NICE GIRL TO LOVE (THE COMPLETE THREE-BOOK COLLECTION)(119)

“Hey Connor? Can you help me with this latch?”

“Sure—” Holy. Shit. With the now rapidly diminishing blood supply to his brain, he managed to rasp out quickly, “I thought you needed to change your dress.” She hadn’t mentioned anything about lingerie.

Sexy as hell lingerie.

Drive him insane lingerie.

“No, not my dress, just my underwear.” She smiled. “So can you help me with this latch down here?”

Evil, evil, evil.

Christ, he loved her.

He made quick work of the little latch that really didn’t seem like she needed all that much help with.

Not that he was complaining.

“Thank you,” she said as she slid her arms around him and pulled him down for a kiss.

He groaned low and loud, dragged himself to the other side of the couch to stop himself from jumping her right then and there. “You can’t kiss me like that, Abby. Not right now. I’m on a hair trigger here.”

“But we have a whole twenty minutes to spare now that you’ve taken care of my wardrobe needs so quickly,” she argued back in a bedroom soft voice as she traced her hands slowly down her midriff. Lower. And then lower.

Oh, good lord. “Sweetheart, you said you wanted to wait til our wedding night.” He closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. Maybe if he held it long enough, the rest of him would even out his color so he could be their ‘something blue.’

“No,” she said simply as she took advance of his sight loss and toppled him back down onto the couch. “I just said our wedding.” She straddled his legs and smiled. “Well, it’s our wedding. And I think I’m in the mood for a little wild and fast.”

“At this rate, you’ll have to be the ‘wild’ then because sweetheart, I’m definitely going to be the ‘fast.’”

His eyes flew open in surprise, and then slammed shut again at the feel of her hand curving around him, torturing him through his tuxedo slacks. “Christ. Abby, honey you can’t...” A shudder racked him and he grabbed her hand. His chest rose and fell unevenly. “I can’t take much more of that.”

“What can’t you take? Just my hands?”

He swallowed thickly and watched, practically catatonic as her fingers traced the edges of her bra, before drifting down her stomach to the edges of her panties.

“Or are you saying I can’t put my mouth on you either, Connor?” Her lower lip jutted out in the most devastatingly seductive pout. “Because that’s what I’ve been fantasizing about for the past few weeks.”

There went her clasp of her bra.

His sanity seemed to disappear with it.

She stretched back up to her full height then, hypnotically slow, arching against—but not quite touching—his torso with her own. So. Damn. Sexy.

He sank back against the couch, resolve obliterated. “Dress back on, honey. Can’t take much more.” Proper grammar was now officially beyond his scope.

His eyes squeezed shut to keep the fantasies from coming alive right in arm’s reach. The sound of fabric sliding down silky smooth skin made him even harder. Hotter. “Abby,” he warned roughly.

More silky rustling.

And a warm bra landed on his lap.

A pair of miniscule panties followed soon after.

Connor’s hands immediately shot to her hips when she settled atop his lap. He tried not to choke on his own tongue as he forced himself to open his eyes...and not look down.

Keeping his tormented gaze above the utterly naked temptations pressed against him, he searched her face.

And saw pure, undiluted desire.

His body tightened as if he’d been whipped.

Her lips went to the clenched cord of his neck. “This,” she whispered hoarsely. “Being completely naked while you’re fully clothed...” She shuddered, her husky voice trembling as she brushed her bare thighs further up along his clothing-covered ones.

“We’d better take these off, Connor. I’m afraid I’m a little...wet.”

All the air was knocked right out of his lungs. But still, he somehow managed to force out the noble words one more time: “Are you sure, honey? I want tonight to be special for you.”

She shut him up with a whole body caress that lanced over every nerve in his body. “Connor, tonight is going to be special no matter what. That has nothing to do with this. With us. I want you. In me.” Her stormy eyes trapped his. “Now.”

Somehow, his legs found the strength to stand. With Abby strapped to him, naked and scoring his neck with her teeth, Connor hotfooted it across the seemingly football field length suite to the king size bed. By the time he reached it, nearly all of his clothes had disappeared.

Ditto on his control.

Of course, most of the credit had to go to the not-so-nice-anymore bride in his arms, who’d been impressively creative at ridding him of both.

When he flung her onto the bed, all that was left on him was his boxer briefs. And the way she was eyeing it, he knew it wouldn’t be on him for long. “Last chance,” he managed hoarsely. He was so turned on, if she changed her mind, there was a very real chance he’d bawl like a baby. “Sweetheart, I have to be sure you won’t regret this.”

A small foil packet seemed to magically materialize in her hands. “I’m sure,” she said softly before tearing the packet open with her teeth.