Seducing the Bridesmaid (Wedding Dare, #3)(37)

He wouldn’t give her the excuse. Moving slowly, he hooked her around the waist and pulled her into his lap. She went tense for a breath and then relaxed into him. Brock propped his chin on the top of her head. “Want to know something, peaches?”

She laughed. “Like why a Tennessee boy is calling me peaches? Shouldn’t that be reserved for Georgians?”

“I reckon you fit the description.” He shifted her so that she was straddling him. It created a little distance between them, but he couldn’t fault it when it gave him the opportunity to look his fill. He didn’t think he’d ever get enough of just looking at her.

She licked her lips. “How’s that?”

A thousand corny answers flew threw his mind, but he didn’t give voice to a single one. “You ever hear the saying ‘sweet as a Georgia peach’?”

“That’s not a thing.”

“Sure it is.” He dropped a kiss on her lips, and then each corner of her mouth. “And you, Regan, are f*cking sweet.”

She sighed as he kissed her again, taking his time in tasting her. He delved into her mouth, sliding his tongue along hers before he withdrew and nipped her bottom lip. “Want to know something else?”

Her laugh was a little breathy. “Why not?”

“I finally have you in my bed.” He untied the front of her dress, letting the fabric slide over his fingers as he pulled the knot free. “I fully plan on taking advantage of it.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Most definitely.” He parted the fabric and slipped his hands inside, against her skin. He forgot, sometimes, that she was so small. The force of her personality seemed to fill up a room, and yet his hands felt huge against her hips. He nudged the straps off her shoulders and down her arms, loving the goose bumps that rose in the wake of his touch.

When she leaned in, he stopped her. “Ah ah, not yet. You’ve had your way with me twice now. Turnabout is fair play.”

She huffed, but the blush that stole along her chest gave her away. She liked this. He finished taking off the dress and dropped it on the side of the bed. The bra she wore seemed designed to offer her breasts up to him, the pink lace cups shading her nipples more than covering them. The black panties didn’t match, but he liked the contrast.

Not that she was going to be wearing either long.

The shoes, though, would stay. He’d already decided that after the first night. Brock unhooked her bra and tossed it aside. Then he just looked at her, watching her nipples pebble and her breath hitch.

“If you could see the way you’re looking at me right now…”

He brushed his thumb against her nipple and along the underside of her breast. “How’s that?”

“I don’t have the words.”

That spoke volumes. Regan always had words. He cupped her breasts, enjoying the feeling of them filling his hands, and then followed the line of her sides down to her panties. Part of him wanted to draw this out and just enjoy touching her, but he felt like he’d been waiting forever to get her into his bed. “Lose these. Leave the heels.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” She climbed off him and stood at the edge of the bed to slide them down her legs.

He pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it on the growing pile of clothes. Her gaze fastened onto his chest, and he could almost feel the stroke down to the fly of his jeans. Jesus. Brock stood and pulled them off, leaving him standing as naked as she was.

“It’s really not fair how amazing your body is.” She reached out a shaking hand to touch first his arm, then his chest, then down his stomach. “Not even a little bit.”

“Come here.”

Her eyes drifted closed as he wrapped his arms around her back and kissed her, trying to put the whirlwind of emotions he felt into the way his tongue stroked along hers, his hands digging into her hips, the moan he couldn’t hold back when she reached between them to touch him.

But she wasn’t getting away with guiding things—not after the last few times.

With a grin, he tumbled her back onto the bed, earning a laugh. Even sprawled out, with her hair everywhere, she was a study in perfection. Regan pushed her hair out of her face. “Tease.”

She had no idea. He slid down her body, taking his time exploring her, the curve of her hips, her toned ass, and those legs. Christ, her legs were enough to bring a man to his knees. He stroked her from hip to ankle once, twice, three times, until she was shaking from the near innocent touch.

“These f*cking shoes. You know, I used to be a boob man, but I think you’ve ruined me.”

“Told you so.”

He took an ankle in each hand and spread her legs slowly, until she was completely exposed to him. She didn’t fight, didn’t argue, didn’t do anything but arch her back a little to give him a better view. “You’re going to keep these on.” He knew he’d said it before, but Brock couldn’t get over the image of her naked except for these goddamn pink heels. It was one that would be permanently imprinted on his mind.

“Mm-hmmm.”

He moved back up to settle between her thighs. She was already so wet for him, he nearly groaned as he explored her with his fingers, paying close attention to what made her catch her breath and moan. Finally, the temptation was too much. He leaned down and dragged his tongue over her. Her entire body went taut, but there was no finesse or teasing now. He wanted to feel her come against his mouth and he wanted it now.