Beautiful Beginning(29)

could run his tongue inside and across my teeth. I felt more than heard his

groan, the sound vibrating along my tongue and down my throat; my mouth, my

hands, my * felt the emptiness acutely. I wanted him everywhere.

I arched into him, pulling his hair so hard he grunted in pain and with one

hand grabbed my wrist, pinning my arm above my head, while reaching between

us with the other.

It took two vicious tugs for him to tear my panties off—after all, why

wear the skimpy, flimsy ones when I didn’t expect him to touch me in

southern regions anyway?—and then he was pulling down his fly, freeing his

cock, and positioning himself against me.

“Please,” I begged, struggling a little for him to release my hand just

so I could put both of my hands on his ass and drive the sex from below.

“Please f*ck you?” he asked, sucking at my jaw, my neck. “Please make

you come?”

“Yes.”

His lips moved over my neck, sucking, tasting. “You don’t deserve it

right now. I just want to . . .” He looked down at me, nostrils flaring.

“I want to—”

“And the couple of the evening has arrived!” I heard a muffled voice say

out of nowhere.

We didn’t even know we’d been stopped at the curb until the door to the

limo flew open and Max stood, smiling down at us before his face fell in

horror and he slammed the door shut again. Outside on the curb, I heard him

proclaim, “Looks like the happy couple just need a moment to finish a

conversation!”

Bennett scrambled off me, shoving himself back into his pants, tucking in

his shirt and glaring at me. I sat up, pushing my skirt back down and

grabbing the shredded tatters of my underwear.

With a pissed-off growl, I threw them at him. “Seriously Bennett? Can’t

you keep the fetish in check for one f*cking night?”

He shook his head, retrieving them from where they’d landed on the seat

before tucking them into the inside pocket of his jacket.

I took a minute to check my hair and makeup in my compact mirror while

Bennett bent over, elbows on his knees, and tugged at his hair. “Fuck!”

he shouted.

“It’s your stupid f*cking rule.”

“It’s a good rule.”

“I thought so, too,” I grumbled. “Now I’m not so sure. You’ve reduced

us both to cavemen.”

Almost in unison, we took several deep, measured breaths. I leaned to the

door, looking back at Bennett with my fingers poised on the handle.

“Ready?” I asked.

He let go of his hair and turned to look at me. He studied my hair, my

face. He let his eyes drop to my breasts, my legs, before moving back to

meet my eyes.

“Almost.” He slid closer, framed my face in his hands before covering my

mouth with his. He pulled my lower lip into his mouth, sucking. Never

closing his eyes, he looked straight at me, gaze turning from hard and cold

to warm, adoring. Releasing my lip, he repeated, “Almost,” and then

kissed down my chin, my neck, and back up to give me one more, lingering

kiss on the mouth.

He was apologizing for being an ass. My apology was letting him do it.



The Bali Hai restaurant was miles away from the Hotel Del on Coronado, but

it was one of Bennett’s favorite places in San Diego. Located on the

northernmost tip of Shelter Island, the restaurant boasted an amazing view

of the entire harbor as well as much of Coronado. The building, which was

reminiscent of the Pacific Rim–Polynesian style tiki décor, was two

levels, with a famous restaurant upstairs and the large, private event room

on the ocean level.

I stepped out of the limo to the now-empty curb (apparently Max had decided

it was better that the guests greet us inside instead) and burst into a

giddy smile. Although I’d seen photos and had heard all about the

restaurant’s well-executed menu and world-famous mai tais, I hadn’t seen

the site yet; Bennett had wanted to organize this dinner for me, much as I

’d organized the honeymoon. We’d rented out the entire first floor, and

already the party spilled out onto the deck outside. A bar was set up

overlooking the water, and another bartender was busy mixing drinks inside.

Waiters carrying appetizers walked among the crowd, and every member of our

wedding party and family was here for this dinner before the big day. As we

stepped deeper into the room, all of our guests turned to cheer.

It was sweet . . . these people were all family and our closest friends,

but at my side, Bennett smiled stiffly, thanking everyone. I couldn’t

exactly blame him for feeling the heavy awkwardness. Who knew how many of

these people had just caught a glimpse of Bennett over me, pinning my arm

to the floor of the limo, about to ram his cock into me?

At least all of the guests tonight were family or wedding party. They were

contractually obligated to pretend like they’d never seen a thing.