Wrong Wedding Read online

  He grinned down at her before he licked his fingers clean.

  She frowned. “What are you smirking at?”

  “It’s not a smirk. It’s a smile.”

  “It’s a very smug smile, and I’m not sure I like it.”

  His eyes warmed even more as he lowered himself on top of her, his legs on either side of one of hers. “Yes, you do.”

  He was right. She did like it. She was having trouble holding back her own smile—not to mention a lot of giddy giggles. But she sniffed and said, “No, I don’t. There’s no call for you to look as smug as all that, just because you managed to get me off.”

  “I did more than get you off, and there’s definitely cause for a little smugness.” He kissed her almost gently, caressing her lips with his. “I didn’t know you’d come so easily for me.”

  “Not that easy!” She didn’t know why she was arguing. His teasing wasn’t sharp or sarcastic. It was fond. Tender. It made her heart burst into flutters. “I don’t come that easily!”

  “You come very easy for me.” He was still kissing her—light little brushes on her face and neck. “You were wet and ready for me after just a little bit of kissing. And your body responded to every way I touched you. You came three times for me just now, and we’ve barely gotten started.” He moved his head lower and gave one of her nipples a big lick that made her cry out sharply. “Look at you. You’re so responsive to me.”

  She was starting to shift restlessly beneath him again as a new coil of pleasure started to tighten between her legs. For some reason his husky voice was doing it for her as much as his touches. But there was a point to make here, and she wasn’t going to give it up so easily. “Maybe I’m responsive to everyone.”

  “You don’t think I’m going to believe that, do you? You’re always so quiet and reserved. You’re always completely in control of yourself. You’re not like this with everyone. Something about me makes you let it go.” He took her nipple between his teeth and gave it a little tug that made her arch her spine and give a little sob. “You’re so good, baby. So beautiful. Look at how you let go for me. You’re ready to come again, aren’t you?”

  She was. Despite her earlier release, her blood was coursing again. “Don’t be cocky about it. I’m just really good at sex.”

  “I believe it. But I think you’re particularly good with me.” He tugged on her other nipple, causing her to make a loud sound and grab for the headboard to hold on. “Are you going to deny it?”

  “Yes, I’m going to deny it.” She was silly to be so stubborn. She knew it would be a challenge to him. But she couldn’t help it. He might be smart and funny and sexy and softer than anyone she knew, but he was also unbelievably arrogant. And she didn’t want him to have his way in this.

  He was laughing as he kissed her lips. Then he mouthed his way down to her neck and sucked on the spot where her pulse was throbbing. He fit one hand between her legs until his thumb had found her clit. He rubbed it very lightly as he sucked.

  She came again. Her body shook through it as she tried to muffle the sounds by biting her lower lip.

  Thinking he’d proved his point, she let her body relax in the aftermath, but he kept rubbing and sucking until she came again, so hard she banged the headboard against the wall.

  It was ridiculous.

  Something was wrong with her. She’d always enjoyed sex, but she’d never come so easily or so much. She hadn’t even known she could have so many orgasms in such a short space of time.

  Maybe he was right. Her body was made just for him.

  He was still shaking with soft amusement as he straightened up again. But his voice was almost awed as he said against her lips, “Oh baby, you’re amazing. I’ve never known anyone like you.”

  She was trying to think of something to say in response when she felt him moving above her, and his erection brushed against her thigh through his thin pajama pants.

  “You’re kind of amazing yourself,” she admitted, reaching for the waistband of his pants and starting to tug them down. “So maybe we can both be amazing together.”

  “I thought we just were amazing together.”

  “Well, yeah, but do you want to fuck me or not?”

  “I definitely do.” He got up and shucked his pants. Then walked to the sink and returned with a condom packet. He showed it to her. “Yes?”

  “Yes,” she said, relieved that he’d thought of it because she was so overwhelmed that she might not have.

  He opened it quickly and rolled it on before he moved back onto the bed. He got on his knees between her legs and pulled her down toward him, raising her hips so she was aligned with him.

  “What if I don’t like this position?” she asked. She had no problems with the position even though it meant her less-than-perfect body was completely exposed to his view.

  He quirked one corner of his mouth up, and his eyes raked up and down her body from her messy hair to her groin. “I think you will.”

  She tried to roll her eyes but got distracted when he started to enter her. He didn’t rush it. He sank into her with a series of slow thrusts and withdrawals, so the penetration was completely comfortable.

  She squirmed when he was buried inside her completely. It was good. Tight. Incredibly hot. And she already needed more.

  “How is it?” Lincoln asked breathlessly. He’d jerked his head to the side like he was trying to control himself.

  “Good. Really good. I’m ready anytime you are.”

  He turned his head back, smiling as he looked her up and down again. “You’re pink all the way to your stomach.”

  She managed to frown. “What’s your point? My skin just does that.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. It has nothing to do with any particular talent of yours.”

  “Okay.” He was still smiling as he took his first thrust.

  It felt so good she gasped and arched up, splaying her arms out to either side and fumbling for purchase on the bedding.

  “No talent?” He was holding her ass in position, and it was a lot sexier than it should have been.

  “No. You just moved your dick a little bit. That doesn’t take talent.”

  He made several more thrusts in a row—harder and faster than before.

  She sobbed in pleasure as her body shook and jiggled and tightened in growing pleasure.

  Then he paused and met her eyes. “No talent?”

  “No.” She had to swallow over the word because she was desperate for more. “No... talent.”

  He started thrusting again, and this time he really went at it. He didn’t stop, and he didn’t slow. He took her exactly as she needed until she was tossing her head back and forth and babbling out pleas for him to make her come.

  “You’re gonna come,” he muttered, thick and raspy. He was sweating and flushed just like she was, and his body was so tense it was almost shaking. But his motion never wavered, and his hands were strong and unrelenting as he held her in position. “You’re gonna come so hard for me, baby. Don’t hold back. Don’t hold anything back from me. I want all of it.”

  She was choking on her sobs now, clutching at anything she could grab as her body was wracked by growing pleasure.

  “You’re so hot, baby. So beautiful. Look at you letting go for me. Don’t fight it. Just let it come. You’re going to feel so good.”

  She was feeling good. And agonized at the same time. She was way too loud for a hotel as the sensations finally peaked. Then she was coming hard.

  He was still talking her through it. “There you go. So good. Don’t hold anything back.”

  The pleasure lasted a long time, and she was limp at the end of it. Lincoln gently lowered her bottom back onto the bed, letting himself slip out from her as he repositioned them.

  She was still trying to catch her breath as he checked the condom and then settled between her legs again, sinking inside her in a different position. She was really tight. Sensitized. But she loved how he felt ins
ide her, and her body easily adjusted again.

  He kissed her softly and then nuzzled her neck. “You okay?”

  “I’m better than okay. I was lying before. You’re definitely uniquely talented.”

  He laughed and kissed her again. “I do okay, but it’s not really me. It’s just us. We’re in sync somehow.”

  “Yeah.” She smiled up at him. “I think we are. Aren’t you ready to come yourself?”

  “Honestly, I’m about to lose it at any moment.”

  “Then come. Come now.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, enjoying the weight of his body in this position. “I want you to.”

  “Okay.”

  He started to rock over her, and she bent her legs up so she’d have some leverage to meet his thrusts with her hips. They moved together rhythmically for a while until she could see him start to lose control.

  She squeezed her inner muscles around him and intensified her motion.

  He groaned and closed his eyes as his tempo accelerated.

  Soon they were moving fast and hard and urgent, and she could feel the tension building in his body until it finally broke.

  He’d been making soft grunts as he thrust, but now he made a choking sound and froze for a few seconds before he rode out his climax with a long, soft groan.

  She could see the release washing over his face. She could feel his body softening afterward.

  And she loved it.

  She loved all of it.

  It was the best sex she’d ever had.

  After a minute of recovering himself, Lincoln went to throw the condom away, wash up, and go to the bathroom. When he returned, she only had a few seconds to leer at his naked body—long limbs, broad shoulders, attractive muscle development in his arms, abs, and thighs—before he pulled back on his pajama pants.

  He lay down next to her, his eyes running up and down her body and a little smile on his lips.

  Suddenly self-conscious, she pulled the top sheet over herself.

  “Why did you do that?” he asked, sounding faintly disapproving.

  “Because I don’t like to lie around naked when I’m not actively having sex. Especially with you peering at me that way.”

  “I wouldn’t peer at you if I didn’t love how you look.” He reached over to stroke her still warm cheek. “Naked or not.”

  That was kind of sweet. She felt a little melty but tried to fight it. Melty feelings toward Lincoln Wilson couldn’t be wise.

  “You can sleep in here tonight if you want,” he added. “Or go back to your own room if you’d rather. Whatever you’d prefer.”

  “At the moment, I can’t even move, much less make those kinds of decisions.”

  He chuckled. “You want me to turn out the lights?”

  “Might as well.”

  He turned off the bedside lamp and then the lights over the bathroom vanity. It was dark in the room as he returned, settling beside her and pulling the covers halfway up his chest. He rolled onto his side to face her. “You feel okay about everything?”

  She glanced at him in surprise. “Yeah. I feel fine. I mean, pretty good after all that great sex. And kind of tired. And a little guilty that I forgot about Carter for a while. Still worried about him. But fine.”

  He touched her hand under the sheet. “You don’t have to feel guilty about Carter.”

  “Don’t you?”

  “Yeah. I do. But that doesn’t mean you should. You didn’t do anything wrong. He’s made his own choices. We can make our own choices too.”

  “I know that’s true. But I still feel... I don’t want him to find out about this.”

  Lincoln was quiet for a little longer than normal conversation called for. Then he said, “Yeah. If this was just a onetime thing, no reason why he needs to know.”

  She didn’t like the sound of that.

  She didn’t want this to be a onetime thing.

  But the idea of Carter finding out that she’d fucked his older brother was enough to make her stomach churn, so surely it made more sense for this to be a random one-night stand.

  It had been good. Incredible, really. But that didn’t mean it was intended to last.

  That conclusion gave her enough energy to get up, grab her pajama set from the floor, and carry it with her to the bathroom. There, she peed and cleaned up and got dressed. When she was done, she meant to head back to her own room and her own bed.

  But it felt like Lincoln was watching her in the dark as she emerged from the bathroom, and something unspoken in his mood led her back to his bed instead.

  “Too exhausted to make it back to my bed,” she said lightly, trying to dispel any significance from her decision.

  “Well, we had a long day and quite a workout. No one can blame you for that.” It sounded like he was smiling beside her.

  Then he reached over and pulled her against his side. She snuggled up, really liking how it felt there with his arm wrapped around her.

  She fell asleep in just a couple of minutes.

  SHE WOKE UP THE NEXT morning, knowing she’d slept too late even before her eyes landed on the bedside clock that read 10:25.

  She sat up and blinked around. She was still in Lincoln’s room. It looked the same as it had the night before. But Lincoln wasn’t there.

  “Lincoln?” she called out, in case he was in the bathroom or in her room that was connected by an open doorway.

  He didn’t answer. He wasn’t there.

  He’d gone somewhere. For some reason the idea made her stomach sink. She tried to talk herself out of it. She’d slept really late. He’d probably just run downstairs for breakfast or to work out. Yes, they’d had sex last night, but a one-night stand certainly didn’t require him to hang around bored until she managed to wake up.

  There was no reason to feel lonely and disappointed.

  She shifted on the bed, recognizing how sore she was after the sex they’d had last night. Then she flopped back down onto the pillow and stared at the ceiling, trying to figure out how she felt and what it all meant.

  She’d come to no answers when the door opened and Lincoln came into the room, dressed in jeans and a gray T-shirt and carrying a paper bag and two cups of coffee.

  She sat back up, pulling up on the straps of her tank top that had flopped down past her shoulder.

  “Hey,” Lincoln said. “You’re awake.”

  “I’m awake. I didn’t mean to sleep so long.”

  “I just woke up an hour ago. Got some coffee and a breakfast sandwich if you want it.”

  “Thank you!” She reached for the coffee and tasted it, pleased to discover it already had the right amount of cream in it.

  Lincoln came over and sat on the edge of the bed near where she was sitting. He scanned her face as he sipped his own coffee, and something about the look felt significant.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “I talked to Carter.”

  “You did? When?”

  “Just now. I took a chance and pounded on his door, and he was there.”

  “How is he?”

  “He’s a wreck, as you’d expect. But he’s sober now, and at least he’s willing to talk.”

  “What did he say?”

  “Not much. He’s mad that I brought you here.”

  “I brought you here.”

  “Yeah, I didn’t try to explain that to him. I’d rather him be angry with me than angry with you. He’s used to that. But I think he’ll be open to talking to you if you want to do that.”

  She jumped out of bed, wincing just slightly at the way the muscles in her stomach stretched. “Yes. Definitely. I’ll run and get dressed and go see him right away before he changes his mind and leaves the room.”

  “I don’t think he’ll be leaving anytime soon. He’s seriously a wreck. You can probably take your time.”

  She was already hurrying to her room with her coffee. “I don’t want to take my time. I want to go now. I’m just going to throw my clothes on.”

&nbs
p; She had second thoughts after she’d closed the connecting door, so she pushed it back open, ran back to where Lincoln still sat on the bed, and reached into the bag for one of the wrapped sandwiches, taking it with her as she returned to her room.

  TEN MINUTES LATER, she and Lincoln were riding the elevator up a couple of floors to Carter’s room.

  She was anxious. Jittery. When the doors opened, she reached out to take Lincoln’s hand as they walked down the hall. She didn’t even think about it. She just needed reassurance, and she knew she could get it from him.

  He didn’t act like the gesture was strange. He held her hand until they reached Carter’s room. Then she let his slip from her grip as she knocked on the door.

  “Go away, Lincoln,” Carter’s muffled voice called out. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

  “It’s not Lincoln.”

  There was silence from the room. But after a minute the door swung open.

  Lincoln had been right. Carter was wrecked. He wore a pair of old sweats and nothing else. He still hadn’t shaved, so he had at least four days’ worth of beard. His eyes were bleary, and his skin was too pale.

  The only time she’d ever seen him looking so bad before was when he’d had a killer case of the flu.

  He stared at her with reddened brown eyes.

  “Can I come in and talk?” she asked at last.

  She wasn’t sure how he was going to answer for a few seconds, but then he finally nodded. He stepped out of the doorway to let her in.

  She glanced back at Lincoln. “I’m going to talk to him for a few minutes.”

  “Okay.” Lincoln’s expression was uncharacteristically quiet, like he’d somehow sucked all of his vibrant personality deep inside. His eyes moved between her face and Carter’s. “I’ll wait out here. Let me know if you need anything.”

  She was about to tell him that he didn’t need to wait for her, but she changed her mind. They didn’t need any distractions from Carter right now. Besides, the knowledge of Lincoln outside the room if she needed him made her feel better.