The Worst Best Man(116)
“The same could be said of you, my wife.”
“Oh look! We can see in Frankie’s room from here! Yoo hoo, Frankie!” May stood up on her chaise lounge and waved.
“Oh my God.” Frankie shoved Aiden out of the line of sight and onto the floor. “I can’t take these people anywhere!”
“I guess we can go be social until tomorrow,” he sighed with disappointment.
But she was already sprawled on top of him. And he was already hard and pulsing between her thighs.
“Maybe we can spare a few minutes,” she suggested, moving to straddle his hips.
He was laying on top of her discarded veil and the skirt of her crumpled wedding dress. Both of which he’d stripped from her last night.
He’d refused to tell her just how much the dress had cost, but she’d caught the estimate in the gossip blogs. Leave it to Aiden to spend that much on a piece of clothing worn for a few hours.
Aiden’s blue eyes hooded with desire. He was a beautiful sight, and he was all hers. He hinged forward, bringing his mouth to her closest breast, his abs rippling with the motion.
As he sucked and teased, Frankie took him inside her in one languorous slide.
“God, you’re so beautiful,” he murmured against her flesh, teasing the nipple with his lips.
“You’re everything I didn’t know I wanted, Aide,” she breathed.
His hips thrust up to meet hers, rocking into her in a slow, steady rhythm.
She moaned, and he clamped a hand over her mouth. “Quiet now, sweetheart. We have an audience outside.”
Frankie tasted the metal of his wedding band, felt the drag of him inside her against her trembling walls.
“It’s never going to be enough,” he whispered. “I’m never going to have enough of this with you, Franchesca.”
His words, sweet and strained, echoed in her head, her heart. She dug her toes into the floor, rolling her hips against him.
He hissed out a breath, and she swore she felt him throb inside her.
“You’d better be with me,” he growled, and with that, he rolled, trapping her between the skirt of her wedding dress and his unyielding body.
He drove into her powerfully, his hand still covering her mouth. But they didn’t need words. Not when their gazes held, not when their souls locked into place and their bodies came apart at the seams. She felt the first hot burst of his release as she clamped down on his cock as her own climax bloomed like a flower.
“Yes, Franchesca. Yes.” He chanted sweet and dirty vows as they came together.
All in. Forever.
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Author’s Note to the Reader
Dear Reader,
Where do I start? As always, I started the book with an idea of where it would go. I thought this was going to be just a light, funny, rom-com set in paradise. And then Frankie and Aiden got deeper, their conflict got more intense, their families got more complicated. Basically, I fell head over freaking heels for these two and their hot mess of a non-relationship.
I was so sure Frankie would get her heart broken and then she ended up doing the breaking. It’s like I have no control over these people! I hope you loved them as much as I did!
I set the wedding in Barbados because it’s one of my favorite places to go with Mr. Lucy. We went specifically so I could soak up the research for this book... also some sun. And all the rum. The white sandy beaches, the turquoise water, the insane minivan public transportation. It’s ah-mazing.
Anyway, if you loved Frankie and Aiden, please feel free to hop over to Amazon and leave a gushing review. If you hated them and you’re still reading this note, I admire your commitment.
Do you want to hang out and be BFFs? Follow me on Facebook and join me in my reader’s group: Lucy Score’s Binge Readers Anonymous. And if you want first dibs on preorders and sales and awesome bonus content, definitely sign up for my newsletter! I hope to see you around!
Xoxo,
Lucy
About the Author
Lucy Score is the author of the Wall Street Journal and #1 Amazon bestseller Pretend You’re Mine. She grew up in a literary family who insisted that the dinner table was for reading and earned a degree in journalism. She writes full-time from the Pennsylvania home she and Mr. Lucy share with their obnoxious cat, Cleo. When not spending hours crafting heartbreaker heroes and kick-ass heroines, Lucy can be found on the couch, in the kitchen, or at the gym. She hopes to someday write from a sailboat, or oceanfront condo, or tropical island with reliable Wi-Fi.