Hours blur together with more dancing and more stolen moments as night falls. I pull her onto the terrace just to kiss her, quick and desperate, and promise more.
Eventually, the bouquet toss happens. Claire tries to dodge but it lands right in her hands anyway. She looks at Esme and then me, shocked.
I grin as she places the bouquet on the table in front of her chair. “Guess that’s settled.”
“What’s settled?” A strand of her auburn hair wisps around her chin, her green eyes bright amid the soft flow of the torches.
“You’re next.”
She grabs it and throws it at my chest. I catch it one-handed, my grin wide. She snatches the bouquet, replacing it on the table before joining the other bridesmaids to grab sparklers from the side table.
It’s finally the send-off, with cheers, sparklers, and well-wishes. Esme hugs Claire tight.
“Be happy.” The bride’s whisper is loud enough that I hear it, though I don’t think she meant for me to.
Claire nods. “I’m trying.”
Then Esme looks at me, one eyebrow cocked. “Don’t screw this up.”
“Yes ma’am.”
So she meant for me to hear.
As they leave, the music’s still playing but the crowd’s thinning. Claire’s barefoot, her heels abandoned somewhere, and when she turns to me her eyes are dark.
“Your room or mine?”
Well, then. “Yours,” I say. “It’s closer.”
We walk hand in hand through the resort like we have all the time in the world. Our footsteps echo off the tile floor as we approach the elevator, and waiting for it to arrive nearly kills me. The doors slide open, we step inside, and the second they close I have her against the wall, my mouth on hers. She tastes like champagne and wedding cake and want.
Her hair’s coming loose, a couple of pins scattering on the elevator floor with tiny pings as her hands slide inside my jacket. I fist the auburn strands that are free and tilt her head back, my mouth devouring hers.
She gasps against me, and I swallow the sound with a wave of kisses. “Hunter—”
“I know.” I rest my forehead on hers, gulping for breath. “I know.”
The elevator finally dings, and we make it down the hall in record time. I fumble the key card—it’s hard to focus when her hand’s on my ass—and finally shove the door open.
It closes, then locks. And we’re alone.
The moonlight shines through balcony doors, and I move to open them. Night air rushes in, the air crisp and clean. The curtains fluttering in the breeze as the waves crashing against rocks below in a steady, tender rhythm.
Claire looks at me, her chest heaving, her lipstick smeared, and her gorgeous auburn hair falling out of its pins. She’s so damn beautiful my heart hurts.
“Hi,” she says.
I cross to her in three steps and back her to the bed while kissing her like I’ve been starving.
She sits when her knees hit the mattress, and I kneel before her, runing my hands up her calves to her thighs.
“This dress.” My voice is rough. “It’s been killing me all day.”
“Good.” Her fingers thread through my hair. “That was the point.”
I find the zipper and drag it slowly down her back, the cowl neck gaping. I press my mouth to the newly bare skin, dragging my beard along her cleavage as I inch her dress down.
She shivers, the goosebumps rising under my mouth. “Hunter.”
