by Laney Powell
What the hell? “Sure. That would be fun,” I said.
He stood, offering me his hand. I took it, feeling a zing that went straight to my lady bits at his touch. What the hell? I’d known this guy for years.
“I’m always fun,” Sebastian said.
“I’ve heard that,” I was unable to keep the dry tone out of my voice.
“Good to know my rep proceeds me,” he said, his own tone light. Then he led me out onto the dance floor and twirled me around.
One thing I’m proud of is that I can dance. My mother loved all the old dances, and I was often her partner in our dark living room, swaying and twirling around with her. She loved the old stuff. Consequently, I could do swing, the Boogie Woogie, the bunny hop, Calypso, the jive, and the Jitterbug.
Apparently, so could Sebastian. He led, his eyebrows up as he swung me around and I followed like we’d been dancing together for years.
Damn. He was good. Why did he have to have all the good things? He was the guy who just wanted to get laid and have a good time. Nothing more.
Then I gave myself a mental kick. Hadn’t that been my plan, although maybe not the getting laid part? Screw it. I threw myself into dancing. When the band finished, I was sweating, and there was a smattering of applause from the surrounding people.
“Wow. Mallory Simmons, I did not expect that,” Sebastian tucked my arm in his. “You’re putting me through my steps. I need a cool drink before you make me pass out or something.”
“Stop it,” I said, laughing. “You didn’t even break a sweat.”
“What, you’re ready to go again?” There was a challenge in his words.
“Always,” I said, giving him a cheeky grin of my own. This was exactly what I needed.
Sebastian
I would have never guessed Mallory Simmons would be such a good dancer. I felt a surge of lust as we headed back out onto the floor. I’d felt a spark that felt the way you did when you touched a light socket. A literal spark. Feeling that with someone I already knew? It’s like finding a twenty in your back pocket that you’d forgotten was there. I’d known her since freshman year, probably hit on her, but she started dating Chase Berman, and she was obviously one of those girls who was all in when she dated. She was good friends with Leslie, I knew that. But I never saw her without Chase the douche, and we all knew he screwed around. No one wanted to tell her though. Leslie found out after grad, and I thought she was going to kill Jason.
He was here—Chase, that was. With some overly made up smoky eyed woman. The woman was hanging onto him like he was a precious jewel. I’d seen them drama llama-ing all over the place, and they kept passing by the head table where Mallory sat. I remembered then, hearing about the major break up.
Once a dick, always a dick. So, what better way to help a friend, even a distant friend, out? Ask her to dance. I was pretty sure that I was better looking than Chase-the-douche on my worst day. Today I was rocking a tux.
“Well, hang on, sister,” I said. My grandmom, who watched me while my mom worked, had forced me to learn how to dance. And play piano. She said that well-rounded men knew how to do these things. When I got older, she’d make me take her to dances. For an old lady, she was spry to the end. I missed her. Dancing was something that made me feel good, because even when I’d been bitching, I’d loved hanging out with my grandmom.
Grandmom loved swing and rock ‘n’ roll dancing. I pulled Mallory close to me, and then sent her out in a spin, nearly hitting Chase and his spider woman. The woman spat something, probably something not pleasant, and I twirled Mallory away.
Maybe they’d get the hint.
The woman was leading him, I was sure, because they were close to us again. I spun Mallory close to me, leaning down to whisper into her ear. She smelled warm and like flowers. The petals of whatever it was she was wearing in her hair tickled my cheek. “Your ex is determined to be all in my space, so I’m going to pull you close like this is a thing, OK?”
I felt her sag against me for a moment and then her shoulders straightened, almost as though it hadn’t happened. “God, they just hold a grudge. Like I was the one fucking around on them, or something.”
“She’s got that look, the one of a serial grudge holder,” I said, letting my eyes slide over to where Chase and his lady friend were whispering intently. “It’s a little crazy. I mean, really?”
Mallory looked up, and I rolled my eyes dramatically. “We’re all supposed to be adults here,” I whispered with great emphasis.
She laughed, as I hoped she would. I might be a casual date, but I hated to see women cry. And I was never deliberately unkind to any of the women I was involved with. This—what Chase was doing, and at his friend’s wedding, no less—was unkind and high on the dick list.
Once a douche, always a douche.
I held Mallory close. She felt good. She wasn’t as tall as I was, but she came up to my shoulder. Her head nestled against me, and I felt myself relax a little, liking the feel of her in my arms. She was attractive—I’d always thought so. But I didn’t go for women who were taken. That was a no-fly zone.
“Thanks,” she said softly into my neck.
Her breath against me sent a shiver through my entire body. I leaned down. “You’re welcome. I hate seeing people be assholes.”
Mallory looked up, laughing. “Are you kidding me?”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Do you know how many hearts you broke over the four years you were at school?”
“Not many?” I asked. “I’m always honest with anyone I’m involved with.”
“Can’t stop feelings,” she said.
“Oh, now there, I have to disagree,” I tucked her hand close to me, curling it up next to my chest. I liked holding her. I liked looking down and seeing her smiling up at me. “You just have to decide you’re not going to let your feelings get involved. It’s a matter of choice, and discipline.”
Mallory laughed out loud again. “And that works for you? You’ve never regretted letting someone get away?”
She must know a lot of my former friends. “No. I liked them, they liked me, we hung out, had fun, and then moved on.” I shrugged. “No strings, no lies.”
Mallory smiled knowingly. “OK, you tell yourself that.”
“I’m only responsible for my feelings and actions,” I said smoothly.
Her face changed then. “That’s true. And you’re being really kind to me right now.”
“What do you mean?” I asked innocently.
“Dancing with me so the terrible two don’t come over and gloat again,” her voice held a note of despair. It was just barely there, but I heard it.
“Nope,” I said. “I was inspired by your beauty, and someone who looks as gorgeous as you has no business sitting alone. Now that I know how well you can dance, I plan to dance with you all night long,” I finished.
“Thank you,” she said simply.
“You’re welcome. But it’s really my pleasure,” I said. I found that I meant it, even as she teased me about my reputation.
Two hours later, we were sweaty and laughing, and slightly tipsy. We’d both had a bit to drink, and that made everything funnier. We were sitting at the head table and talking about life since school.
“This has been really fun,” Mallory said. “But I think I’m going to call it a night.”
I stood up, taking her hand. “I’ll walk you to your room,” I said. Jason and Leslie had booked the wedding party rooms at the hotel.
“No, you don’t have to do that,” she said, her face flushing.
“Yes, I do. We’ve put on a good show all night. If you leave alone, it blows the whole deal,” I said. “Besides, I think Clinger is starting to feel like she got the raw end of the deal.”
Mallory glanced across the room where Chase and his girlfriend were standing. A flash of pain crossed her face and then disappeared. “You think so?” The hope in her voice was palpable.
“I do. And
he’s sloppy seconds.” I didn’t know the details, but I could tell the signs of a woman who got exactly what she thought she wanted, only to realize her new, shiny man wasn’t really shiny at all.
“OK. Can’t drop the charade now,” she said, standing up.
My heart skipped a beat when she said that. It was a charade, but—I’d found that I’d really enjoyed hanging out with her tonight. She was a great dancer, she was smart, she was interesting, she liked food, she was a techie, working in some kind of IT at one of the companies outside of Boulder, and she was brave. I could see that it hurt her to see her ex, but she wouldn’t let him know it. I admired bravery.
I held her hand and led her from the room, feeling the eyes of a lot of people on me. I knew that I’d hear about this from Leslie via Jason. There’d be time to deal with that later. “Where’s your room?” I whispered to her, a smile on my face.
“Eight seventeen,” she said.
“Oh, you’re one floor down from me. Come on.” We walked to the elevator and got on. I pushed the button for eight. I also kept hold of her hand. I’d have to examine this later, but it felt right for now.
When the doors opened, I walked off first, still leading her, and brought her to her room door. She dropped my hand and pulled a room key from her small bag. “Thanks for this,” she said as she opened the door.
Just as Mallory was about to walk in, I caught her hand and pulled her to me. I kissed her, feeling my cock go from zero to sixty at the touch of her lips on mine. My arm went around her waist, with the other one cradling her head. I kissed her roughly, feeling off balance with how much I wanted to follow her in and peel off her dress and fuck her all night long.
Mallory
Oh, my God. Sebastian Colton is kissing me. More Oh, my God. He’s a really good kisser. Even more Oh, my God!
I liked it. A lot. As his tongue explored my mouth, I find my arms twining around his neck. I pulled myself closer to him, snugging against his body. I can feel his hardness against me, and boy, oh boy. Sebastian Colton is rock hard everywhere I am touching him.
Everywhere. My hands run up and down his body, wanting to feel him under his clothing, his skin against mine. He’s hot, warming my hands everywhere I touch him. His hands move to the back of my dress, finding the zipper as he backs me into my room.
The door closes with a gentle slam, encasing us in darkness. I fumble with his jacket, and he shrugs it to the floor. Then I reached for his bow tie, which proves to be more of a challenge. Meanwhile, he’s unzipped my dress and slid the shoulders down, bending at the same time to kiss my neck where it met my shoulder. His lips sent a thrill through my entire body, and I felt my panties get wet.
“Oh, God,” I whisper. Sebastian Colton. This is Sebastian Colton.
The thought is like cold water hitting me. This is Sebastian Colton, the walking equivalent of sexual social media. Everyone has been part of it. My hands come up and brace against his shoulders, pushing him away as I do so.
“Is everything all right?” His voice comes out like a purr.
I feel my legs clench as it rolls over me. Jesus. Is everything about this guy sexy, or what? He should come with a warning sign. “No, uh… no. Sebastian, you are… but I can’t,” I stammer, unable to calm my pounding heart or hormones or speak a complete sentence.
He leans into me and kisses my forehead. He groans a little and then steps back. “OK. You’re the boss.” He kisses me again, and gently pulls the straps of my dress back up over my shoulders. “But I need to give you one more chance. Are you sure?” His fingers trail down my jawline and my neck, and my whole body wants nothing more than to fall into him and keep him with me all night.
“I’m sure,” I said, hoping my voice sounded steady. He was still touching me, so I couldn’t focus.
Sebastian leaned down and kissed my lips, letting them linger on mine.
Jesus, I thought.
“Thank you for the dancing, and for the good-night kiss,” he said, and I could tell that he was smiling.
He’s smiling. After I turned him down. Am I making a mistake? I can’t think straight, so I have no idea. “Thank you for… uh… for dancing with me and walking me back.” He did save me from my ex and his harpy, and I can’t forget that.
“It was my pleasure, Mallory,” Sebastian said. He kissed my lips this time, soft and gentle. Then he walked to the door and waved as he left, the bright light from the hallway silhouetting him. The door closed behind him and I was alone in the dark.
Sebastian
Damn it. I’m going to have to go back to my own room and take care of this. I haven’t wanted anyone like I wanted Mallory in a while. And it wasn’t just sex. I can tell myself that was it all I want, but it’s not honest, and I don’t lie to myself.
There was something there. Touching her was amazing. She’s a good dancer. She’s funny and smart. Away from Chase, she was an interesting woman. I’d never noticed her before outside of being his girlfriend.
But now I had, and I was disappointed that she’d put the brakes on. Not that I’d push. That was another thing my grandmom had taught me, outside of being a smoothie on the dance floor. When a woman said no, you stood up, made nice, and politely left. No matter what.
Grandmom threatening me with a meat cleaver close to my manly bits might have had something to do with that as well. At least initially. But as I got older, I realized she was right. By letting women lead, I wasn’t ever an asshole, and that counted for a lot.
It’s why I got along with all the women I’d dated. Although if Mallory was correct, perhaps a few nursed more hurt feelings than they let on?
Then I mentally shrugged that off. That wasn’t on me to manage. What was on me was to manage this hard on that wasn’t quitting. I’d nearly lost it when Mallory’s head fell back, and she moaned. The thought that I was giving her that much enjoyment was the best aphrodisiac ever.
Damn it. I’d told her I didn’t have many regrets, and I didn’t. But tonight would be definitely one of my first.
Three weeks later
Cara & Brock’s Wedding
Mallory
I’m in this wedding also, wearing a wine-colored long dress. It’s a late afternoon wedding, although they’re calling it an evening thing. I’ve spent the last three weeks kicking my own ass.
Why? Because I let Sebastian Colton walk out of my hotel room. I shouldn’t have. I have been stalking him on social media, although I didn’t send him a friend request. Then he sent me one, although he didn’t make any other move outside of that.
He posted pictures from Leslie’s wedding, and in it, there are a couple of us dancing. We both look happy, and like we were laughing right before the pictures were taken. I didn’t even notice the photographer taking our pictures. The rest are of him with Mark, and the other groomsmen. And one of him hamming it up with Leslie.
I saved the pictures of the two of us. And I castigate myself for being so ridiculous. So after all my mental gymnastics non-stop for the past three weeks, I’ve decided that this time, I’m not going to say no.
In preparation, I have massively sexy undergarments. Light blue, all sorts of lace, and I’m wearing a garter. My stockings are seamed. I’ve been to see my waxing lady, and everything is sorted on that front. I’m ready.
I won’t be saying no tonight. I check myself in the mirror and blow a kiss at myself. If there is anything else I could do better or tart up further, I don’t know what it is. My insides warm at the thought of Sebastian putting his hands and lips all over me.
Not much longer now. I take the elevator down to where Cara is getting ready. Most of the other bridesmaids are getting ready with her, but I told her I’d just run up and get myself together. I needed to make sure that when I got out of my clothes, everything was as I wanted.
When I walk into her suite, it’s a mad house. Leslie, beaming from a two-week honeymoon, spots me. “Mal! There you are! You look amazing. Now please get your ass over here and help me get C
ara into this thing.” She gestures at the dress, hanging off a hook on the wall. It’s a fairy tale princesses’ dream, and it’s huge.
Together, Leslie and I lift it down, and carefully lower it over Cara’s head. Her face, pink and with a hint of nervousness, emerges. We button the back and start adjusting the train. Talia comes over with a portable steamer to touch up the hem.
“Cara, you are a vision,” I said.
She turns to me. “I hope Brock thinks so.”
“We’ll kick his ass if he doesn’t,” Talia says from down near the floor. “He wouldn’t care if you were wearing a paper bag, Cara. Relax.”
“It’s hard,” Cara confesses. “I keep thinking about all the things that could go wrong.”
“Not with your mom overseeing everything,” Leslie whispers loud enough for all three of us to hear. Which makes all of us, even Cara, burst into laughter. Her mom is like a force of nature. Either hang on or get out of the way. She has run this wedding with an iron fist. That seems to be a theme. I didn’t realize my friends had so many tough women in their lives.
I spot her coming in and cough, which makes all of us stop laughing.
“Cara, honey, turn around,” Barb, her mom says. Her voice is softer than the normal tone she’s had during the time leading up to this.
Cara spins and Barb’s hand come to her mouth. Tears spring to her eyes. “Honey, you are a vision.” Mother and daughter smile at one another and I feel tears prick my own eyes.
“Thank you for everything, Mom,” Cara reaches out and squeezes her mom’s hands. “It’s going to be gorgeous.”
“Damn right,” Barb snaps, and like that, the boss lady is back. “Speaking of which, we have a change in the groomsmen. Mallory, you’re not going to be with Tim today. Your partner is Sebastian Colton. You know him, right?”
I can feel the heat rush to my cheeks, but I look up and nod casually. “Yes, I do.”