Her cell phone camera flashes, and she squints her eyes as she appraises the image. “Perfect.”
“Let me see,” I say, teetering on my heels to stand next to her. It is a good photo. I look like a totally different person. Everything polished and preened to a city shine. Shirley presses a few buttons and proclaims it’s been sent. To both my mama and to Tahoe.
My cell phone, the new one that has a touch screen front and more features than I know what to do with, rings on the nightstand. Tahoe’s text reads,
You look beautiful. I can’t wait until you’re my wife.
He ends it with a smirking smiley face.
I fire back.
So you can take the dress off?
His reply is swift.
No, I’ll be taking it off tonight regardless of your marital status.
My stomach flutters with excitement. As hard as it’s been to stave off the sexual act that has caused so much strife in our lives, the anticipation is something that should seriously be written down in history books. We have done every non-penetrating act of foreplay you can possibly do in every position that is humanly possible. He’s frustrated. I cannot wait. There is a tension that crackles in the air when we’re together. Those around us feel it, and despite our best efforts, a lot of the time, the elephant in the room is the topic of conversation.
Another text pings.
I can’t stop staring at the photo.
I blush.
“Oh my gosh, would you guys get it over with already?What does it matter if you do it tonight or next weekend? It’s obvious to anyone in a seven-hundred-mile radius how mad in love you are with each other,” Shirley exclaims as I smile at my phone.
I’ve explained the reasons a dozen times, but no one seems to understand. Sometimes, when having sex feels like the natural next step when we’re messing around and we’re both so fucking mad with lust, I think it doesn’t matter, but our definition is written in ink, and we both are holding strong to that belief. We’re together in this. In the decision. “I don’t expect you to understand,” I say.
“Why? Because I’m a whore?” she jokes.
Sighing, I say, “No, because I’ve already tried to explain it to you still continue to ask me. It’s important to us.”
She shakes her head, tells everyone we’re ready and we set off, a tribe of champagne-drunk girls as we ride down the elevator. I refused all of the typical bachelorette party fanfare, the mere thought of a penis hat causing me actual stomach cramps. Malena rolled her eyes, Britt got offended, and Shirley changed the subject to dinner. Something we all agreed would be the best experience of our lives.
When the elevator doors ping open in the lobby, he’s there. Standing against a column, wearing a white button-up shirt, gray fitted slacks, and dress shoes. Pinching my lips together, I try not to scream like a fangirl seeing her favorite celebrity. He looks delicious in every way. His hair is done, and he’s wearingthat smile, withthat dimple, and if I wasn’t wearing heels, I would sprint athim like a cheetah. One hand is in his pocket like he doesn’t give a shit and the other hangs by his side so he can be ready at the drop of a hat.
When I finally reach him, he grabs at me. “Come here, you.” His growl is a rough timbre that rolls over me, ending between my legs. “It’s almost a crime other men get to see you look like this when I want you all for myself.”
I turn my head to whisper, “I am all yours. And you’re all mine. You look like a movie star.”
“An action star, I hope?” he replies, leaning his head onto mine. “One with a big cock and the stamina of Rambo?”
I giggle. A noise that surprises even me. I feel his dick harden against my stomach even further. “Of course, Rambo. The hottest, most alpha movie star in the history of Hollywood. One more week,” I remind him. He kisses my head and steps out of my embrace.
“These two. Ugh,” Britt whines. “You can’t do that all night long, you know?”
Malena clacks up to our group, and Leif eyes her like she’s dinner. And dessert. “I asked if you guys would be into a Killing Kittens Party, and everyone said no,” she says, raising her brows like we’re petulant children. “They could have shagged all night there. I bet her virginity would make for the main attraction.”
“Killing Kittens was on the table,” Aidan barks. “How come no one told me?”
“Killing Kittens was never on the table,” Tahoe growls. “This isn’t about that. This is about having agood night out with our friends in a beautiful city.”
Aidan sighs. “It would have been fun.”
“I know, right?” Malena says, folding her arms across her chest. “No one wants to listen to me. I know how to have a good time.”
Leif looks completely pissed that Malena and Aidan are discussing a sex party. His eyes narrow at his friend, and Aidan gets the message quickly, excusing himself to grab a quick drink from the lobby bar.
