Marry Me: a Wedding Romance Duet

by Samantha Chase

  That knowledge affected her as much as the physical sensations, and her body was buzzing with excitement and emotion when the back of her legs hit the edge of the bed and they both tumbled onto it.

  He didn’t stop kissing her, even as they clumsily started pulling at each other’s clothes. He was more successful than she was, and soon she was naked except for her panties. She got held up on his tie, which she accidentally kept tightening instead of loosening.

  The third time, he coughed as she started to strangle him and broke out of the kiss. “I’ll do it,” he said huskily, his eyes hot and soft. “Since I want to survive long enough to get inside you.”

  She made a face at him, but she was pretty sure it wasn’t effective since she was melting with affectionate feelings. As he pulled his tie off, she started working on the buttons on his shirt, and pretty soon they together got his shirt and T-shirt off so his chest was bared.

  Running her hands up and down it, she smiled. “Much better.”

  “Well, don’t rest on your laurels too much. We still have work to do.” After a pause, he cocked one eyebrow. “I’m still wearing my pants.”

  She broke into giggles and pulled him down into another kiss. The kiss grew deeper and hotter until desire was filling her head again and she was fumbling with his belt and then the top button on his trousers.

  She had better luck with the pants and was soon able to pull them down and then push down his underwear so she could finally get her hands on his erection.

  He huffed into her mouth as she stroked him between their bodies. She adjusted so she could wrap both legs around his thighs, and she rocked beneath him, unable to stay still.

  “Deanna,” he gasped, breaking his mouth out of the kiss and panting against her skin. “Baby, wait.”

  She tried to rub herself against him. “I don’t want to wait.”

  “But…”

  She grabbed his head back down to kiss him again. He moaned into her mouth, not moving against her as rhythmically as usual.

  “Mitchell, please,” she murmured, tightening her legs around him.

  He groaned again and pulled his head away, against the resistance of her hands. His eyes were now torn between desperate desire and amusement. “I’m trapped in my pants.”

  The words managed to process in her lust-clouded brain, and she peered around his chest so she could see what had happened. His trousers had somehow managed to twist up as she’d pushed them down so they were tightened around his knees like a vice.

  She giggled helplessly.

  He gave her an aggrieved look. “You’re the one who did it.”

  “I know.” She couldn’t stop laughing even as she tried to untwist them enough to get them off his legs completely.

  “I’m in a pretty bad condition here, you know.”

  “I know. So am I.” She smiled up at him, suddenly filled with so much love she couldn’t possibly contain it. “You have no idea how much I love you.”

  “I love you too. But if you’re going to leave me trapped like this, maybe you can at least help me turn over so my dick is accessible.”

  She was still giggling as she got his pants and underwear off all the way, and then she slid off her own panties and repositioned herself, spreading her legs to make room for him. “There. Now you’re all set.”

  “Oh, good.” He was smiling too, as if he was filled with the same feelings that she was. And when he kissed her this time it was almost gentle. As he did, he guided himself inside her body, the penetration tight and pleasing.

  They rocked together tenderly for a while, kissing and stroking each other. But eventually the intense need took over and their motion intensified. Soon he was thrusting into her hard and fast, and she was crying out as her orgasm coiled up inside her.

  They were so shamelessly enthusiastic that the bed was shaking wildly as her climax finally broke and she arched up with a cry of completion. He was right behind her, muffling his exclamation with another kiss.

  They collapsed together afterward, clinging to each other. She loved the feel of his hot, satisfied body on top of her almost more than anything else.

  After a few minutes, he lifted his head to gaze down on her. “Well, aside from a few minor issues, that was amazing.”

  “That was amazing—issues and all.”

  He stroked her hair gently away from her damp face. “Happy anniversary.”

  She grinned up at him. “Happy anniversary to you too.” Without thinking, she glanced above the bed, where she’d hung the beaded wall-hanging he’d worked so hard on and given her six months ago. Her chest still constricted at the sight—even after so long—of how determined he was to show her just how hard he would work to have her, to keep her.

  He’d never let her down.

  “Don’t get too sappy,” he murmured, evidently reading her expression.

  She cleared her throat and looked back at him. “Never. You know, I was thinking that we really need to have two anniversaries each year. One for when we got married and another one for when we really came together.”

  He shook his head. “That seems a sneaky way of getting two anniversary gifts a year.”

  “Of course. Why else would I suggest it?”

  Adjusting her body so she was nestled against him more comfortably, he idly caressed her back and bottom. “I can manage that.”

  She rested her left hand on his chest, the engagement ring and wedding rings prominent. “Remember, you were supposed to have a wife who was easy to manage. I’m not sure that worked out very well for you.”

  He leaned up to press a kiss against her hair. “It didn’t work out at all. You’re impossible to manage. But that ended up working out even better for me, so I’m not about to complain.”

  ***

  The second book in the Beaufort Brides series, Substitute Bride, about Rose and James, is now available. An excerpt from Substitute Bride follows.

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  Excerpt from Substitute Bride

  He had turned back to his computer screen, still rubbing his jaw, when he was surprised by a tap on the door.

  “Yeah,” he muttered.

  Rose came in carrying a small blue object.

  “What is that?” he asked.

  “A hot pad,” she explained. “For your jaw.”

  He rolled his eyes, preferring for her not to know how much his jaw was hurting. He didn’t like to be babied, and Rose was so composed and competent all the time that he didn’t like her to think he needed taking care of. “I said I was fine.”

  “Don’t be grumpy,” she said with a smile. She held the hot pad against his jaw. “This will help. The muscles get tight when you clench your teeth at night, and the heat will help relax them. You hold this against your jaw, or I’ll stand here and hold it for you.”

  He grumbled under his breath, although he actually appreciated the fact that she’d thought about him. It would be nice if sometimes his own fiancée would have done the same.

  Rose leaned against the desk and watched him, as if she’d determined she wasn’t going to leave until she ensured he followed her instructions.

  “Thanks, Rosie,” he muttered.

  He knew her name was Rose, but he’d mistakenly started calling her Rosie when she first started working for him, and now he could never remember to call her anything else. The girls called her Rosie too, probably because he did.

  She didn’t seem to mind.

  “No problem. You know, they have mouth guards you can use at night, to keep you from clenching,” she said quietly.

  She was pretty in a curvy, brunette way, and he was so used to her now she was part of the household, part of the family. The girls loved her, and he wasn’t sure how he would have survived the last two years without her.

  Not that he’d ever tell her that. He wasn’t the kind of man who did things like that. But he had a slot in his life for someo
ne to take care of his daughters—take care of the family—and Rosie filled that better than anyone else could.

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “I said I’m fine.”

  “It’s just going to get worse.”

  “It’s just some temporary stress. It will get better soon.” The heat was actually making his jaw feel better, and he breathed deeply in relief. He should have thought of this himself.

  Rose was quiet for a minute. Then she asked. “What are you stressed about?”

  She’d always been careful and professional in her dealings with him. She’d never been intrusive or inappropriate—never going outside of the boundaries of her given position. But they’d known each other for a long time, and it didn’t feel strange or unnatural for her to ask such a question.

  In fact, James was strongly tempted to tell her his whole list of stresses, starting with Jill and her nightmares and ending with his upcoming marriage which seemed to be looming up more every day.

  He bit back the words, though. It wouldn’t be right for him to confide in her. He was her employer, and he couldn’t take advantage of her sweetness and sensitivity.

  He wasn’t paying her to pour out his troubles to. He was paying her to look after his daughters. That was her slot, and he was careful not to let the categories of his life dissolve into each other.

  Ever since his wife died, he’d managed his world by keeping everything in its proper place.

  When he didn’t answer, Rose said, “The girls are doing fine.”

  “How long has Jill been having nightmares?”

  “Just a few times this week.” She opened her mouth, as if she would add something—but then she didn’t.

  Noticing her hesitance, he prompted rather gruffly, “What?”

  “The dream was evidently about an evil stepmother.”

  James thought about that, suddenly realizing what Rose wasn’t saying. “You think she’s worried about Genevieve?”

  “I think so.”

  “What should I do?”

  “I don’t know. But I don’t think the girls know her very well, and that makes them afraid of the whole situation. Maybe they could be given the opportunity to get to know her better? That might help.”

  James nodded, relieved by this common-sense idea. Of course, they’d be nervous about his marrying someone they didn’t really know. He’d tried to get them to spend time together, but it hadn’t really worked out very often. He’d talk to Genevieve. She would understand and then surely she’d make some extra time for them, so the girls wouldn’t be so nervous about her.

  He hated the idea of his sensitive little Jill so upset she was dreaming about it.

  “They’ll be fine,” Rose said, as if she’d read his mind. “They love you, and they want you to be happy. Give them a little time, and they’ll get used to it.”

  “I don’t just want them to get used to it. I want them to love her.” He wasn’t sure why he’d said such a thing, since it revealed far more than he was used to revealing.

  Something strange twisted on Rose’s face, but all she said was, “Give them time.”

  He knew she was right, so he nodded as he repositioned the hot pad on his jaw. Rose was looking out the window in his office, and for some reason his eyes lingered on her face.

  She had beautiful ivory skin with pink cheeks, and for some reason he particularly noticed how delicately clear her complexion was in the morning light. Her lashes were thick and dark, even without any makeup, and his eyes lowered to the curve of her neck, leading down to her shoulders.

  It was strangely lush and graceful—for such an innocuous part of her body. A section of hair had slipped out of her ponytail, and it slid against her skin, accentuating the curve.

  For no good reason—completely to his surprise—he felt an entirely new surge of physical response to Rose. She wasn’t doing anything provocative or sexual. Her body was totally covered with a loose T-shirt. But something about the graceful line of her neck and the swing of her hair provoked the most unexpected response from him.

  He felt heat rush through him, and his groin tighten a little. He was hard pressed not to reach out and touch her hair, her skin.

  When he realized what he was feeling, he stiffened in his chair. What the hell was wrong with him? Those kinds of thoughts were entirely inappropriate—for more reasons than he could count.

  It must have just been one of those random flukes. It was part of being a man—being hit with lust occasionally, even when there was nothing real underlying it.

  He’d never been particularly attracted to Rose before. She was just part of the background of his life. He was engaged to a beautiful woman, and his whole life was mapped out for him accordingly.

  If he let the various aspects of his life bleed into each other, his world would turn back into chaos—the way it had when Melissa had died and he’d barely been able to function at all. He wasn’t going to let that happen again.

  He shook the stray feeling away and lowered the hot pad. “Okay. Thanks for this. I need to get some work done.”

  Rose’s eyes widened, obviously surprised by his gruffness. She took the hot pad, though, and lowered her eyes. “Of course. I need to get the girls to school, anyway.”

  He watched her leave, feeling another flicker of interest at the sway of her full hips beneath the hemline of her T-shirt.

  Shit, he needed to pull himself together. It was probably just another outgrowth of the stress, but he had to get it under control immediately.

  He wasn’t the kind of man who lusted after his nanny, and there was no way in hell he was going to take advantage of Rose.

  She’d been so good to him and the girls over the last couple of years, and he simply couldn’t lose her.

  ***

  You can find out more about Substitute Bride here.

  The Wedding Season

  Samantha Chase

  Prologue

  Fifteen years ago…

  Tricia Patterson nervously approached the closed classroom door. Her heart was beating wildly in her chest and she had to stop and take a few steadying breaths. This wasn’t anything new. The way her family moved around, you’d think she’d be used to this by now.

  New home.

  New school.

  And repeat.

  Unfortunately, it never got any easier. The anxiety, the nerves, the fear of not fitting in. Most of the time it worked out all right. She’d make new friends, but in the back of her mind she knew it wouldn’t be long until she had to pack up and move again.

  But not anymore.

  Thanks to her parents’ divorce, Tricia wouldn’t have to move again. She and her mom had found a place in a small town on the east coast of Long Island and they wouldn’t have to pack up and move unless they wanted to.

  She really hoped they wouldn’t want to any time soon.

  It had taken a couple of days to get unpacked and settled in, and today her mom had finally brought her to the local high school to get registered. Secretly, Tricia had hoped to drag out the process a little bit longer, but no such luck. She was here, registered, had her locker assigned and her schedule freshly printed out.

  There was no turning back.

  Looking down, she stared at the schedule for at least the tenth time in as many minutes. “It’s just homeroom,” she muttered. “Nothing to do except sit and wait until the first bell. You can do this.”

  With a steadying breath, she reached for the door, turned the handle and opened it.

  Twenty-five pairs of eyes were instantly on her and her breakfast threatened to make a reappearance.

  “May I help you?” the teacher asked. She was an older woman – maybe in her sixties – but she had a kind smile.

  “Um…I’m Tricia Patterson,” she said softly as she walked toward the desk. “I just transferred here and…” Reaching into her one binder, she pulled out her paperwork and handed it to the teacher.

  “Welcome, Tricia. I’m Mrs. O’Keefe,” she said, stil
l smiling. “Why don’t you take a seat for now? I’ll rework the seating arrangement for tomorrow, but for now, feel free to sit at one of the empty desks.”

  “Thank you,” Tricia mumbled and turned around. Okay, now there were only twenty-four people staring at her and it was still pretty damn intimidating. Scanning the room, she located an empty desk in the back corner, quickly made her way over and sat down.

  After a minute, everyone seemed to lose interest in her and Tricia breathed a sigh of relief. She pulled out the papers they had given her down in the office and found a map of the school to show how to get from one class to the next. She was studying it when all of a sudden…

  “Hey! I’m Sean Peterson.”

  To her right, there was a boy, Sean, leaning over smiling at her. She glanced at him and wasn’t sure how to respond. Was he being nice? Sincere? Or was he someone she should avoid? Lord knows she’d dealt with that sort of thing in each school. It never failed that there was at least one person who seemed to genuinely want to befriend her only to turn out to be a freak in some way, shape or form.

  “Hi,” she muttered and went back to studying the map.

  “So, you just transferred here? From where?” he asked.

  Mentally she rolled her eyes. Placing the paperwork back down, she turned her head and looked at him. “From Rochester.”

  “Really? Upstate, huh? That’s cool.” He straightened and smiled and Tricia had to admit he seemed really nice. And he was kind of cute. Sandy brown hair, brown eyes and a nice smile. “When did you move?”

  “Over the weekend,” Tricia said but didn’t know what else to add to her short response.

  “Awesome. Where in town? I live over off of Barnford. I don’t know if you know where that is but…”

  “It’s right by where we live, too,” Tricia said, hating how she sounded so excited at the information. “I mean, we actually live on Barnford. The house on the corner of Barnford and Grove.”

  “Seriously?” Sean asked, his smile growing. “You mean the white house with the red shutters?”