Wrong Wedding Page 13
“That doesn’t make any sense. If you have a husband’s prerogative to tease me, then I have a wife’s prerogative to tease you.” Something about the words sounded significant. Like she was staking a claim on him. And she wasn’t sure she was in the position to do that even though she wanted to. So she added in a different tone, “Anyway, you were teasing me long before we were married.”
“That’s true.” His hand was still lightly running down the length of her loose hair. “Maybe I thought you needed it.”
“Why would I need it?”
“Because you never really had a family to tease you. And for a while Carter was your only real friend. He always treated you like you were delicate. Like you were made of glass. I knew you were stronger than that. So maybe I wanted to do something to provoke you.”
She lifted her head since she was genuinely interested in what he was saying—and also very touched. “Really? What did you want to provoke me to do?”
“Show me who you really are. How strong you really are. You’ve always hid it from the world. And I wanted to see it.”
She checked his face in the mostly dim light of the room, and she could see that he was serious. He was telling her the truth. Her cheeks burned because it felt like he was seeing deep inside her, all the way to her soul. She nuzzled his neck, partly to hide her face from him. “And what do you think now that you see it?”
Her hair had moved with her new position, so now he was rubbing her bare back. “I think it’s the biggest victory of my life.”
She had to check his expression again to make sure he wasn’t teasing. He smiled at her but not with irony. She hid her face again.
He laughed softly as he kept rubbing her back.
It felt like he might say something else. Something that would change things. Something that might terrify her.
But when he spoke again, it was casually. “So what did you do with the rest of the evening?”
Summer was both relieved and disappointed by the loss of the moment before. She managed to answer naturally enough. “I hung out with Carter and your mom. Just watching TV.”
“How did Carter seem?”
“Better. More like himself. It still feels like there’s some distance between us that wasn’t there before, but he’s definitely better than he was. Have you talked to him?”
“Just about business stuff and everyday stuff. Nothing deep.”
“So you still don’t know what happened to make him lose it last weekend?”
“No. And I guess you don’t either.”
“No, I don’t. I wish I did. It’s got to be big to push Carter into something like that. I really feel like we need to know what it is so we can help him if he has to deal with it again.”
“He’ll tell us eventually.”
“Will he? He’s not really much of a sharer. At least he never shared stuff easily with me. Deep, personal stuff, I mean.”
“He never shared much with me either. He’s pretty reserved. But I think he’ll tell us when he’s ready. Even things he tries to hold back will come out eventually.” He sighed and shifted slightly, like he’d remembered something he didn’t want to.
“What are you thinking of?” she asked, idly fondling one of his biceps.
“A big fight we had several years ago. He was trying to hide from himself how mad he was at me, but it came out eventually.”
“What did you do?”
Lincoln grew still. Didn’t answer.
“Is it the thing that he owes you for?”
“Yes.”
“What is it? What did you do?” She felt urgent—like she really wanted to know whatever bad thing Lincoln had done to Carter that made him owe him so much—but she kept her voice casual because it felt like Lincoln would clam up if she pushed too hard.
“It’s a long, ugly story. You don’t really need to know it.”
“But I want to know it. I can’t believe something so big happened to Carter and he never told me about it.”
“I asked him not to.”
“Why did you do that?” She lifted her head to frown down at Lincoln in confusion.
He licked his lips. Glanced away. “Because I didn’t want you to know. I’m not proud of it. And I don’t want you to know.”
“So you’re not going to tell me even now?”
He met her eyes again, and for a moment she thought he would relent. But then he shook his head. “No. I know how much you love Carter, and I don’t want you to hate me for hurting him.” When she started to object, he added quickly, “I didn’t mean to hurt him. I never meant to hurt Carter. But I did just the same. And I really don’t want you to start hating me again.”
“I don’t think I would hate you. That was in the past. You’ve changed. And I don’t think I would hate you now.”
He kissed her cheek. Then her mouth. Then the curve of her neck. “I’m not going to risk it.”
She gave up arguing. Carter had refused to tell her, and now Lincoln was too. Maybe she’d find out eventually, but it was obviously a secret between the two of them, and it didn’t seem respectful to pry.
Things were good right now. She could enjoy being with Lincoln. Things were improving with Carter. And maybe things could get even better later on.
She’d had incredible sex tonight—better than she’d known she was capable of having—and her body was still deliciously sated from all the orgasms Lincoln had given her. She felt close to him emotionally too. He was still holding her against him even as his eyes closed and his body relaxed.
She was ready to sleep. And for right now she was allowed to sleep with her husband.
And something about what he’d said to her earlier rang true. She felt stronger—more herself—now than she’d been before she’d married him.
She wasn’t going to get uptight about the things she didn’t know.
A WEEK AFTER THAT, Summer woke up and didn’t know if she was in her bed or Lincoln’s. Since they’d been spending every night together now, she was getting used to waking up with him, but sometimes they spent the night in her room and sometimes in his.
She raised her head and blinked around, realizing that they were in her room. He’d worked a late shift at the bar last night, and so she’d been asleep when he’d gotten in. She’d woken up when he climbed into her bed.
She’d thought he’d wanted sex, so she’d tried some sleepy kissing. On other nights after his shift, it hadn’t taken her long to wake up. He’d kissed her back but then had settled her at his side and told her to go back to sleep. She had. So they hadn’t had sex at all last night.
There were certain challenges in being in a sexual relationship with a man who worked entirely different hours than her.
Today was Saturday morning, which was why her alarm hadn’t gone off. Pleased with that realization, she relaxed back into the bed, turning her head to see Lincoln sprawled out beside her.
He always got hot at night. She considered that a good thing since she could snuggle up against him at any hour of the night and instantly get warm. But if he got too hot, he would push her away from him in his sleep and then push down the covers.
He must have gotten hot sometime during the night. The covers were down at his thighs, and he’d rolled all the way to the edge of the bed. Basically as far from her as he could get.
She giggled stupidly at the way he was practically clinging to the side of the bed.
She’d had a really good two weeks since they’d returned from Atlantic City. Far better than she would have expected when she’d first realized she was going to marry Lincoln Wilson.
The sex was good. Really good. Lincoln was attentive and creative and evidently an overachiever when it came to the bedroom. One silly part of her wanted to brag to the rest of the world about the fantastic sex she was having with him, but they’d been keeping it a secret.
Carter had mostly gone back to his regular self. He went into the office and didn’t get drunk and hung out with his friends and
went out on the occasional date. But it still felt like he was holding something back from her, and that was the only real worry that diminished her enjoyment of the past twelve days.
She settled back under the covers and managed to doze off lightly, but she wasn’t sound asleep enough to not feel when Lincoln’s body shifted the mattress. Peering out of squinted eyelids, she tried to discreetly observe him. He was lying on his back, idly scratching his chest.
Without warning, he turned his head toward her and said, “Hoping to catch me doing something embarrassing?”
She huffed. “How did you know I was awake?”
“I have a sixth sense.”
“Well, it’s a pretty creepy sixth sense. You always know when I’m in the room too—even if your back is to me. Like when I found you in the library. That day. You know.”
“Of course I know that day.” He reached out and rubbed her cheek with his knuckles. “I made you so mad you slapped me and then threw up.”
“I didn’t just throw up because I was mad at you. I’d also had a really bad headache all day.”
His expression was soft. Slightly thoughtful. Definitely fond. She’d never dreamed Lincoln would look at her in that particular way. “Did you?”
“Yes, I did. No matter what your ego dictates, you aren’t so important that you can make me sick with just a few mean words.”
“It was more than a few mean words. I was terrible to you.”
“You were also telling me the truth. I think... It doesn’t make it right. I mean, you were a huge dick and you should definitely feel bad about it. But I think I needed to hear what you said to me that day. I think it helped me.”
“Really?” His eyes were way too green—too vivid to be real—in the morning light.
“Yes, really. I’d been holding on to a lot of silly daydreams. I outgrew them long ago, but I was still holding on for some reason. I needed to let them go.” She cleared her throat as she realized how vulnerable she was making herself. “They weren’t... they weren’t me anymore.”
“No,” he murmured, his fingers still playing gently with the hair falling over her cheek. “They weren’t. You’re way too good—too beautiful and strong and smart and sexy and incredible—to spend your life waiting for a certain man to notice you, especially when that man is as blind as my brother.”
“I don’t think I was throwing my life away though. I’ve done a lot. I’ve had a good life. I didn’t let any lingering daydreams hold me back. I don’t think I was that stupid.”
“You weren’t stupid at all.” His voice was as hushed as hers was, as if someone might be able to overhear them. “But you couldn’t see anyone but him. For a long time you couldn’t see anyone but him.”
The conversation was getting too intimate, too intense. It was making her head buzz and her breath quicken. With a vague hope of breaking the tension, she teased him. “Is that your way of indicating that you wanted to have sex with me before now and I was never interested?”
He laughed, but his expression didn’t falter. He was cupping her cheek now. Like it was precious. “I’ve wanted to have sex with you for a very long time, but that wasn’t what I meant. I meant you had your heart on reserve. For him. And you deserve better than that.”
She nodded, acknowledging the truth to his words and also the sincerity with which he spoke them. “Thank you.” Then, because nerves were quickly swallowing up her excitement, she added in a different tone, “So how long have you wanted to have sex with me?”
His tone and expression changed too, transforming back into his typical teasing irony. “You don’t want to know the answer to that question.”
“Why not? Would it creep me out? You weren’t lusting for me back in high school, were you?”
“Give me a little credit. I might have noticed your body a few times, but that was pure natural instinct I wasn’t in control of. I wasn’t creeping on you.”
“What did you notice about my body?” She was feeling better now. This kind of interaction was familiar. Fun. Safe. It didn’t threaten to swallow her whole.
“Well.” He rolled over so he was propped above her. He carefully pulled down the covers to expose her wrinkled gown. “I noticed your legs when you wore those shorts.”
“What shorts?”
“You know what shorts.”
She did know, and she couldn’t help but giggle with pleasure.
“And you had a bad habit of wearing tops that showed off these.” He brushed his fingertips over her breasts through the cotton of her gown. “It was highly disturbing to my equilibrium since you were supposed to be just my brother’s pesky little friend.”
“Oh. I didn’t think you noticed me at all, except to make fun of me.”
“I did notice. The truth is I’d always liked you and thought you deserved a lot more attention than you got. You were always hiding in corners. It bothered me.”
“I was not hiding in corners!”
“Yes, you were. In fact, I’m pretty sure I found you in a few corners over the years.”
He was right. Both about her staying away from the center of attention and about his happening upon her when she was lurking on the outskirts. Every time he had, he’d said something to annoy her, and she’d returned to hang out with her friends to get away from him.
“But I never wanted more than that from you. Not until you were back from college. Because then you were suddenly all grown up and even more gorgeous than ever. And still hiding in corners.”
“I was not!” She glared but without much heat. “If you really wanted to have sex with me, then you went about it with entirely the wrong strategy. You could have been nice to me, you know.”
He snorted. “Right. Because you’d be likely to jump into bed with Carter’s brother, just because he was nice to you.”
She thought about that and concluded he was right. “No. I wouldn’t have. I never would have had sex with you if we hadn’t been stuck in this weird situation.”
“That’s what I thought.” He didn’t look surprised or upset or disturbed by her comment. He looked slightly amused and slightly resigned.
“But if I hadn’t been stuck in this weird situation, I would have missed out on something incredibly good. So things worked out pretty damn good as far as I’m concerned.”
He smiled and moved farther over her so he could lean down and kiss her. “I think so too.”
They kissed for a while until she became aware of a pressing issue that needed to be dealt with before they went any further. She pushed him away gently and, at his frown, explained, “I’ve got to run to the bathroom before we do anything. I’m not a fan of sex while needing to pee.”
He laughed and rolled off her. She could feel him watching her as she got off the bed and walked to the bathroom. When she returned, he was still smiling, his eyes soft and fond as they rested on her face.
“What?” she demanded, torn between fluttery sentiment and self-consciousness.
“I don’t know what that question is in reference to.” Despite his dry tone, his expression was still that heart-stopping tender one as he rolled over her again.
“That question is in reference to your staring at me that way.”
“What way?” He brushed little kisses all over her face and down to her neck.
She giggled because it felt so good—inside and out. “You know what way. You’re supposed to be all cool and sarcastic. You’re not supposed to look like that.”
He was looking more like that than ever as he lifted his head to gaze down at her. “You still haven’t explained the nature of the look you’re taking issue with,” he murmured before kissing her again.
She returned the kiss with enthusiasm, but then he broke it with an expression that made it clear he was waiting for an answer. “I don’t want to explain,” she admitted, tucking her head after feeling her cheeks warm.
He turned her head so she was meeting his eyes again. “Why not?”
“Because what i
f I’m wrong? That would be very embarrassing.”
He chuckled and nuzzled her neck. His voice was muffled, but she heard him say, “You’re not wrong.”
The admission filled her chest and spread out into the rest of her body. She hugged him to her tightly, and they stayed like that for a couple of minutes.
When she finally started shifting beneath him, she felt his erection through his pants jutting against her thigh. She parted her legs to make room for his body and loosened her arms so he could prop himself back up above her.
They smiled at each other rather stupidly for a few seconds before he kissed her again, more intentionally this time. It wasn’t long before it deepened into more than kissing. She was rocking up into him shamelessly when he unexpectedly flipped them over so that she was on top of him.
It was skillfully done. She didn’t have a chance to feel awkward or off-balance. She squealed in surprise when he moved them, but before the squeal was finished, she was already sprawled out on top of him.
“Feeling lazy this morning?” she asked, kissing a line down his neck toward his chest because it was laid out beneath her so irresistibly.
“Yep. Thought you could do most of the work.”
“That’s not very gentlemanly.”
“Hey, whoever claimed I was a gentleman? I’m a dick, remember. You said so yourself. Plus I’ve only had a few hours of sleep.”
She was using her lips to tease his nipples in turn. “Poor victimized Lincoln. Forced to have sex at eight thirty on a Saturday morning.”
His hands were running up and down her back and bottom with delicious entitlement. “It’s a burden. My wife is a real taskmaster.”
“Your wife is the one doing all the work here, so what exactly are you complaining about?”
He chuckled and took her face in his hands, holding it for a moment before letting his palms slide down to her neck. “I’m not complaining about a thing. My wife is the best thing to ever happen to me.”
Her heart leaped. Her blood leaped. Everything inside her leaped. Parting her lips slightly, she searched his face. She saw a familiar dry humor there as if he were laughing at himself a little. Did that mean he didn’t mean what he said?