Baiting the Maid of Honor (Wedding Dare #2)(31)

She felt him pulse hot inside of her, stretching her, ready to give in. He gripped her chin and lifted her head so it faced the mirror. “Watch me. Watch me finish, baby. You need to see what you did.” When she nodded, his movements grew jerky, yet somehow even more determined. Ever so slightly, he tightened his grip on her jaw until her mouth opened from the pressure. He pushed his fingers inside. “Suck.”

Julie didn’t question, she simply closed her lips around his fingers, drew on them as hard as she could. And watched Reed come apart behind her.





Chapter Twelve


Reed cinched the white towel around his waist and stared blindly at his reflection in the fogged-up bathroom mirror. For the first time since he could remember, he wondered what someone else thought when they looked at him. Ugly, painful-looking scars, one at his hip, another slashing down from his collarbone. An unruly mess of tattoos running together, none of them with any particular meaning except to cover him up. To keep people away.

Why hadn’t it worked with Julie?

Not wanting to look at himself any longer, he turned and leaned back on the marble sink, crossing his arms over his chest. And tried not to blink. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her in the mirror. Hair a gorgeous mess, lips swollen and damp, breasts bouncing up and down from the force of his thrusts.

“Hell.” Reed dragged his hands down his face, feeling himself harden beneath the towel. Thank Christ she’d gone back to her room to shower, or they’d be at it again. Not that it had been easy letting her walk out of the room, looking more than a little shell-shocked by their heated encounter, followed by his sudden silence. His less-than-warm treatment of her after the hottest damn sex of his life. He’d wanted to say something to make her smile, but the words never came.

Truthfully, he still couldn’t come up with words to describe what the hell had taken place between them. Consensual sex between two adults didn’t cover it. He’d demanded promises from her; he’d held nothing of himself back. Two things he’d never done, not with any woman. When he’d tried to chalk it up to the heat of the moment, he immediately discarded the notion. An hour later, the thought of another man looking at her, watching her dance, made him grind his knuckles into the counter. He couldn’t even contemplate it without adrenaline blasting through his veins, demanding more assurances from her.

Where the hell did he get off asking for reassurance? Promises? He had no use for them. Certainly couldn’t make any of his own. He’d break them…wouldn’t he? Broken promises were his legacy. They ran in his family. Julie probably came from a long line of honorable men who kept their word. Men whose word meant something in the first place.

She’d marry a man like that someday.

Long minutes passed before Reed could think clearly again, the idea of Julie marrying another man having wrapped around his throat to choke him. He sucked in a deep breath and left the bathroom to go dress. What were his options? Option one: cut things off with Julie now, try to keep his distance from her the rest of the week, and never see her again? Reed almost laughed. He’d nearly gone to her seconds after she left his room this afternoon. Four more days? Not a hope in hell of his lasting that long. They hadn’t even spoken about the fact that they lived in the same city. If he didn’t get rid of this infatuation now, knowing she was so close would drive him slowly insane.

That left him with option two: stop thinking so damn much, make the most of the time she allowed him, and f*ck her so well, so thoroughly, she would never forget him for the rest of her perfect, privileged life.

Option two it is.

Reed yanked a black T-shirt over his head and strode to the door. He paused with his hand on the knob. Perhaps this decision wasn’t exactly wise. The pull he felt toward Julie wouldn’t lessen the more time he spent with her. It might even strengthen. Reed rested his forehead against the door. He thought of her alone in her room, wondering if she’d done something wrong. Wondering if she’d ever feel him inside her again. It made him crazy. He didn’t know where this urge to soothe, to reassure, came from. It felt primitive. As if it had always been there, sitting unused in some hidden part of him, gaining strength. Now the urge blasted him like volcanic ash. She would be his Julie. At least for the next four days.

The second he referred to Julie as his, the jealous beast within him lay down, relaxed for the first time since she’d left. He didn’t know what that meant, only that if he stayed away from her, the anxious feeling would return. Decision made, he left the room at a brisk pace.

Minutes later, he stood outside her door, impatient to see her. Before he could knock, he heard her muffled voice on the other side, sounding upset. Only her voice, however, suggesting she was alone. On the phone, possibly? Reed glanced down the hallway, knowing he should leave. Let her deal with her problem and return later, pretending he’d never heard the tinge of sadness in her voice.

Instead, he found himself knocking. When she pulled the door open, cell phone pressed to her ear, Reed felt something odd, something foreign move in his chest. Inside a puffy white robe that fairly swallowed her, bare feet poking out at the bottom, she looked so incredibly sweet and defenseless, he could only stare at her. Then he heard the angry voice on the other end of the phone and his body went on alert. He noticed her deflated posture for the first time, the downturned corners of her mouth. Someone was upsetting Julie and that definitely didn’t work for him.