed a hand over his face, not wanting to think about the possibility. There simply would be no rest until he’d kissed every inch of her soft skin and explored the curves and swells of her body.

  In his mind, he could still see Leslie reclining on the overstuffed sofa in her private restroom, her skirt raised above her bare hips, revealing a manicured pussy glistening with wetness. Even the whirring sound of the vibrator she used to rub her clit lingered clearly in his memory. Usually quiet and reserved, he never suspected Leslie capable of owning such things, let alone using them in the office. The image of her arching her back and pinching her nipples as she climaxed was forever imprinted in his brain.

  Leaning forward, Carter pressed a hand against the uncomfortable bulge in his pants, willing himself to regain composure before embarrassing himself.

  His jaw clenched and ground his teeth. He was a successful businessman, for Pete’s sake. Women were constantly throwing themselves at him, some even younger than Leslie. Why couldn’t he get over the hurdle he’d placed in his mind about his secretary?

  To hell with my age! I’m a man, damn it.

  The urge to pound his fist on the table to make his point was strong, but he held back. He could handle a little rejection and the possibility of a slap in the face. Years of wondering what could have been with Leslie was far worse than risk of failure. Tonight he would make his move, regardless of any damned sign or the chance of being humiliated.

  The abruptness of his decision mirrored the sudden end to the loud music. A hush fell over the room as wedding guests quieted their talking and turned their attention to the head table. Stacy Thomas, the maid of honor, stepped out on to the parquet dance floor holding a microphone in one hand and leading Claire with the other. The rest of the bride’s attendants, including Leslie, trailed behind.

  “All right, ladies. You know what time it is.” Stacy’s high-pitched singsong voice teased the guests. “I need every single woman to come to the dance floor. The bride is going to throw the bouquet!”

  Instantly, a roar of excited chatter filled the air. In a matter of seconds, a throng of giddy women of all ages and shapes popped up from their chairs and navigated their way to the bride. By the time the last woman padded up in stocking feet to the action, not an inch of the large, wooden square that served as the dance floor could be seen.

  Carter shifted in his seat and craned his neck, searching for Leslie among the bedlam. He found her skirting around the crowd, her back to the bride, looking as though she wanted nothing to do with the proceedings. Generally a happy person, distress now haunted her every feature.

  Silent alarm at Leslie’s unusual behavior had Carter out of his chair and onto his feet before he realized what he was doing. Long, determined strides had him halfway to the dance floor when Claire tossed her bouquet high in the air. A stampede of shrieking women in colorful evening gowns rushed toward the flying flowers.

  Leslie turned to see the mayhem. The sad look on her face turned to wide-eyed horror as the bouquet arced then began its decent in her direction. Frozen in place and hands held out defensively before her, the arrangement of miniature white roses landed into the cradle her arms. They might have been calmly placed there by the bride rather than aimlessly tossed.

  Momentum carried the rush of flower-crazed women directly at Leslie. She tried to escape the oncoming push of bodies, but her feet caught in her long dress. Her balance lost, she reached one hand toward a chair while holding the bouquet in the other and fell backward.

  Carter caught her in his arms and pulled her in between two tables. The women chasing after the flowers cried out in dismay while the remaining guests clapped.

  Mouth parted in surprise, Leslie gazed up at him with big brown eyes. Carter’s gut twisted at the sight. How many times had he envisioned holding her like this?

  He bent his head over hers, prepared to capture her full lips with his, when he remembered where he was. He pulled back but held her firmly in his embrace. “Are you hurt?”

  Her expression morphed from fear to relief. “No. I’m fine.” She shook her head and graced him with one of her bewitching smiles. “Those women are crazy. I can’t believe I didn’t get trampled.”

  “Looks like you’re the lucky lady tonight.” Carter nodded toward the bouquet still held tightly in Leslie’s hand. “Guess this means you’re the next one down the aisle.”

  As though just realizing what she was holding, Leslie brought the bouquet closer to her face, then sighed. “If you believe in miracles.”

  Before he had a chance to ask what she meant or even suggest she come see him that evening, she was pulled away by the maid of honor. The absence of Leslie’s warm body left his arms empty and cold.

  “Oh, my God, Leslie. I can’t believe you caught the bouquet. Come with me so we can show everyone.” Stacy led Leslie back up to the front of the room. After grabbing the microphone from the table, Stacy lifted Leslie’s hand in the air, striking a triumphant pose. “Okay, all you single guys out there, take a good look. Leslie’s the next eligible woman who should be hearing wedding bells soon.”

  Even in the dim lighting, Carter could see Leslie’s lovely olive complexion turn a bright shade of pink. Alarm registered on her face as she tugged against Stacy’s restraint.

  Tempted as he was to pull Leslie away from the spotlight she clearly didn’t enjoy, Carter held his ground. Any move on his part right now would cause a scene, which he wanted to avoid. The focus of attention should be on Jeff and Claire, not the old guy making a play for his secretary.

  Unwilling to wrestle his way back to his table through the throng of disappointed women returning to their seats, Carter stood and watched as one of the groomsmen carried a chair on to the parquet floor. Claire, beaming as though an inner light poured from her body, followed closely behind.

  Jeff, already standing in the center of the dance floor, spoke into the microphone. “Single guys, it’s your turn. Time to fight for the garter. Come and get it while it’s hot.”

  Claire cocked her head at her husband, eyebrows high on her forehead. “Jeff!” she chided as she half-heartedly punched her new husband’s arm.

  The groom fell several steps back as though Claire had hit him hard, then shrugged his shoulders in an exaggerated show of confusion. “What did I do?” Jeff asked into the microphone.

  A roar of laughter filled the large banquet hall. Someone tapped a water glass. The ting, ting, ting sound was quickly followed by dozens of others from around the crowded room.

  “A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.” Jeff’s voice echoed through each speaker. He tossed the microphone to one of his groomsmen, pulled Claire into a low dip, and kissed her.

  “Hey, Carter.” Philip O’Brien walked with dogged purpose in Carter’s direction. His untied bowtie bounced at the neck of his unbuttoned dress shirt with every step. “Don’t even think about slipping away, buddy. I promised Jeff and Claire your ass would be on the dance floor when Jeff tosses the garter.”

  Before Philip could get any closer, Carter put his hands up to ward him off. “Not no, but hell no. I stopped doing that kind of nonsense years ago.”

  The best man saddled up next to him and whispered in his ear. “I know this isn’t something you want to do. But I promise you, those two will kill me if I don’t get you up there.” He leaned back and pointed toward the couple. “Look at them, Carter. Do you really want to let them down?”

  Carter took in the sight of the two newlyweds. Jeff and Claire were good friends, practically family, and they looked so happy together. His shoulders fell in defeat. How could he say no? “All right. But don’t expect me to run after the damned thing.”

  “Whatever works, buddy.” Philip thumped Carter on the back. “As long as you’re there, I’m off the hook. I believe my work here as the best man is almost done.”

  “The car? Have you tied the cans and old shoes to their car?”

&
nbsp; “Actually, they’re driving off in a limo.” Philip headed toward the dance floor. “But don’t worry, the other guys and I are going finish everything up as soon as the garter is caught and the lucky bastard who catches it puts it on Leslie’s leg.”

  Shock rooted Carter’s feet to the carpet. “What the hell are you talking about?” He pulled Philip’s arm to stop the best man’s forward march, but with a little more force than he’d intended. Caught off guard, Philip stumbled backward.

  “You know…” Philip righted himself and brushed off his tuxedo jacket. “It’s that old wedding tradition where the guy who catches the garter puts it on the girl who caught the bouquet. Leslie caught the flowers, so whoever ends up with the garter gets the honor of pulling up her dress and sliding the garter up her right leg.” He waggled his eyebrows and nudged Carter on the shoulder. “And all of this goes on in front of the entire party, who seem to think this kind of thing is okay. Go figure.”

  Carter cut his gaze to the dance floor. At least twenty men, most in their late twenties to mid-thirties, milled about, waiting for their chance to grab the garter. The thought of any of those—those boys touching Leslie or rubbing their hand up her thigh caused Carter’s blood pressure to skyrocket.

  He pushed Philip out of his path. “Step aside. I’ve got work to do.”

  “Show them how it’s done, Carter,” Philip joked. “You da man.”

  Fueled by the need to claim Leslie as his own, at least in front of the over-dressed jackasses, Carter marched through the assembled men. He didn’t stop until he stood beside the groom who was down on one knee next to a seated Claire. Jeff held Claire’s shoeless foot in one hand. The other hand was poised to make its way up her leg.

  Carter bent forward and spoke directly into Jeff’s ear. “I’ll write you a check that will cover your entire honeymoon if you make sure that thing,” Carter pointed at the sapphire blue garter clinging to Claire’s tanned leg, “ends up in my hand after you toss it.” He leaned back and looked Jeff directly in the eye. “Do we have a deal?”

  Jeff frowned. “I don’t know, Carter. It’s hardly fair to these other guys.” He gestured to the men standing around the dance floor. “Plus my honeymoon is going to cost about twenty grand. Flying first class to Bora Bora and staying two weeks in a bungalow ain’t exactly cheap.”

  “I’ll give you thirty thousand.” He tamped down his desperation. “You and Claire can get massages every day or spend an extra week there. Just make damned sure that garter finds its way to me.”

  Jeff stared at up him, curious. “You really serious about this? That’s a lot of money for a garter.”

  “I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.” Carter patted the breast pocket of his suit jacket. “Just give me a pen to sign the check.”

  A deep furrow formed between Jeff’s brows, and he narrowed his eyes. “Carter, I don’t want your money. If you want the garter, it’s yours.”

  Glancing up at his former secretary, who stood next to the other bridesmaids on the far side of the parquet floor, Carter took in Leslie’s lovely face. Her calm, elegant composure that usually put him at such ease suddenly caused his chest to tighten and robbed him of the ability to breathe.

  I’ve never wanted a woman as much as I want this one. Ever. Hell, I’m hard as a rock just looking at her.

  Without having to give a second thought to his actions, Carter nodded at Jeff. “I want it.”

  Jeff’s gaze shifted from Carter to Leslie then back again. A mischievous grin spread across the young man’s face. “Then you’ve got it.”

  Still bent on one knee next to his new wife, Jeff took Claire’s leg and brushed his hand over her skin until he reached the garter. “All right men, here we go.”

  Placing a finger under the elasticized blue material, Jeff started to pull it down to her knee but then stopped. Without warning, he bent his head, grabbed the garter with his teeth, and proceeded to pull the small, elastic band with his mouth all the way to her ankle. Then he ran a finger up her bare foot, making her squeal, before removing the garter entirely.

  After planting a kiss on her foot, Jeff stood and raised his hand in the air, twirling the garter around his finger. A loud cheer was punctuated by several raunchy remarks. Strutting around the dance floor like professional boxer, Jeff displayed his prize for everyone to see. After completing a full circuit, he stopped and grabbed the microphone.

  “All right, guys. Take a good look at the beautiful Leslie over here. She’s the one you’ll be putting this thing on if you catch it.”

  Standing as still as a Grecian statue, Leslie looked up at Carter. He could have sworn he saw a mixture of nervousness and longing swirl within the depths of her hazel eyes. Seeing her look so anxious tore at his heart. The tightening in his chest intensified, becoming a sharp burn.

  What if I just picked her up and carried her out of here? Took her upstairs? Ripped off her clothes and plunged my cock deep inside her tight pussy?

  My god, what was happening to him? Since seeing her masturbate, he’d lost control of his thoughts. No. He’d lost his fucking mind. He needed to get hold of himself. With a deliberate effort Carter turned his attention back to the groom.

  As though preparing to send a giant rubber band flying across the dance floor, Jeff situated one finger inside the garter, then pulled the other side until the elastic was taut, teasing the crowd.

  I’llpummel any man who so much as lays a finger on her. She’s mine, damn it. Mine. Why have I been such a stupid ass as to waste all these years?

  Jeff completed a one-hundred-eighty degree turn on the heel of his patent leather shoe and released the stretchy garter into the air. The flimsy piece of sapphire blue material hit Carter’s shoulder and he automatically reached for it, catching it as it tumbled toward the floor. He looked up and narrowed his eyes, almost daring the other men to attempt to clam it.

  No one took a step in his direction.

  Instead, he heard a loud chorus of “Carter! Carter! Carter!” The chanting grew louder as more people added their voices. The air in the room and the wood dance floor almost vibrated with the intensity of sound.

  Jeff and Philip grabbed Carter’s elbows, manhandling him until he stood in front of Leslie, now sitting in Claire’s recently vacated chair. A blush bloomed on her cheeks and she bit her lip. She was just adorable. That was it. Along with everything else, she was adorable.

  “On your knees, man,” Philip directed. “This is the best part, and you damned sure don’t want to miss a thing.”

  An electric shudder of anticipation rippled down Carter’s spine, threatening to shatter his composure. Finally, he’d found his sign. No doubt about it. He would move forward with his plan without reservation or doubt. Being with Leslie tonight was meant to be.

  And Philip was more right than he could ever know. Carter didn’t want to miss a thing. Not a moment of it. He’d spent more afternoons than he cared to remember consumed with her smile, her soft spoken demeanor, and her incredible ass. Fantasy was a fingertip away from merging with reality. The notion of touching Leslie’s velvety skin and tracing the outline of her shapely leg sent his pulse surging. The swell of his cock inside his slacks confirmed his heart rate wasn’t the only thing rising.

  He knelt on one knee, propping the other knee as a resting place for Leslie’s delicate foot. As he prepared to lift her leg, the room suddenly became too stuffy and warm. Uncomfortable heat radiated from his groin and spread through his body, a fine sheen of sweat broke out on his skin. He was afraid if he didn’t take off his jacket, he’d suffocate. He shrugged out of it quickly and tossed it onto the floor. Still feeling way too hot, he loosened his tie. After sliding it over his head and pitching it on top of his jacket, he unbuttoned the first two buttons of his starched, white shirt.

  Leslie’s mouth curved in a coquettish smile. When she lowered her gaze and bit her lip, Carter came undone. She looked just as she had the last time he’d seen her, pleasuring herse
lf. Except the last time she hadn’t known he was watching.

  ****

  If someone had told her Carter Lang would one day run his hand up her dress with over two hundred people watching, Leslie never would have believed the prediction. Yet, here she was, sitting on a chair in the middle of a dance floor with her bridesmaid’s gown hiked up to her thighs and Carter tucked between her legs for everyone to see.

  Could anything be more erotic?

  Not wanting her former boss to see her excitement, she looked away and bit her lip. A wave of hot juices rushed over her pussy and dampened her flimsy panties. She wanted to reach down and rub her clit, but didn’t dare. Tempting as the notion might be to behave inappropriately with Carter watching, she couldn’t live out this particular fantasy.

  Not here, not now. Not with all these people watching.

  Later, she told herself. If she could just convince Carter that spending the evening in bed with her was a good idea, she most certainly would make her fantasy reality. She was leaving for Chicago in two days. What did either of them have to lose?

  One time. Just one time. Surely he can give me that.

  For now, she sucked in a deep breath to quiet her racing pulse. Traces of Carter’s spicy cologne teased her senses, enveloping her like a warm embrace. Unfortunately, the familiar scent also increased the ache of unfulfilled desire for the man she’d called boss for the last ten years.

  Growing bolder than she thought she was capable of, at least in such a public gathering, Leslie opened her legs wider, as though making enough room for Carter to pull the lacy little garter over her calves and up her thigh. The moment she did, he uttered a groan, barely audible over the raucous crowd’s chanting of his name.

  His reaction was a pleasant and unexpected surprised. She raised her gaze to his, noting the golden amber of his irises darken with sexual hunger.

  Wow!

  She’d seen that smoldering look many times in the years she worked for him, but for all her trying to get him to act on his basic carnal impulses, he hadn’t ever so much as touched her.