Not Another Wedding

by Jennifer Mckenzie

  “No.” He pulled back and his eyes were hot on hers. “This is nothing like then.”

  And all the reasons why she thought this was a bad idea melted away.

  She shouldn’t believe him. She’d been through this before and come out bruised. But she wanted to trust him. He looked so sincere, so sweet and so sad. She put both hands on his face.

  His eyes got dark and he pressed toward her. “Are you sure?”

  No, she wasn’t sure, but she couldn’t deny the building need inside her. This might be a mistake and after tonight he’d never call her again. Maybe she’d have to face the wedding knowing she’d been a complete fool. But she’d have tonight. And right now, that seemed like enough. She kissed him.

  His hands threaded through her hair as he kissed her back and dragged her onto his lap. She placed her hands on his shoulders for balance. Her head swam. She was doing this. Nothing and no one could stop her. And she didn’t want them to.

  She sucked in a sharp breath when he ran a hand along the side of her neck. She loved his hands on her, his lips, his tongue, lighting her up from the inside.

  “Is that a yes?”

  She rotated her body against his, liking the low groan that rolled out of him. “I haven’t decided yet.”

  “Good enough.” He kissed her again, a long, hot kiss.

  She realized he was right. This was nothing like it had been back then. This was so, so much better. She ran her hands down his back, tracing his bunching muscles, pulling at the back of his shirt.

  He placed his hand under her butt, settling her more firmly against him, and stood, lifting her with him. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his waist. He kissed her harder and started toward the stairs. “Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

  She linked her hands around the back of his neck and smiled. “Now.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  POPPY WRESTLED WITH the neck of her blazer as he carted her up the stairs. It was too tight and she was too hot. Everything was in the way of getting closer to Beck. She tried to loosen it, not caring if the stupid thing ripped under her yanking. She had plenty more at home. But the material was trapped between them. She pulled anyway.

  Beck laughed. “No need to rush. Plenty of time for that.”

  She scowled at him, intending to inform him she was just a little warm and maybe her actions had nothing to do with him at all, but the words caught in her throat when she caught a glimpse of his eyes. They radiated hunger and all the delicious ways he planned to satisfy her. Maybe it had a little to do with him.

  He kicked open the door to his room and lowered her onto the bed. His dark hair was mussed and silky to the touch. A sharp curl of pleasure radiated through her as he hovered over her body. “Much better.” He braced his arms on either side of her and drew closer. “I’ve missed you, Poppy.”

  He’d missed her. The words whispered across her neck, making promises she intended both of them to keep, but his lips didn’t touch her. Longing poured through her. She wouldn’t say it out loud, probably wouldn’t have even dared to think it had he not brought it up, but she’d missed him, too. A lot.

  Slowly, he eased her up, slid her arms free of her blazer and tossed it across the room. She shivered and reached out for him.

  He brushed his cheek across hers, his beard bristling and tickling against her skin, before kissing her softly. It surprised her, the gentleness and how natural it seemed. Evan had always mashed his mouth against her, trying to get to the main event as quickly as possible, as if it was something to be hurried instead of savored.

  Beck was all about the savoring. He nibbled the corners of her lips, while his fingers stroked the sides of her face before sliding down, along her neck, over her shoulders, along her arms to her waist. She sucked in a breath, felt him smile against her lips.

  “I like this shirt.” He fingered the filmy material. “But I’ll like it better off.”

  She’d like it better off, too.

  His hands moved beneath the hem, leaving goose bumps across her skin. The shirt landed with a flutter beside the blazer and she lay in front of him in only her bra. Her excellent, lacy push-up bra that created cleavage where none should exist.

  A wave of shyness swept through her. What if he’d been thinking she’d filled out up top since high school? That her chest was all natural instead of thanks to the miracles of underwire and well-placed padding?

  Beck captured her hands and pulled them away from her body when she tried to cover up. “No, I want to look at you.”

  She let him draw her arms open and look his fill. She still wished she had larger breasts, but she liked her flat stomach and the slight curve of her hips. Years ago, she’d come to the conclusion nature had a way of evening things out.

  “You’re more beautiful than I remember.”

  She blushed with both pleasure and embarrassment and tried to cover herself again.

  “Not yet.”

  His fingers circled her wrists, preventing her from moving them. He was bigger and stronger and the fact was, she enjoyed knowing he wanted to look at her. She watched a small smile curve his lips as his eyes took in everything. His voice was gritty when he spoke again. “God, you’re gorgeous. I could eat you up.”

  “Please do.” Her breasts—small though they were—puckered under his gaze, and she sighed when he took that for the invitation it was and flicked his tongue across them through the lacy material. She arched against him, sparks of heat dancing through her.

  She hadn’t been fooling anyone pretending she didn’t want this, didn’t want him.

  She wasn’t usually like this, but every time her brain tried to engage, Beck licked or teased or touched and she’d be lost again. She loved every minute of it.

  She ran her hands through his hair, loving how the strands flowed through her fingers. Even though it was longer than she liked, it suited him. She wrapped her fingers in it and closed her eyes as he expertly unhooked her bra and flicked his tongue across her bared nipple.

  Desire shot through her. She wanted out of her clothes. And she wanted him out of his clothes, too, so his bare skin rubbed against hers for the first time in too long.

  Beck was only too happy to oblige, sitting back when she began unbuttoning his shirt and helping when she slowed to kiss him. He shrugged it off. Poppy thought she heard a rip, but then he pressed against her, the light matting of hair on his chest rubbing her sensitized nipples, and she didn’t care if his shirt was ruined.

  Their mouths locked together, reaching and straining as they found each other’s rhythms and adjusted to match. His tongue toyed with hers, playing and tracing, leaving little fires in its wake. She clutched his shoulders, wanting him closer, needing to crawl inside him so they were bonded completely and nothing could get between them. She ran her hands down his back and slid her hands into the seat of his pants.

  He had a world-class butt. Round and firm. She slipped her hands beneath his underwear and smoothed her fingers over the bunched muscles. She would tear off his pants, too, in about 1.2 seconds, if he didn’t get them off.

  Beck’s fingers fumbled at the front of her pants, popping open the button and dragging them over her thighs. His breath came faster, harder, rasping against the side of her neck when he pulled back to work her pants off. But the tight denim wasn’t as ready to give in as Poppy was. It clung to her legs and caught around her left knee. He yanked and yanked again.

  “What the hell did you do to these?” He looked completely flummoxed. His hair stood up where she’d run her fingers through it, a low flush on his face, his brow furrowed as he finally quit pulling on her jeans and stared at them as though by sheer will alone he could convince them to remove themselves.

  Poppy started to laugh. “They’re twisted.” She reached down to loosen the material, but Beck br
ushed her hands away.

  “No.” He tugged, letting his hand run the length of her bared thigh. “I want to do this. If I have to chew through them, these pants are coming off now.”

  So Poppy lay back and let him work. Enjoying the view of his broad chest as it flexed and the delicate way he handled her, even as he fought with the tight denim. She sort of liked the idea of him removing her pants with his teeth. He grinned when she told him.

  “Oh, yeah?”

  She nodded and sucked in a loud breath when he finally pulled the jeans the rest of the way off and trailed his mouth along the inside of her leg.

  “Much better.” He tossed the jeans onto the floor and returned to licking his way up her body.

  Her heart tried to pound its way out of her chest and her breath came in gasps. Why had she ever considered turning him down? She’d have missed out on all this. His beard scraping against her tender skin. Hands clutching her hips to hold her in place.

  His mouth left a heated trail as he climbed back up her body. He tongued her nipple, slowly at first in long, lapping circles then faster. Caught it between his teeth and tugged. An answering pull emerged between her thighs. Her eyes drifted closed as need swamped her.

  He laced his fingers through hers, dragged her arms over her head, exposing her body to him. She wrapped her legs around his hips. He still wore his pants. The material rasped against her. She wanted them off. Now.

  “Beck.” She barely heard her own whisper over the thundering of her pulse.

  He didn’t move from his careful exploration of her body. His tongue was doing magical things and she returned to letting him, writhing under the soft strokes. She should have agreed to this earlier. At the beginning of the week. She could have spent the last few days in his bed letting him worship her with his body.

  She raised her knees, rubbed her toes on his legs. Only she got a light wool blend instead of skin contact. “Beck.”

  Her voice was loud enough to get his attention this time. He lifted his head. Even though the light was dim, only the moon shining through the window, she saw the gleam in his eyes. And he was hungry.

  “Don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind.”

  “No.” She shook her head slowly, wondering if the same naked need shone out of her face.

  He didn’t give her the chance to say why she’d called his name, shucking off his pants and boxers in one smooth move and resettling between her thighs.

  His hands cupped her breasts. His lips seared to hers. She moaned into his mouth. She’d waited far too long for this.

  Beck responded by catching her bottom lip between his teeth and licking his way into her mouth. He tasted as good as he smelled. He hooked his thumbs under her panties, so she was naked, too. His hard body brushed against hers. There was no going back. Not that she’d want to. Her body was screaming for him. This was so right.

  When he stripped off her underwear, she only wanted him inside her.

  But Beck had other things in mind. His tongue dipped into the hollow of her stomach and swirled a slow, liquid pattern. His hands were on her knees, spreading them wider.

  Her head fell back against the bed when at last he put his head between her thighs. His tongue traced the tiniest loops. Her fingers tangled in his hair. She would die a very happy woman.

  He licked again. A very, very happy woman.

  Seriously, that tongue. His was a tongue for the ages. An amazing, fantastic, should-be-bronzed-for-posterity tongue that flicked and teased, drawing out every breath of air in her lungs until she wanted to cry from the pleasure and the agony.

  And then she did.

  “Oh, God.”

  He simply smiled. She would have been embarrassed by the intimacy, but the overwhelming waves of release were too good. Her limbs wobbled, loose and relaxed, all the previous tension gone in a throb of heat.

  Part of her wanted to curl up like a well-fed kitten, nestle her body against his, tuck her head into the crook of his arm and rest. But Beck rose before her, his body hard and proud. Adrenaline pulsed through her, and suddenly Poppy was wide awake and hungrier than she’d ever been in her life. She sat up and when Beck made to move on top of her she said, “No,” and pushed him onto his back.

  She wriggled over top of him, her body still buzzing, and lowered her head to return the favor. His skin was velvety. She kissed her way down from his neck, over his rock-hard abs, until she snuggled between his thighs. Then reached out to stroke him once.

  “Christ.” It was a strangled gasp from above.

  Now it was her turn to taste. She drew him into her mouth, felt the length of him grow and swell as his hands tangled in her hair. His knees began to sag as she stroked and sucked. Poppy sensed the pressure building inside him, loved being the one in charge. She knew he was close when his fingers gripped tighter and his breath turned harsh. His hips began to jerk back and forth.

  But he stopped her, placing pressure against her shoulders until she had to pull back. “Not this time,” he said, flipping her on her back again. He rose above her, reaching into the nightstand to grab a condom. She helped him roll it on, wanting his body joined with hers.

  He moved between her thighs, nudging her knees farther apart, and sank inside her. She gasped and welcomed the filling sensation. He began to move against her, a slow, steady rhythm that made her heart skip, her blood heat and her body long for more. Her nails scored his back as she pulled him closer, pressed herself against him.

  This was so good, better than good. She let her head fall backward as they moved. His hands bit into her hips, anchoring her in place while he moved inside her. And then she was calling his name and breaking apart. He growled something in her ear, but she only held on until the waves subsided.

  His head rested against her neck, his breath floated across her skin. She was safe and sated and pretty sure she wouldn’t be moving for at least a week. So it was a good thing she already knew Beck was up to the challenge of carrying her.

  “I’m glad you came to the wedding.”

  Poppy let her fingers twirl through the ends of Beck’s hair. “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yeah.” He shifted his head to study her, his gaze intense and hot. “Don’t say you don’t feel the same way.”

  She did, but she didn’t want to give him a big ego, so she shrugged.

  He rolled and pinned her body beneath his. “Playing hard to get now?”

  “I’m not playing anything.” She met his gaze and her stomach clenched. “Are you?”

  His expression grew serious. “No.” He leaned up on one elbow, running one hand down the side of her body. She trembled under the onslaught. “There’s something I should tell you.”

  Poppy swallowed, all that lovely languorous warmth slid away. Had anything good ever come of someone saying they needed to tell you something? Still, she tried not to jump to conclusions. Maybe he wanted to say this was the best night of his life. Or that he’d never felt like this about anyone before.

  “Oh? What’s that?” If he said he had a girlfriend, she would have to kill him. And she did not look good in orange.

  “It’s about Emmy.”

  Poppy frowned, trying to compute. Emmy? What did Emmy have to do with this?

  “She’s not a gold digger.”

  Poppy blinked at him. “How do you know?”

  “We do business with her family.” He paused. “They’re rich.”

  “Oh.” She should probably be angry he hadn’t told her this immediately. That he’d tricked her into acting as if they were dating for no reason at all. But she was too satisfied to work up much of a mad. “Why didn’t you tell me this right away?”

  “You’re not upset?”

  “I’m relieved.” It was a load off to know Emmy had no designs on Jamie’s bank accounts and vineyard. “I�
�m still not crazy about the idea of them rushing into marriage, but...” She trailed off. “Why the big secret?”

  “You mean, why didn’t I tell you everything when the first time you saw me you pretended not to know who I was and ran away?”

  “I did not run. I walked.” A smile flitted around the edges of her mouth. “And you deserved to be forgotten.”

  “You didn’t forget me.” He traced a finger around her lips. “But you tried.” He laughed when she tried to bite the tip. “And the reason I didn’t tell you is I needed a way to make you talk to me.”

  “I talked to you.”

  “Only when I chased you down and trapped you in the hallway.” He kissed her again. “I didn’t want to come to this week of wedding festivities.” She’d already gotten that impression, but this was the first time he’d said anything aloud. He was sharing. Her heart thumped. “When I saw you, I started to think it might not be so bad.”

  Her pulse skipped a beat. “And what about Grace? Was that all a lie, too?”

  “No.” He ran his hand through her hair, twisted his fingers in it. “My mother really does want me to settle down and get married. She loves weddings. And she definitely thought Grace and I might be a match.” He stroked a finger down her neck. “But it was mostly a convenient way to get you to spend some time with me. If I’d told you that you didn’t have to worry about Emmy, you never would have looked at me again.”

  “True.”

  “You would have peeked at me from the side whenever you thought I wasn’t paying attention.” She smothered her laugh. “I’m not sorry I didn’t tell you,” he said. “But I didn’t want that hanging between us anymore.”

  “I’m glad you told me.” More than glad, but she didn’t want to think about that now. Not when she had this big, yummy, delicious man in bed with her.

  “How glad?” There was a devilish gleam in his eye.

  “Enough.” It seemed Beck had a similar idea. Her body shifted toward his, already they were moving and thinking as a unit. How delightful.