Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
ALENA
The April night is cool, but I’m glowing, admiring how my green sundress matches the breathtaking ring on my finger.
Loch said it’s a demantoid garnet, a rare green Russian stone. I never knew they existed, but it’s his family’s heirloom, so I try to keep my fingernails clean now, honored to wear it. I watch it sparkle with my palm caressing his marble pec.
“You won’t stop looking at your ring.” My handsome fiancé gazes down at me, his grin too sexy.
“Or the gorgeous man who put it on my finger.” I’ve never seen Loch look so delicious.
What I plan to do to him tonight in his black suit will be worth the dry-cleaning bill.
He cups my ringed finger against his chest, his other arm wrapping around my waist, spinning me across the dancefloor, a.k.a. the deck around my father’s palatial beach house.
String lights glow. Palms rustle in the breeze. Green Lenten roses brim from low centerpieces on tables with flickering votives. A DJ drops tunes but can’t drown out the lull of crashing waves against the dunes of Folly Beach.
“Careful.” I laugh as we twirl. “Remember, red velvet cupcakes and spicy margaritas didn’t mix.”
Yeah, I tossed my cupcakes earlier. Then brushed my teeth and freshened my face: nothing could keep me from this.
Loch slows our pace, nuzzling his nose to mine. “Sorry. Got a little carried away.”
“It’s our engagement party.” I seek his lips. “We’re allowed to get very carried away.”
I don’t care if my father and guests are watching. Our polite kiss steams into a passionate one, making Loch groan as he lifts from my lips. “Later, Babygirl. We may have your father’s blessing, but I can still take his bullets.”
I turn my chin, scanning the crowd for my dad.
For a month, I didn’t talk to him. After I saw what Dad did to Loch’s noble face when he told him about us, I couldn’t speak through my rage.
It took me weeks to calm down until my dad stood outside my cabin door, begging me to open it.
That day, I told Dad everything. How I’ll always love him, but how it felt to lose Mom. How I lost myself too. How I was bullied and mocked about my size. How Vale saved me. How Loch made me feel beautiful. How I love Loch, and I don’t need Dad’s permission to do it.
I even told Dad about @LuvPounder and @DirtTGirl falling in love online. No details. The gist was enough to give him a sociopathic conniption. But he didn’t punch Loch. He just bared his teeth at him.
Since then, Dad and I have talked.
Does he still worry about me like I’m his little girl? Yes.
But does he speak to me as a grown woman? Finally.
He does the same with Loch. Man-to-man, they have an understanding. Especially now that Loch and I are getting married in July.
“Where’s Vale?” I worry, glancing around. My bestie and maid of honor just said goodbye, but Vale’s tipsy like me. We both tossed our cupcakes earlier.
“Think I just saw her go inside,” Loch assures.
“Yeah, but she shouldn’t drive.”
“Your dad followed her. She’ll be fine.”
I sigh, relieved. Loch’s right. Dad won’t let anything happen to Vale. He may have given Loch and me his blessing, but Dad will never stop being overprotective, even over my best friend. I’ve made peace with it.
I glance back at Loch, loving how he left his jaw scruffy for me tonight. I want my man rugged, not refined. It sparks something between my thighs.
“I’m feeling mighty fine,” I tease, and he laughs.
“You mean you’re feeling the four margaritas you tossed back?”
I clasp my hands around his inked neck. “No, I feel my mighty fine fiancé. Maybe if I tell the DJ to put on a little bump ’n grind, I’ll really feel you.”
He leans down, his lips tickling the shell of my ear. “Is my bride-to-be feeling dirty for me?”
“Yes, Sir.” I sigh, my nipples tightening. I love it when he plays with me.
“Good girl,” he praises. “Now keep waiting for our party.”
We have big plans tomorrow night. A private erotic engagement party at the sex club in Atlanta. That’s all I know.
Since Loch proposed, he’s been planning it. We lie in bed, talking about it. We fuck, fantasizing aloud about it. We’ve been online, teasing our followers with it. We’ll post an edited version for them.
But this week, he hasn’t let me come. Edging me. Dominating me. Denying me. Knots of desire bind so tight in my core, it’s as if Loch holds my threads, controlling my release. It only makes me love him more, need him more, trust he’ll give me everything I want.
Except…
“I wish your brothers were here.” I glance up at him. “And your mom. I get why they’re not; it just sucks.”
“I know.” He winces at the horizon. “They send their love and hate they’re missing this. It’s just… they need to be together. It’s—”
“I understand,” I soothe. “Your brother Alexsi’s new baby is in the NICU, and I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah,” he mutters, “Seattle’s a long flight.”
I appreciate why Loch’s family isn’t here, and why I haven’t met them yet. They live on the West Coast now, and his newborn nephew isn’t well. It breaks my heart for them. I’m not mad; just worried. But he says they’ll be at our wedding.
At least my family came to our party. Dad. Vale. Nadine just left. Thankfully, though, Michael, my godfather, didn’t come. Of course, my dad invited him, but I went to Michael’s law office, begging him not to.
He agreed. He was kind about it, while I cringed because I suck at this.
Keeping a secret.
My only secret.
I don’t know how to play it cool around a first… whatever. I just know it’s awkward as hell because I can’t tell Loch about Michael.
If I do, Loch will have to keep the secret from my dad, and Loch doesn’t have a lying bone in his body.
It doesn’t feel fair to ask him to do it. It’s my burden to bear, not his.
It’s why I don’t ask about Loch’s first, the woman who trained him. So he won’t ask about mine.
I just want to move on and focus on our future. Our marriage. Our love.
With his body pressed to mine, I swear this man can read my heart. Loch signals the DJ for another song, a sexy one, changing our vibe.
“Kick off your heels,” he says sweetly.
“Wait… what?” I stammer.
“Take them off and step on my shoes. Let me really lead you.”
“But, Loch, I—”
“I’m sorry, Babygirl. What?” He smirks because I know better.
I love our roles: Dom/sub. “Yes, Sir.”
I kick off my heeled sandals, wincing as my size ten feet meet the tops of his shiny Oxford shoes, the size of boats.
“But what if I’m too—”
“Too loved?” He grins, unflinching.
Loch’s feet step lightly to the music, like I’m a feather and he’s my air, floating across the dancefloor. He kisses me, vowing, “You’ll never be too much for me, Alena, because I can never get enough of you.”
Doubt gone.
Body sailing.
Heart bursting.
Being manhandled has never felt so swoon-worthy.
“That’s it, Babygirl.” He reads my glistening eyes. “This is why they call it ‘Being swept off your feet.’”
“God.” I laugh. “You’ve been waiting all night to say that, haven’t you?”
“Even shined my shoes for it.” He leans down for a kiss, unrelenting with his romance, but his phone pings.
It’s odd.
Loch usually leaves his ringer on silent.
Setting me down, he yanks it out of his jacket pocket, turning his head as he grumbles, “Yeah?”
Over the music and crashing waves, I can’t hear who it is. I just catch a man’s muffled voice barking, “Burned” before Loch clips, “Copy,” and hangs up.
“Who was that?”
His glare narrows, suddenly scanning the beach while he stammers, “Uh… my uh… brother. Our mom, um… burned herself with some hot coffee.”
“Oh no, is she okay?”
“Yeah.” He looks at me, forcing his focus. “Just another thing with my family. It’s okay.” He grabs my hand. “Let’s get out of here.”
I let him lead me out of our party. “But where are we going?”
He glances back, winking. “Atlanta. Tonight.”