Chapter 25
CONNOR
“That conversation looked serious,” I murmur once Mildred is back at my side.
“His eyes are finally opening,” she replies.
“You told him why you married me?”
Dred side-eyes me. “No.”
“Then wh—” I glance over at Tally and Fee, whose heads are together. “The coach’s daughter has a crush.”
She hums. “Speaking of crushes, and getting over them, Callie seems to be smitten.”
The music has changed to something more upbeat, but Kodiak is wrapped around Lavender like it’s a slow song.
In front of them, Tally, Fee, and Callie have started dancing with Everly and Victor.
Callie looks up at Victor with stars in her eyes.
And every so often, Tally’s gaze moves across the room to where Flip is standing with Tristan and a few of our teammates, talking.
Meems approaches, arm laced with Isabelle’s.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
“Everything is wonderful.” Meems takes one of our hands in each of hers. “You two are beautiful together. I’m so thrilled I could be here to celebrate this day.”
“Us too, Meems.” I fold her into a gentle hug, and Mildred does the same.
She whispers something to Meems that makes her laugh.
“I’m going to walk Meems out to the car,” Isabelle says.
“I can do that,” I reply.
“I can come, too,” Mildred offers.
“No, you join your friends on the dance floor.” I tip my chin toward the Terror women. “You too, Izzy.”
“Feel free to join us when you get back.” Mildred kisses the edge of my jaw, links arms with Izzy, and shimmies over to her friends.
I walk Meems out of the reception, and we take the elevator to the lobby.
“Those twins from the library absolutely adore Dred,” she notes.
“They do,” I agree.
“She loves them, too,” she adds.
“She has a big heart.”
“She’s good for you.” Meems pats my hand.
“I think so, too.”
When I return, my eyes are on the dance floor, but I’m cornered by my father and a few of his business associates and am sucked into a dry conversation I couldn’t care less about.
Eventually I’m able to excuse myself and join Kodiak and some of the guys from my team, who are hanging out by the bar, watching the women dancing.
I give Mildred her space to enjoy the evening, since we’ll be spending the next few days together, just the two of us, for our honeymoon.
The flush in her cheeks and her glassy eyes toward the end of the night tell me she’s enjoyed the champagne.
I can’t blame her. I’ve had a few glasses myself.
It’s been quite the gauntlet since we started down this road a mere handful of weeks ago.
A little after midnight, I whisk my bride off her feet and carry her out of the ballroom while she waves to her friends and everyone throws confetti.
Once the doors close behind us and the cameras stop flashing, we head up to the wedding suite.
Mildred is quiet in the elevator, and I don’t force conversation.
We exit on our floor and walk together until she stands in front of the double doors. “Are we sharing a room?”
“Yes, darling.” I pass her the keycard.
“And a bed?”
“That’s entirely up to you.” I bend and slide my arm under her legs, lifting her off the floor.
She gasps and wraps her arms around my neck, exactly like she does every night when I carry her from the library to her bedroom. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like?” I smile down at her. “Allow me the honor, Mrs. Grace.”
She taps the card against the sensor, and I open the door and carry her inside.
“Oh wow.” The suite is massive—and romantic, meant for people in love. The huge four-poster bed is littered with pink rose petals. Champagne chills in a bucket alongside a plate of chocolate-covered strawberries.
“Meems booked this for us,” I explain as I set her on her feet.
“Of course she did.” She turns to me, eyes full of emotion. “We made her so happy today.”
“We did,” I agree.
Her eyes move over me. “We’re really married.”
I tuck a hand in my pocket. “We are.”
She nods once. “We should do shots.”
My stomach sinks. I don’t know what I expected. “Reality finally setting in?”
“Pretty much.” She crosses over to the wet bar and lines up four shot glasses.
I shrug out of my suit jacket while she pours vodka into each glass, adding a dash of simple syrup and lemon. She passes me a glass and takes one for herself.
“To making the people we love happy and keeping them close.” She clinks her glass against mine and downs the shot.
I do the same.
She passes me the second one, and we shoot again.
“Feel better?” I don’t know what to do or say. She’s stuck with me for the foreseeable future. I’m definitely the winner in this arrangement.
“A little.” She leans against the bar, eyes glassy.
“I have something for you.” I slide my hand into the breast pocket of my tux. I’ve been carrying it with me all day, waiting for the right time to give it to her. I pull the small, wrapped box out and pass it to her.
“You already got me a wedding gift.” She holds up her arm and jingles the bracelet. “Now there’s another?”
“Sort of.”
She rolls her bottom lip between her teeth. “I didn’t get you anything.”
“You are the gift, Mildred.”
She makes a sound and carefully unwraps the box. Inside is a piece of paper folded into the shape of a house. “What is this?”
“Unfold it and find out.”
She sets the box aside and unfolds the piece of paper. She pushes her glasses up her nose, brow furrowing as she reads it, then lifts her eyes to mine. “These are ownership papers.”
“I was able to finalize everything yesterday. The apartment is yours. You can rent it out, if you want. You can keep it as it is. If you need space, you have a place to go that belongs to you.” I rub the back of my neck.
“I want you to feel like you have agency and choices. You’re my wife, and I’m your husband, but I don’t ever want you to feel trapped in this with me. ”
She throws her arms around my neck. “Thank you.”
I gently embrace her. “You don’t have to thank me. I told you I would take care of it. The timing just happened to work out in my favor.”
She cups my face in her palms. “Just say you’re welcome, Connor.”
“You’re welcome.”
She smiles.
“Is there anything else you need from me?” I ask.
She turns her back and bows her head. “I need you to help me out of this dress.”
“Hmm... So you do.” I steady my hands and begin unfastening the many, many buttons one at a time. Her skin is soft and warm, and she smells like strawberries and vanilla. All I want is to kiss a path up to her neck, but we’re not here because we’re in love.
“I’ve been thinking,” she says.
“You make that sound dangerous, darling.”
She glances over her shoulder, smile coy. “It’s our wedding night.”
“Yes, it is.” I continue unfastening buttons, her white lace bra appearing.
“And you’ve mentioned on more than one occasion that we could make an amendment to our contract.”
“I have done that, haven’t I?”
“Very cheekily, I might add.”
“I do have a tendency to be cheeky, don’t I?”
“Mmm... Exceedingly cheeky,” she agrees.
“Last button,” I say.
She turns, holding the bodice of her dress in place. “What if we made a verbal amendment to our contract?”
“What kind of verbal amendment?”
She releases the bodice, and her dress slides down. She tugs it over her hips and lets it fall to the floor. Stepping out of the puddle of satin, she moves closer, dressed in nothing but her bra and panties. She’s perfectly curvy and soft in all the right places.
“You look hungry, husband.” She reaches behind her, eyes on mine as she unclasps her bra and lets it fall to the floor.
“And you look like everything I want, but don’t deserve.”
“What about what I deserve?” She hooks her thumbs into her lace and satin panties.
My mouth goes dry and my body heats as she pushes them over her hips and steps out of them, bringing her close enough to touch.
“You deserve better than me.”
“What if I don’t want better? What if I like what I have?” Her eyes are slightly unfocused, but hot with desire.
“I’d say you’re drunk, little menace.”
“Maybe a bit.” She runs her hands up my chest. “But it’s our wedding night, Connor. We spent hours on display for all those people, now I’m on display for only you. What will you do with me?”
I clench my hands at my sides. I don’t want her to regret her decision tomorrow. “I should put you to bed.”
“I think you should touch me.” At the tug of her fingers, my bow tie unfurls.
“But first I want you out of this shirt.” She drapes the black fabric across the back of her neck and starts unbuttoning it.
I watch her, waiting for her to change her mind, to realize this is a mistake she doesn’t want to make with me.
But she pushes my shirt over my shoulders and sighs, nails running over my abs and up my chest. She traces the letters there, drinking in the art covering my skin. “God, you’re beautiful.”
“Only on the outside.”
“Untrue.” Her eyes lift. “You can convince everyone else that you’re the bad guy, Connor, but I see you.”
She’s too gorgeous, too much to resist. And I don’t want to anymore.
I want this. I want her. Not the lie we’re telling everyone else—I want this woman who protects the things she loves the most, who’s offering me a piece of her that I have no right to, but still want to claim. I lift her onto the wet bar.
Mildred’s eyes light up with triumph. She grabs the champagne from the bucket—it’s already been opened—and sips directly from the bottle. “What are you going to do with me, now that I’m yours, Connor?”
I slip my fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck and tip her head back. “What would you like me to do, Mrs. Grace?” I brush my lips over hers.
She exhales on a needy whimper, parts her legs wide, and pulls me closer. “Make me come, Mr. Grace.”
I trail my fingers down her side. “Demanding little menace.” I angle her head, slanting my mouth over hers. She parts her lips on a low moan, letting me in as she guides my hand between her thighs.
My fingers glide over soft, wet skin, pink and pretty and all mine.
She sighs, and her entire body softens as I ease one finger inside her hot cunt.
She breaks the kiss and her gaze drops, eyes on my fingers as I slide out and add a second one, curling forward to massage the spot inside as I circle her clit with my thumb.
A small tattoo decorates her hip, a single ladybug sitting on a strawberry blossom, pretty and delicate.
I wonder if I’ll find more secrets on her body when I have time to explore her.
My mind nearly melts at the possibility.
Everything about her opens, the walls crumbling as she gives me a part of her I desperately want.
“Such a good husband.” Her hand slides down her soft stomach, index finger swirling around her clit along with my thumb. She eases lower, skimming the fingers buried inside her, and on the next pump, she pushes inside with them.
“All you have to do is ask for more, if that’s what you want.
” I withdraw my fingers, sucking her juices off them on a low groan.
She drags my mouth to hers, licking inside as I push three fingers into her, stretching, filling.
Mildred moans into my mouth, and I swallow it down with the taste of her.
She clutches my shoulder as she spreads her legs wider, still wearing my bow tie and her glasses. The champagne bottle nearly tips over when she sets it clumsily on the bar top. She grips my wrist while she fucks my hand, rolling her hips in time with the pump and curl of my fingers.
I memorize the moment, capture it and tuck it away so it’s mine forever. And then she’s coming apart. Clenching on my fingers, shuddering, whimpering my name.
Her hands frame my face as she sucks in my bottom lip, teeth dragging over the skin. “You should take me to bed and fuck me.”
I pull back. “You will be entirely sober when you invite me into your body again.”
Her bottom lip juts out. “Such a villain.”
“The worst kind.” I pick her up, and she wraps her legs around my waist as I carry her across the room. “It’s time for bed.”
Her lips are on my neck. “Shouldn’t I take care of you?”
“I’m the villain,” I remind her. “I think you should make me wait.”