Chapter 9
9
MADISON
B y the end of Tanya and Steven’s engagement dinner, I can definitely see what Wyatt was talking about. Apparently, Tanya has a bunch of university friends who have scattered to the four winds and won’t be able to make any of the wedding festivities. She’s almost manic in her determination to “have them feel that they are right here in the room with us” when they watch the video of the engagement party.
Which, between the photographer and semi-professional videographer, has more coverage than some weddings.
“Don’t worry,” Wyatt murmurs, tapping my knee under the table. “According to the program, we should be able to escape as soon as the dancing starts.”
“Is that right after the dessert course?” I lower my voice. “Or is there a round of doves being released or a swan parade first?”
Wyatt grips the top of my thigh as we giggle as silently as possible. Which we’ve been doing through the extended round of toasts and speeches throughout the entire meal.
Then he freezes. “Uh oh.”
I follow Wyatt’s gaze across the room. Tanya and Steven are sitting in the center of a long table right by the entrance. There is a silver tea service in front of them, with all the desserts that are now being set out on a buffet table. I guess it’s a little extra moment to show them in a different romantic setting?
Even from here, though, I can see that Tanya’s bottom lip is quivering as the videographer shows her the back of his camera. I can’t quite hear what they’re saying, beyond “Not the right color!”
I’m already on my feet. “Back in a sec.”
Steven and the videographer both seem relieved when I step in. “Tanya,” I ask quietly, “is there anything I can do to help?”
She sucks in a stuttering breath. “I doubt it. Apparently wearing cream instead of white is supposed to make my skin look warmer. But these…” Her hand waves frantically at the fluorescent lights at the entrance. “They’re making my teeth look green.”
I glance at the videographer. “I told her we can fix the color afterward,” he says calmly.
I’ve been in this position before. There is no reasoning with a bride who thinks something is going wrong. You can’t just provide a solution, you have to offer an improvement. Bonus points if you can make it appear elevated.
I turn, catching the elbow of the nearest woman – one of the aunts, I think. “Could you please grab three candle arrangements from the nearby tables?”
“Of course, dear.”
“Fluorescent light can have a green cast,” I explain quickly, putting two sets of candles on Tanya’s side and one on Steven’s. The tea setup is in the center of the long table, so the ends won’t be seen in the video. “Candlelight, though, is incredibly warm. It will neutralize the green and make your skin glow.” Giving Tanya a wink, I add, “Trust me on this. I saw a photoshoot of a candlelit tea from the Four Seasons in New York.”
I step back, then lean in again, nudging a few of the candles into the frame. Then I turn to the videographer with a significant look. “Doesn’t that make everything much more romantic ?”
He nods carefully, catching what I mean. “Much more. Fixes the color problem, too.”
Tanya breathes a huge sigh of relief, then reaches out to grip my hand. “Thank you so much, Madison. You’re a lifesaver.”
Steven shoots me a glance that speaks volumes, and I return to my seat as they play tea party for the cameras.
“What was all that about?” Wyatt asks.
“Fixed a nonexistent problem while lying about the solution coming from a fancy source.” I brush the side of his arm. “Just stuff we learn in hotel service.”
He glances at his sister and then back to me just as Heather arrives at our table. She reaches out and grabs my hand, whispering frantically. “I don’t know what you did, but she was on the verge of tears, possibly another meltdown, and it was like you flipped a switch. Thank you so much, dear.”
She rushes away again, leaving Wyatt beaming. I feel I just scored a few points with both of them. I like that.
We share a few of the exquisite pastries, then spin around the dance floor for a couple of songs and pose for a handful of photos. Once everyone’s dancing, Wyatt takes my hand.
“I’m ready to go whenever you’re ready.”
“Oh, I’m ready.”
Technically , Wyatt should drop my hand as soon as we are out of view of his family.
Technically , his arm should not be around my waist as we walk to the suite.
And technically , he probably shouldn’t lock the door, kick off his shoes, and walk me straight to the enormous bed.
But here we are.
Wyatt clutches me against him in a kiss that makes me see stars across the back of my eyelids. This man could bruise my mouth with his and it would only make me want more.
I casually kick off my shoes. He slips off his jacket, tossing it over a chair, and I’m already unfastening his tie, loving that it gives me an excuse to lean close to his massive chest.
One thing I really like about Wyatt is the perfect blend of his different sides. The slightly nerdy pharmacist, who’s into chemical interactions. The health nut, who is clearly an amateur bodybuilder. And the nice, normal, regular guy who looks to be completely stable.
After all the man drama I’ve heard from my friends, this last bit in particular feels incredibly refreshing. And once again, like I happened to be in the right place at the right time.
He unzips the back of my dress as I fling his tie away and begin unbuttoning his shirt. “Madison, I need to ask?—”
“I’m on the pill. Helps with headaches.”
He laughs. “That’s not it. Although, good to know.” He grins as I push off his shirt, my breath catching at the sight of his perfectly sculpted shoulders.
“No, I just want to say that we’re ordering from your menu tonight.” His eyebrow lifts. “Everything you want to do, and nothing you don’t. Like, don’t be afraid to say hold the pickles, if?—”
“But maybe I want to hold your ...” My dress hits the floor as we both giggle at this clumsy metaphor.
I undo his belt, then unzip his pants. Looking up into his incredible green eyes, I let my hand wander down. This is what I’ve felt pressing against me in the night. Brushing me slightly during our hugs, and especially during last night’s incredible kiss. It’s different to feel the warmth of his cock branding my palm as I stroke gently along it, though. And it’s exciting that a shiver runs through him just from my touch, making his eyes glow.
He tosses my bra aside, then it’s my turn to shiver when he palms my breasts, thumbs fluttering against the nipples until they are tight points. My thumb slides over the head of his shaft, and I feel a few drops of moisture there.
His hands slide to my hips and I gasp as Wyatt lifts me, placing me on the bed. He steps out of his pants, leaving his boxer briefs on as he slowly pulls my panties down my legs.
He stares at me silently for a moment. “Breathtaking,” he finally murmurs.
Wyatt has found every excuse to touch me all weekend – sometimes because people are looking, sometimes to make a point. Now he’s free to touch me anywhere he wants, and he simply stares.
Then his head shakes. “Sorry. Just realized I’m going to remember this moment for the rest of my life.”
Oh my. This big, beautiful man is actually being… mushy .
I don’t know how I manage to keep dragging air in and out of my lungs as Wyatt climbs onto the bed, pushing my thighs apart. The heat of his palms against my skin drives me wild, then I feel the mist of his breath against my open pussy.
I love how much he wants me. Love the way he makes me feel. I love… If I had any brain power left, I would realize that I am completely falling in love with Wyatt. Even as he traces a line down the center of my folds with his tongue, it’s the warm glow in his eyes that makes me melt completely.
“So wet for me.” His voice is gruff. “And this little button…” His fingertip swirls around my clit, which is swollen with need. “So sweet and pink. Mmm.”
Then he digs in, licking me in a deep, almost frantic way that makes me grip his hair and dig my heels into the comforter. My pulse skyrockets as my lower belly draws inward, tension already building in my system fast and hard.
Every broken moan I let out seems to make him more determined. Having someone so focused on giving me pleasure is strange. I’m always serving others. I’m not used to the reverse.
He digs in even more, reading my sounds, my twitches, until he knows I’m right at the edge, falling over the cliff of this monumental climax. Falling for him.
By the time my back arches, shaking as I scream toward the ceiling, I realize that there’s no stopping these feelings I have for Wyatt.
I love him.