From This Day Forward

by Lauren Layne

  Somehow he’d known. Known that she’d be crying. Known that she’d need help.

  And he’d been there for her.

  Other than brief exchanges over who would cover what angle of the first dance, they hadn’t spoken since.

  As Leah packed up her equipment, she told herself that it was for the best. It was better to let that moment during the ceremony be nothing but a brief moment of kindness from a good man, rather than a moment between lovers.

  It was dangerous to let herself think that it might have been a moment between two people who cared.

  As though he hadn’t left the rehearsal dinner with some hot blonde in a sparkling dress.

  Leah swallowed hard at the memory of what it had felt like when he’d put his hand on the other woman. Thank goodness for Alexis’s presence. The always-collected wedding planner had stepped in front of Leah before she could do anything rash.

  If you want him, go get him. If you don’t . . . let him go.

  It had been good advice.

  It had also been a hell of a lot easier said than done. Because Leah did want Jason. She just didn’t want him and all the other women.

  “Hey, sweetie, how you holding up? As exhausted as me?”

  Leah glanced up to see Heather Fowler, one of Alexis’s wedding planners, smiling down at her.

  “Ugh, yes,” Leah said as she stood and slung the strap of her camera bag over her shoulder. “Why is it that we don’t build up any stamina for these things? Each one seems to wipe me out even more than the last.”

  Heather shrugged. “It’s because we care. It’s not just a job to us.”

  Leah nodded, distractedly. She liked Heather. She considered the curly-haired spitfire a friend of sorts. But Heather was also tight with Jason. Leah had seen them talking just moments before he’d walked out last night with the hot blonde.

  It was taking all of her self-control not to beg Heather for details.

  Perhaps Heather was in tune with Leah’s turmoil, because she lifted her arm, holding out a champagne bottle that Leah hadn’t noticed before. “Alexis said you’d want this. It’s on the Belles.”

  Leah smiled. Good old Alexis—noticing every detail, even when it wasn’t related to the client.

  For as long as she could remember, Leah had celebrated the end of a wedding with some much-needed solitude and champagne. She usually stopped somewhere to get a bottle of her own, but tonight, she happily accepted the gift from her friends.

  She knew exactly where she wanted to drink it, too.

  “Thanks, babe,” she said, blowing Heather a kiss.

  Without meaning to, Leah’s eyes scanned the reception area for Jason and came up empty. Most likely he was already helping some skinny wedding guest out of her thong.

  Swallowing the hurt, Leah lifted the bottle in thanks. “Tell Alexis I owe her one.”

  Heather nodded.

  Leah had taken only three steps when the other woman called her name. She turned. “What’s up?”

  Heather bit her lip, clearly conflicted, before she closed the short gap between them, lowering her voice to a whisper. “He didn’t sleep with her.”

  Leah frowned. “What?”

  “The blond woman last night. Jason didn’t sleep with her.”

  Leah’s heart thudded. “I don’t ca—”

  “You do care,” Heather said emphatically. “Honestly, you two are pissing me off. Anyway, Alexis and I ended up at the same restaurant as them last night. He sat there for about twenty minutes looking bored, before he paid up and left. Alone.”

  It shouldn’t have mattered as much as it did, but . . .

  Leah stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Heather, squeezing hard. “Thank you.”

  Heather squeezed her back. “You two are ridiculous. Work it out.”

  Leah didn’t know what to say to that, so instead she just kissed her friend’s cheek, gave her a little finger waggle, and then headed out into the warm evening, champagne bottle in hand.

  The wedding reception had been held at one of the Hamptons’ most exclusive resorts. They’d rented the entire property, leaving both the indoor and outdoor spaces available for use, so guests could wander between the two.

  Leah made her way across the patio as the caterers started the long, slow cleanup process, smiling at the tipsy laughter of some of the leftover guests.

  As one would expect from the wedding of a former president’s daughter, the decor was both lavish and tasteful, with white candles covering every available surface, and the pale-pink-and-mint-green color scheme providing the perfect combination of timeless and trendy.

  Alexis and her team had outdone themselves, but beautiful as the venue was, Leah was all too eager to get away from it. To have a chance to breathe.

  Leah had opted for a tasteful black dress for the wedding, just dressy enough not to be distracting, but comfortable enough that she could move around easily. Her shoes were new—black wedge pumps that had seemed perfectly comfortable at the beginning of the evening.

  Now? Not so much.

  Leah paused on the last step leading down to the beach, kicking off her shoes and shoving them into her oversized bag before stepping onto the sand.

  She let out an audible sigh of relief. Bliss. Pure bliss.

  It was cliché, but Leah had always loved the sand between her toes, and it was a sensation she didn’t get nearly enough.

  The Hamptons beaches were almost always crowded during the summer months, but at half past one in the morning, she nearly had the beach to herself, and she breathed in relief.

  Inhaling the salty ocean air, Leah walked toward the water, stopping when she was close enough for the sound of the waves to drown out the sound of a nearby bonfire, but not so close that she’d get wet.

  After double-checking to make sure her bag was all the way zipped to protect her camera from sand, she dropped down with a long sigh of relief at finally being off her feet.

  Not caring in the least that her new, expensive dress was getting covered in sand, Leah stretched her legs forward, burying her toes before tilting her head up to the clear night sky.

  It wasn’t a full moon. Not a crescent moon, either. Just sort of an odd part of the lunar cycle that gave the moon a strange, misshapen appearance, but that was okay. The night was still pretty close to perfect, if a bit lonely.

  Reaching for the champagne, she removed the foil and twisted off the cork with a satisfying pop and hiss before she realized she’d forgotten a glass.

  Leah shrugged. Oh well.

  With nobody around to see or judge, she shamelessly tilted the bottle back to her lips and took a long, satisfying sip.

  Alexis had splurged on the good stuff, and the crisp bubbly liquid felt like heaven on her tongue.

  “Looks like you won’t be needing these after all.”

  Leah whipped her head around, startled by the interruption. And even more startled to see two long-stemmed champagne flutes dangling from a masculine hand.

  Even before her eyes trailed up the buff male body, Leah knew whose face she would see.

  It was exactly the one she wanted to see, even as she’d been telling herself desperately that she didn’t.

  “Hi,” she said quietly.

  In response, Jason lowered himself to the sand beside her. He’d ditched his shoes as well, and while the dress pants rolled up should have looked goofy, instead he looked relaxed and wonderful. And sexy.

  Leah longed to move her own calf so that it brushed against his. She didn’t, but it didn’t matter. The heat radiating off him nearly burned her anyway.

  She wordlessly held out the champagne bottle to him, expecting him to pour the liquid into the two glasses he’d brought, but instead he set the flutes to the side and wrapped long fingers around the neck of the bottle. He held her eyes as he tilte
d the bottle to his lips.

  She watched the motion greedily, feeling somehow thrilled by the fact that they were drinking from the same bottle. It was the casual intimacy that she missed most between them.

  Well . . . that and the mind-blowing sex.

  For long moments they said nothing. They watched the waves. They passed the champagne bottle back and forth. The first time their fingers brushed, Leah’s breath caught. The second time their fingers brushed, he lingered, the pads of his fingers rubbing along the length of hers in what could have been a careless touch. But the way her nipples tightened, the way she grew damp between her thighs . . . she knew there was nothing careless about it.

  It was a caress—one she wanted.

  They didn’t talk about the wedding. They didn’t need to, really. As photographers, they saw things other people didn’t, and knew that words would never be able to adequately describe the moments captured on their cameras, waiting to be brought to life in their respective studios.

  Leah wasn’t sure how long they sat there in silence. The bottle got lighter and lighter, and her mind started to feel more and more sparkly, but she wasn’t sure if it was from the champagne or from Jason.

  She didn’t overthink it.

  For now, it was enough to sit in comfortable silence with someone who got her. They may have had their fights, their differences, their heartache, but in this moment there was nobody else she’d rather be with.

  It was Jason who finally broke the silence, with a quiet, unexpected statement that had her heart tripping over itself.

  “You tasted like cinnamon,” he said gruffly.

  Her head swung around to look at his profile. “What?”

  He didn’t look at her as he tipped the bottle back, eyes locked on the dark waves in front of them. “The other night when I kissed you. You tasted like cinnamon.”

  Between anyone else, the comment would have been harmless and random, but the way her heart pounded was anything but harmless.

  Leah forced herself to shrug. “Says the guy who thinks cinnamon Tic Tacs are a food group.”

  This time Jason did look at her, his gaze both steady and urgent. “I hadn’t had a Tic Tac since before dinner. That taste was coming from you, Red.”

  Leah couldn’t look away. “So I use cinnamon toothpaste. Big deal.”

  She reached for the champagne bottle, but he pulled it away, just out of reach. “You didn’t before.”

  “People are allowed to switch toothpastes.”

  “But from regular old mint to the far more unusual and controversial cinnamon?”

  Leah pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, feeling the need to protect herself from his questions.

  “Leah.”

  His voice was quiet but insistent, and she turned her head, resting her cheek on her knees as she forced herself to look at him.

  Leah had expected his eyes to be demanding and prying, but instead they were tender.

  Slowly he reached out a hand, brushing his fingers along her cheek before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Why’d you switch, Red?” he asked, but the look in his eyes told her he already knew the answer.

  She pressed her lips together and held his gaze, begging him to understand without making her say the words out loud.

  Because I wanted a little piece of you. If only in something as ridiculous as toothpaste.

  His brown eyes seemed to darken as he searched her face before he nodded once, slowly.

  Jason stood then, picking up the unused champagne flutes and tucking them into the same hand as the champagne bottle he still held.

  Leah’s heart dropped as she realized she was losing him. That he was going to walk away without understanding, without knowing—

  And then his other palm extended in front of her . . . reaching for her.

  She glanced up into his eyes, and he lifted his eyebrows in question, his mouth tilting up at the corner in a gentle smile.

  Before she could think better of it, Leah placed her hand in his, the heat of his palm warm and sure beneath hers.

  He pulled her up, waiting as she bent down to pick up her bag.

  Jason pulled her closer, gently, until their toes bumped, and then her breasts against his chest, and then they were belly to belly, plastered together beneath the moonlit sky as she tilted her face up to his.

  Jason’s kiss was slow and soft, his lips moving across hers in gentle seduction as he slowly wrapped both arms around her.

  The embrace should have been awkward. Between the champagne in his hand and her big, bulky camera bag, they couldn’t get as close as either wanted, but it was enough. The hot, tongue-twisting kiss in the sand was enough.

  And then his tongue swept deeper into her mouth, his arm wrapping around the back of her neck, and it was no longer enough. Not nearly.

  She needed more. She needed all of him.

  Jason pulled back slowly, his eyelids heavy as he looked down at her. “Spend the night with me, Red. Just one night. I won’t ask for more if you don’t want to give it.”

  It was the moment she was dreading and the moment she’d been longing for, all mingled into one glorious second of time.

  In the end there was only one answer.

  She lifted her hand to his face, her fingertips tracing his full bottom lip. “Take me.”

  They reached for each other even before the door of his hotel room had clicked shut.

  Their mouths were hot and hungry as their lips met and clung, their hands ripping at each other’s clothes.

  It had always been like this with him. From the very first time they’d locked eyes, she’d known. Known that there would never be anyone who could make her feel this frantic, so full of need just by looking at her.

  When they were both breathless from the kiss, Leah stepped back slightly, and then turned slowly so that her back was facing him. She gathered her long hair in one hand and glanced over her shoulder, eyebrows lifted in invitation.

  Jason’s hands immediately went for the zipper of her dress as he stepped close and pressed a warm kiss to the side of her neck before sucking her skin between his teeth and slowly drawing the zipper down until he reached the small of her back.

  He pulled back, bending to place his lips at the base of her spine, just above the edge of her panties, before moving his mouth back up, giving her goose bumps as his bottom lip dragged wetly along her hot skin. He paused at her bra clasp, flicking it open with skilled fingers before gently pushing the dress off her shoulders.

  Leah shimmied out of the dress and bra, but when she started to turn toward him, he stopped her.

  Jason’s palm found her stomach as he pulled her toward him, his hard chest firm against her back.

  Teasing fingers stroked along her belly, the edge of his little finger skimming just under the edge of her underwear before pulling back, his thumbs rubbing along the underside of her breasts, testing their heavy weight without giving her what she needed.

  Teasing. He’d always liked to tease.

  In response, Leah arched her back, rubbing the curve of her butt against the hard ridge of his cock, smiling when he swore roughly.

  Two could play at this game.

  She let her head fall back on his shoulder, even as her hands slid up the front of his thighs, her nails digging into the firm muscles, only to skate away before touching the part of him that was hard and ready for her.

  His big palms closed over her breasts, and they both moaned as his hands lifted them, his fingers plucking at the peaks just hard enough so that she cried out with a sharp moan.

  “You feel so good,” he said against her neck, pinching her nipples lightly. “So fucking good.”

  Leah was panting now, needing more. She gripped his wrist, trying to pull it downward, but he resisted with a soft laugh. “Not yet,
baby. Not until you’re begging.”

  He turned her around then, bending his knees, his eyes locking on hers as he gave her nipple a quick flick with his tongue, only to pull back and blow gently.

  Leah gasped, and he grinned evilly as he moved forward again, pressing soft kisses everywhere but on the tip until finally, she gripped his hair and guided him where she wanted him.

  “Yes,” he whispered before she pressed the tip of her breast into his waiting, wet mouth.

  Her breath caught as she glanced down. His eyes had closed, his eyelashes impossibly dark, his cheeks forming little hollows as he sucked her.

  She’d missed this. God how she missed the way they were. It had never been just touch with them. It had been the sights and the sounds and the very essence of the other person.

  Jason repeated the same loving treatment on the other breast as her fingers continued to tangle in his soft, dark hair, whispering words of encouragement as he worshipped her.

  His hands rested on her waist as he lowered all the way to his knees, his fingers hooking on the edge of her thong but nothing more, as he once again met her eyes.

  Leah nodded, but he only lifted his eyebrows. “Say it. Out loud.”

  She groaned. “Jason.”

  He moved his hands slightly, his thumbs stroking the seam of her through the soaked satin of her panties. “You want me to take your pretty panties off, Leah?”

  She nodded.

  He slipped a thumb under the lace edge, just barely. Teasing her. “You want me to touch you right here?”

  “God. Yes. Please.”

  His finger disappeared and she moaned. “Still waiting to hear it.”

  She swallowed and looked down, meeting his eyes. “I want you to take my panties off.”

  “Good girl,” he said, running his index finger over her wet slit. “And then what?”

  Her want made her brave. “Touch me. Lick me.”

  It was all he needed. Rough hands jerked her thong down, but when Leah would have moved to step out of them, he slid a warm hand around to palm her ass, pulling her forward against his waiting mouth.

  Leah cried out as his tongue found her center, licking her with wet, slick strokes, up and down. He slid a finger into her, then a second, his fingers pumping in exactly the right rhythm as his mouth closed around her clit, sucking it gently as he worked it over with his tongue in short, perfect strokes.