There was a slight pause as we stared into each other’s eyes before I pulled away and tugged my jacket on. “We should go. Thank you for today, Reed. I enjoyed this more than you’ll ever know.”
“It doesn’t need to end here. Come back to my hotel with me,” he whispered, taking me back into his arms.
My stomach bottomed out. “Reed.”
He shook his head and then planted a kiss on the tip of my nose. I kept my hands by my sides. “No, just hear me out. Come back and spend the night with me, one last time. If you still want to walk away in the morning, I won’t come after you. I’ll let you marry that prick. If that’s what you really want.”
I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or upset by his ultimatum. “So, you won’t try to ruin the wedding in any way?”
“No, as I won’t be coming to the wedding. I’ve thought about it, but I can’t do it.” That comment surprised me: as if I would have expected Reed at my wedding.
“Why on earth would you have wanted to come to my wedding?”
He smoothed my hair back from my face. “I got your invitation.”
A wave of shock shook me as I gaped up at him. “What?”
Reed dropped his hands and stepped back, dashing a hand down his face. “I received one of your fancy wedding invitations. It was addressed to me personally in a handwritten envelope. The writing looked like yours.”
Playing with the neckline of my cotton top, I explained. “I didn’t send you an invitation to my wedding, Reed. How could you ever think I’d do something like that?”
Reed placed a hand on his hip, gesturing with the other, “I don’t know. Maybe to force me to come back here and stop you from making the biggest mistake of your life.”
The whole thing was too screwed up to be true. How the hell did Reed get a wedding invitation? It must have been one of the girls, Harper, or Molly? They were the only ones who knew how I felt about Reed.
And then I didn’t have time to think about it anymore as Reed lifted a hand and gripped my chin between his fingers and thumb. “Please, Storm. Stay with me. Let me love you one last time.”
He then lowered his head and fused his mouth with mine. Every good intention deserted me in that moment as instinct took over. I pushed up onto my tiptoes, my hands sliding against his bulging shoulders. My breasts were crushed against his chest as his fingers cradled my jaw and he deepened the kiss. My mouth parted on a sigh.
Reed’s head tilted, and I matched the movement, closing my eyes as his lips moved against mine in a bruising, breathy kiss. I could feel my heart spasming in my chest as his tongue licked inside. He didn’t rush; he took his time to taste me, and the muscles in my legs tightened as I arched against him.
I could feel that kiss with every fibre of my being: along my spine and in my sex: everything was pulsing with need. Gliding my hands through his thick mass of hair, I moaned as his strong, leather-bound thighs brushed against mine.
Reed’s hands were twisted in my hair, and the kiss became greedier. I welcomed that pull as his mouth became more demanding, scorching hot.
I had a flashing image of another time we had shared at that very beach. It had been late one Sunday evening, and Reed had brought me there in his Jeep. We were both dreading school that following morning, as it was exam week.
I was wearing a long, flowing dress. I remember how he had dragged me onto his lap and slid his hands beneath the skirt section. His hungry gaze never left mine as he pulled my thong to one side. The way his fingers had stroked my slit and how my arousal had coated his skin. Even there in the open, where anyone could have caught us.
I had thrown my head back, the climax I’d felt causing me to cry out, the sound echoing down the beach. It hadn’t taken long for Reed to free himself from his sweat pants before he lifted me and impaled me on his hard shaft: taking his cock so deep, I’d seen stars.
That was the first time he told me he loved me.
The beach had been empty, but no one would have been able to see beneath my clothes that we were joined together as one. It was like another one of our secrets. That was also the first time I’d allowed Reed to come inside of me. It had been so exciting, letting Reed take me raw with no barrier. We would have been around eighteen years old, and it had been hot, angry make-up sex after the Tate bombshell.
The waves had picked up and crashed in the background, and in the distance, I could hear kids shouting and playing, but nothing else mattered but that moment. The kiss went on, heating my body against the sudden chill in the air as my jacket parted. It was much rawer than it had been that night at the club, an assault on the senses. The rough beard on Reed’s chin grazed my skin; he was so satisfyingly male, and I stroked my tongue against his. A delicious shiver ran through me as Reed growled and drew his teeth over my bottom lip.
I kept my hands around his neck as he pulled back and placed his forehead against mine. “Please, Storm. I need you.”
My heart hammered against my ribs. The magic of our afternoon together lingered as I remembered how good we used to be together. No matter how hard I had fought it, our hearts remained connected. At one point, I’d convinced myself that Reed would have moved on, built a new life, and excised me from his old one. I was wrong.
As Reed lifted his head, I noticed his expression changed from desire to curiosity. I glanced down at my shoulder. My jacket had fallen off at one side, and my tee had shifted from when I’d been writhing against him. The top of the thin white scar across my collarbone was showing.
Dropping my hands from around his neck, Reed lifted his fingers and pulled the cotton of my top down, revealing more of that injury. It was the one I had gotten when I’d crashed my car on the way to meet him, four years ago.
“You said things change. How did you get this? You didn’t have it before,” Reed questioned, his eyes burning into the skin there. I raised my hand and stopped his fingers from tracing the area.
Thinking on my feet, I said, “I had to have an operation. A tendon issue, due to tennis.”
