Soon, we're lost to it. We move desperately, trying to get closer than skin allows. Griffin flips me over so I'm on top, guiding my hips until I'm straddling him. It’s a position I’ve never tried before. I feel exposed, but his hands guide my rhythm as I roll back and forth, grinding down on him until he hits a nerve I didn't know existed.
I suck in a sharp breath. He smiles, knowing he discovered the treasure.
“That’s it,” he encourages, his hands tightening on my hips.
I ride him harder. We are bucking and moaning, a frenzy of friction and heat. Chaotic thoughts swirl, but they vanish when the orgasm hits—sharp and jagged, like razor blades through my soul. I hold onto his shoulders and shiver out my release.
He flips me onto my back again, pulling out at the last second to pump his release onto my belly.
“Fuck,” he moans, collapsing next to me. “You are so fucking hot.”
It’s a great compliment, I suppose. But part of me was hoping for something more... romantic?You’re amazing. Our connection is thrilling.
But that’s not us. He’s a sexy, dominant man, like a guy in a cologne ad—all power and instinct. And I’m Barbie... with brains.
“And you’re good at fucking,” I say, playing the game.
He kisses my sweaty cheek. “Let’s hit the shower before we fall asleep.”
“A shower sounds nice. Just keep your dick away. I’m still throbbing.” I cannot take that monster again tonight. The sex is good, but my heart is a little beaten up.
“I’ll stay clear. We have a wedding to get to.”
Fuck...yes, we do.
Ours.
We have an uneventful shower, though I catch him eyeing me, appreciating the goods. I do the same with him. I can’t help but wrap my arms around his waist when he turns off the water.
“Are we going to be okay?” I ask, my head resting on his wet chest.
“One day at a time,” he says, kissing the top of my head. “One day at a time.”
13
GRIFFIN
The man who never wanted to be married is standing in front of the cheesiest altar I have ever seen.
I'm almost embarrassed to have Beckett here. The setup is the ultimate in tackiness—Velcro chiffon drapery, plastic flowers, and a smell that is distinctly pine cleaner masking regret. But somehow, this was the only twenty-four-hour wedding facility in New York that didn’t feel desperate.
The only thing that isn't tacky in this place is my bride.
Selena is wearing a simple white satin gown with pearl buttons running from her bodice down to her slightly flared skirt. Cap sleeves complete the retro nineteen-fifties look. I marvel at her effortless beauty. Her hair is pinned in soft curls, and she has applied light, perfect makeup—something she rarely wears. I watched her get dressed this morning, sitting at the vanity in my bathroom. She transformed from a gorgeous country girl to a high-society wife in a matter of minutes.
She's too good for this place. And frankly, she’s too good for me. But she has adopted a bright, brittle attitude regarding the situation. Fueled by nerves, Selena has been almost too perky.
Scarlett, bless her, picked up on Selena’s "fake it until you make it" vibe immediately. She has Beckett making gentle fun of my wedding to keep the mood light. Now, Selena has something real to smile about—Scarlett and Selena are instant friends.
I glance at Scarlett's beautiful pregnant belly and realize she's much farther along than Beckett let on. He never told me they were this close to popping.
“So when were you going to tell me you were about to explode?” I chide Beckett before the wedding planner calls our names.
“You’re always so judgy,” he throws back at me. I glance at Selena, who looks a little worried by our banter. “And I didn’t think you cared, to be honest. To you, one baby is a crime against humanity, and we’re about to have four. Scarlett even tossed around the idea of you being a Godfather, but I struck it down. Children are definitely not your thing.”
It feels like he’s piling on, but I deserve the ribbing.
“We all have our things. Children just aren’t mine. Some of us breed like rabbits...” I scowl playfully at Beckett.
