by Becca Lee
Shit. I wondered how the bloody hell I would escape from this one without him following me. I looked at my Champagne longingly and took hold of the napkin again to wipe away all signs of his sticky fingers. Hugging my bottle to my chest, I looked around the room, desperately hoping there would be some sort of miraculous escape route that I’d yet to think of.
I spotted Jo’s ancient aunt in the corner and considered hauling ass into the middle of their conversation, but thought better of it. They’d only look at me with pity and start quizzing me about my love life before trying to set me up with someone. I noticed Jo, who was now dancing in Liam’s arms. Love radiated between them. There was no chance I’d be getting in the middle of that. I risked a peek at the dickwad at the bar. His eyes were fixed firmly on me. When I made eye contact, he winked and licked his lips. I had to take action. I was at the point where vomiting was a great possibility.
I looked over my shoulder and spotted Preston looking in my direction, hands planted behind his head and laughing his ass off. “The little shit!” I harrumphed and turned away from him. Jo’s younger brother—maybe not so young, he was twenty-six, but it was hard to see him as anything else other than my best friend’s annoying shit of a brother—of course, had to witness my confrontation with the weasel at the bar. He’d have extra ammunition to wind me up with by witnessing my escape plan.
He’d spent the last twenty-three years irritating the crap out of Jo and me. From the first moment I met Jo at school when I was five, her then three-year-old brother had been the bane of our existence: telling tales, playing jokes, teasing ... the list continued. In the last few years, while he’d grown up somewhat, physically, anyway—I still was yet to be convinced about his mental age—he’d become a firm friend. Obviously, still annoying, as demonstrated by his laughter, but a good friend all the same.
Countless nights, Preston had dragged my arse to bed after too much alcohol, especially once Jo had become so preoccupied with Liam. We’d spent a lot of time together. We still had our separate friends, but we usually caught up once or twice a week.
I hadn’t seen him all night. He’d brought a trashy date with him to the wedding. Nobody I’d ever met before, not that I ever properly met his women. He always seemed to have a new victim on his arm every week. He was hot. I could understand it, but he was also my BFF’s baby brother.
An idea formed in my head as I looked around the room for his date. She was propped up at another table, making out with one of Liam’s friends. I looked back at Preston quickly. Still laughing, he shrugged his shoulders, clearly not giving a shit. I took a deep breath and stood up, still clutching my bottle. The sleaze immediately smiled when I looked in his direction and nodded at me. Oh, shit! I smiled hesitantly before heading over to Preston who was holding his sides in silent laughter.
“Don’t be a shit. Come and dance with me. I need saving.”
He laughed and gasped, “Classic. Now, why in the hell would I do that when it’s such a pleasure to watch you squirm?”
“Preston,” I complained, “please. I can’t shake him. He’s eyeing up my baby.” I stroked my bottle affectionately.
“Heaven forbid.” He smiled. “If we dance, what are you going to do with that?” He indicated my Champagne.
“Shit. I hadn’t thought about that. Maybe—“
Preston’s eye’s widened and filled with amusement as he looked behind me and a voice cut me off. “So, darlin’, you and me, and that bottle of Champagne.”
His hand touched my exposed back. Damn my bridesmaid’s dress leaving too much skin on show. I lurched forward, falling onto Preston.
He groaned as I landed heavily on his lap. “Sheesh, how much cake did you—“
My elbow to his stomach cut him off. I swivelled slightly and looked at the douche in front of me. “So, this is Preston. My boyfriend.” My arm snaked around Preston’s shoulders, daring him to interrupt or laugh.
“Humph, you didn’t saying anything before. I’ve been watching you all night and you haven’t been with him up till now.”
The thought that he’d been watching me freaked me the hell out. I would have to find out who this creeper was. I assumed he was someone Liam knew.
Preston chose that moment to interrupt. “Yes, sorry, buddy. She’s with me. I’ve been catching up with family.” He shifted slightly in his seat and looked up at me. I immediately angled my head at him and smiled in relief. “Sorry, baby. Have I been neglecting you?” I saw the amusement dancing in his eyes. He was having far too much fun.
“It’s okay, sweetie. I don’t mind. You can make it up to me.”
Preston beamed, looking far too proud of himself. His lips quirked up in mischief. “I’ll definitely make it up to you, El.” His hand clasped the back of my head and he pulled my face down to his. My eyes widened in shock, wondering what the hell he was doing.
As his lips touched mine, I gasped. My open mouth gave him the opportunity to lightly run his tongue over my lips, before it flicked out and caressed my tongue. His mouth moulded with mine and I found myself leaning into the warmth and sweetness of his lips. At my added pressure, his hand gripped my head a little tighter and his other hand wrapped around my back and pulled my body closer to his. His lips moved against mine expertly, sending unbidden tingles down my spine and to my core. He groaned into my mouth, which I matched immediately.
At some point, I thought I heard a murmured, “Right, I’ll be off then,” but it didn’t fully register as my hand gripped on to Preston’s taut arms.
An insistent cough brought us out of the moment. We pulled apart slightly, just a few inches, and simply looked at one another. Both of us were panting. Holy shit! I just made out with Preston. Baby Preston. My BFF’s baby brother Preston. The cough continued. We both looked in the direction of Jo, who held an amused smirk and sported a quirked brow.
She lifted her right eyebrow and folded her arms. “So,” she spoke around a smile, “anything either of you want to talk to me about?”
Frozen on Preston’s lap with my lips still tingling, I looked up at a laughing Liam who was standing behind Jo, his arms wrapped around her waist.
Preston’s hands slipped to my waist and held me firmly, thoroughly confusing my muddled brain even more. I had no freakin’ idea what had just happened. All I knew for sure was that I’d just had one hell of a kiss with Preston, whose thumbs were making slow circles on my waist, as his sister, my BFF was looking on. My body tensed and I made to move, wondering what on earth I could say. At my slight shift, Preston’s grip became even firmer, a hold of possession.
It had all been an innocent save-my-ass kiss. But Preston’s firm grip and the memory of our mutual groans and the damn butterflies dancing around my belly in response to his circles and firm grip had me pausing, and touching my lips. “I- I-” Being lost for words twice in one day was a new world record for me. I realised my mouth was still gaping open and snapping closed, so I firmly planted it shut and put my hands on my bottle of Champagne. Somehow, amidst the hot-as-hell kissing, I’d managed to not lose grip of my bubbly goodness.
Preston cleared his throat. “We were actually just going to head out, find a quiet spot and finish El’s bubbly. You know how possessive she can be.” He lifted my hips, urging me to stand. Taking hold of my hand, he tugged slightly, kissed Jo on the cheek, and said, “We’ll see you in a week when you get back from your honeymoon. Have fun, sis.” He briefly shook hands with Liam, who stood on with a smirk on his face, and pulled me toward the marquee's exit.
I looked back at Jo’s face in shock. Hers I was sure mirrored mine. I had no idea what the fuck she was thinking, or what I was thinking or feeling, for that matter. Just before we left the marquee, she gave a wide smile and a thumbs-up sign. Double shit. What the hell does that mean?
My breathing became ragged as Preston walked quickly into the darkness of the hotel’s grounds. I could hear the waves of the sea lapping against the shoreline. Feeling my feet sink into sand, I stumbl
ed. Immediately, Preston’s arms wrapped around mine, preventing me from failing on my arse, or more importantly, from dropping my bottle of bubbly. I had a feeling that I was going to need to drink the whole goddamn bottle to get my head around what was happening.
He looked down at me, his face cast in light and shadow in the moonlight. It was too dark to make out the colour of his eyes, but I knew they were a mesmerising green with flecks of hazel. His high cheekbones had always made me envious in the past. Looking at them under the glow of moon, all I wanted to do was rest my cheek against his and maybe give him a quick lick. I paused in horror at the thought. Lick Preston. Nothing about that idea made sense. He was virtually my little brother, an annoying one at that.
I took a step back and shook my head. “No. Just no, Preston.” His face looked pained as he loosened his grip on my arms. He still wasn’t releasing me, so I took another step backwards. I knew I’d led him on, but all I’d really thought about was escaping. Okay, maybe I quite liked his kisses too, but the familiarity of his touch freaked me the crap out. His arms dropped to his sides.
“Thank you, for before, for helping me out.” I gave a tentative smile, which he didn’t return. His face had become an unreadable mask as I took another step away from him. My heart sped up at the change in him. It was rare that I saw the hard-faced version of Preston standing in front on me. I was used to funny, pain-in-the-ass Preston. Easy-going Preston. The Preston who cuddled me when I needed it and held my hair back when I was throwing up, but before me was the I’m-not-taking-this-shit Preston. Oh fuck!
“No!”
There went my gaping fish-mouth again. “No?” I questioned.
“I said no. You’re not backing away from this. From me.” He took a large stride forward and crashed his lips to mine. He took my breath away in an instant. My bottle of bubbly pressed between us as he held me tightly, his arms wrapped around me. Once again, his tongue slipped into my shocked mouth.
As soon as his tongue touched mine, all reason and rational thought whizzed right out of my head. I was burning up. His kisses sent waves of sensual heat pulsating through my body.
I felt his arm move and my precious bubbly was removed from my hand. His lips dropped to my cheek, and he rained kisses down my neck and across my partially exposed shoulders. I officially love my dress. I’m screwed. He leaned in slightly, and lightly put the bottle on the ground before kissing his way back up my throat and to my tingling, kissed lips. With no more obstacles between us, he pulled my body close to his, his body firm in all of the right places.
We kissed until our breathing gave out. If I hadn’t have gone up for air, I was sure I would have passed out. We slowly pulled away from one another, Preston gently placing his forehead against mine. “I think I need bubbles.” I half smiled. I was in serious need of a shitload of booze. My head was spinning, even though not a single drop of alcohol had passed my thoroughly kissed lips.
Preston smiled, kissed me gently on the lips and pulled me to the sand. Our bodies pressed next to one another as he reached for the bottle and expertly opened it. I couldn’t pull my eyes away from him.
The light evening breeze lifted the few strands of my red hair that had come loose from my carefully-styled hairdo and tickled my face. I left them, too busy taking in the man before me. He was one sexy hunk. This I’d always known, but never really known. When Preston had turned twenty-one and had started working out even more, his surfer muscles had become more defined, bigger. I’d noticed back then, five years ago, but still, it was Jo’s annoying brother. He was not a sexy hunk who Jo and I would rate out of ten every time we came down to the beach to cool off in the summer heat. He had flown under my radar, and I had no idea how this was possible. He was my friend, for Christ’s sake. We met up a couple of times a week for drinks or dinner, or simply to chat, sometimes even alone. But not once had I thought or considered how beautifully kissable his lips were. Never once did I want to lean towards him and kiss a line up his chest.
I was officially freaking the fuck out. I couldn’t do this. There was no such thing as a simple kiss between two friends. I needed to get away and quick, certainly before I had another whiff of his divine masculine scent that I wanted to bottle up and pour onto my pillow. Holy shit, it is definitely time to leave.
I looked at my bottle of bubbly in his hands with longing. I would have to let this one go. His distraction with the bottle was going to be my ticket out. Taking a deep breath, I watched as he carefully removed the foil from the bottle’s cork. As stealth-like as possible, I removed my shoes, grasped them firmly in my right hand, pushed with my left, turned, stood and ran back to the hotel as quick as my 5’6 frame would allow.
His calling out spurred me on. I pushed my legs harder, trying to remember the last time I had run. Holy Christ, high school seemed a hell of a long time ago. Note to self: Get off your lard arse once in a while.
I made it to the foyer and refused to look over my shoulder. Chicks were always caught out in horror movies by looking back. It was bad. I’m comparing running away from a pair of sexy-arse lips to being a goddamn slasher victim. I was officially losing the plot and was being too bloody ridiculous.
I slammed into the wall next to the elevator and repeatedly hit the call button. The ding made me sigh in relief as I quickly stepped into the elevator, swiped my key card that I’d pulled out of my bra—bras came in really handy when you had no pockets to carry your shit—and pressed my level. The door closed as I heard a frustrated Preston call out my name.
Fuck! That was close. I couldn’t even begin to think about how I would have navigated my way out of that potential shit-storm. I’d been tempted, too tempted, and that really scared the crap out of me.
I rushed out of the lift when it hit my floor, half expecting Preston to jump out at me from the staircase. I really need to stop watching so many horror movies. I swiped my key card across my room’s door. I’d never been so relieved to see the welcome green light. Pushing open the door, I stumbled inside and slammed the door behind me.
Taking a deep breath, I pushed myself away from the entryway, flicking the lock before I went. I dumped my shoes on the floor and headed straight into the bathroom. The harsh white light greeted me. Ignoring my reflection, I leaned in and turned on the shower. I foolishly rationalised that a cold shower would be all I needed to cool my flushed skin and clear my head. I shimmied out of my jade dress and allowed it to pool on the ground. Checking the temperature and ensuring it was just the right level of cold, I then stepped into the shower allowing the powerful spray to wash over me and wake me the hell up.
I sighed, standing under the spray. I had just a few hours to consider how I was going to deal with this mess. I would have to talk to him, even though I’d love to completely ignore the kiss—or rather kisses. When I realised my fingers were touching my mouth, I snapped them away quickly. No thinking of sweet kisses. Preston was my friend, a good friend, and far too important to me to allow a drunken—I seriously hoped he was drunk, even though I knew I didn’t have that excuse—kiss ruin our friendship or my friendship with Jo. As much as she was my friend-twin, she was most definitely the evil half of our pairing. I’d seen the damage she could do with her right hook and horseshit; I did not want to be on the receiving end of that if I screwed over her little bro.
On this occasion, I would play the grown-up. I chose to ignore the fact that I’d run away from him, abandoning him on the beach. I would sit down with him and apologise, think of some incredible and believable excuse and then it would all go back to normal. I scoffed at my crappy pep talk. I needed to do better. Apparently, I couldn’t even convince myself.
I wrapped myself in the hotel’s fluffy towel and eyed the mini-fridge, sitting proudly in the room. I risked a peek inside. No Champagne, but there was a whole collection of different yummy spirits that I was sure would help me get over the Preston incident. It may even help me ignore the butterflies distracting me whenever I thought of our kiss and the gr
owing need in my groin.
Sighing at my stupid libido, I grabbed all of the miniature spirits. I also pulled out a can of Coke. A lethal cocktail it would be. I was sure it would do the trick.
Pouring half of the spirits into a tall glass, I topped it up with the Coke. I sat back on the bed and flipped on the FreeView TV while I periodically drank and grimaced. It tasted foul, but damn if it didn’t get the job sorted. Before long, I refilled my glass and felt the welcoming buzz of alcohol racing through my system. I flicked over the channel and placed the remote back on the side table when I found a movie. Love Story was on. Result! Perhaps not the best film to watch, considering the craziness of the evening, but I’d grown up on this movie. My mum had made Jo and I sit in front of it when we were in our mid-teens. Before long, the two of us were ugly-girl crying, which involved hiccoughs, snorts and a bucket-load of tissues.
My mum could be one sadistic woman when she wanted to be.
The thought of my parents only just drifted through my mind. Fuckety-fuck! If they had witnessed Preston and I kissing, they’d be organising our freakin’ wedding and doing fist pumps I’m sure. They loved Preston. Like, seriously loved his firefighting arse. But, knowing my interfering parents the way that I did, I was confident that if they found out about the kiss, it wouldn’t take them long to concoct a plan to get me down the aisle. Geez, let alone Preston and Jo’s crazy-arse parents, too. The four in the mix was a potential nightmare.
At the grand old age of twenty-eight, I would have hoped that I’d mastered the art of wise choices and discretion. Evidently not. Making out with your best friend’s baby brother at her wedding, in the middle of the fucking evening reception, with both sets of parents close by, was so far from discreet that I wanted to run and hide. Hmmm ... I may just do that. I wonder what the chance of scoring a job in Bali is.