Chapter Eight
Ty
Ivy moans as I undo my zipper, roll a condom on my dick, and skate my fingers up her long legs to lift up the hem of her red satin gown high enough that the extreme slit opens above her hips.
Hot prewedding sex with a bridesmaid is a long-standing fantasy I’m fucking thrilled to be checking off today, and the fact that we’re doing it in a quiet hallway, just off the beaten path in Remy and Charlotte’s wedding venue, the Carlyle Hotel, makes it that much hotter.
It’s risky, it’s public, and by God, my big brother Remy’s fucking head would explode if he knew. Basically, it’s the perfect combination.
I reach down with two hooked fingers and pull Ivy’s thong to the side, line up my dick, and sink inside. A feral whine leaves her throat as she lolls her head back against the wall, and I grab on to her thigh to hike it up on my hip.
“Oh yeah, baby. You like that?” I ask confidently, thrusting my hips in and out hard enough that her head bumps gently against the wall with each stroke.
“Yes, Ty. God, yes ,” she replies, licking her lips like a seductive little cat.
I put my hands to her ass to get better leverage and tilt her hips toward me, and she mewls at the change in angle.
“I’m gonna make this pussy—”
“Oh my God!” a female voice I recognize way too well yells from the end of the hallway. “Come on, Ty. Jesus ! You have got to be kidding me right now!”
Ivy panics at the disruption, jerking so hard my dick bends at an unforgiving slant, and I yelp.
Goddammit, Winnie. Your timing is absolute shit.
Ivy’s all arms and legs and hysteria as she claws herself off me, shoving me back and her dress down, and taking off toward the end of the hallway at a run.
Winnie, my beautiful, ballsy sister, not to be trifled with, grabs her by the arm and pulls her up short before she can escape.
“Don’t you think the bride is looking for you? This is her day, for God’s sake. Not your sexcapade vacation with my brother!”
Ivy’s shock at being schooled by my little sister is apparent, but all I can do is shrug. Winnie grew up with four older brothers. She’s not the type of chick to take shit from anybody. It’s just not in her blood.
As Ivy stumbles to find the right words, her eyes bounce back and forth like ping-pong balls. When she finally gets her voice back, her explanation comes out in a rush. “I-I-I…I didn’t leave her there. She was, um, running late, and so I figured it wasn’t a big deal if I popped out here for a little while.”
“Running late?” Winnie questions immediately, her eyebrows drawing together in a scowl as I finish tucking my shirt back into my pants over my now nearly soft dick and join their little tête-à-tête. “How is Charlotte running late and you’re not? I thought she was coming with you.”
“She…was…and then, well, she wasn’t.”
Winnie’s face transforms from hypercurious to a touch angry, and I jump in to try to smooth the waters before there’s a catfight between the sister of the groom and one of the bridesmaids in the hall.
“What do you mean?” I ask Ivy.
She glances to me and back to Winnie before explaining. “She left a note this morning. Said she would meet us here after she ran an errand she forgot about.” Ivy shrugs. “I figured she had to pick up a groom’s gift or something.”
Winnie’s face shutters, and I have to admit, it doesn’t exactly sound good , so I prod for more.
“Have you talked to her since?”
“No,” Ivy replies with a shake of her head. “But she-she sent her bag with us. We have all of her stuff—veil, heels, makeup. She packed them in the bag and sent it with us.” She considers us for a moment and then shakes her head again. “I can see the looks on your faces, but, you guys, she’s coming. It’s her freaking wedding day to Remy. Trust me, she’s going to be here. I’m sure of it. She would have said something to Harper and me.”
I want to take Ivy at her word, but I can’t shake this nagging feeling that something isn’t right, and when I glance at Winnie, the look on her face says she’s not at all convinced.
Shiiiiit. We’re just overreacting… right?
This is Charlotte we’re talking about. She’s head over heels in love with Remy. No way she’d let anything stop her from being here today, of all fucking days.
I’ve almost convinced myself it’s all going to be okay, but before I can offer any sort of reassuring words, Winnie dons her bossy face and starts barking orders.
“You,” she says, pointing a finger in Ivy’s face. “Go to the bridal suite now. See if Charlotte is there, and if not, see if you can get in touch with her.”
When Ivy pauses slightly, Winnie adds, “Go! Right now!”
Ivy takes off on her spike heels at a run, and I shake my head as I watch her go. Then I turn back to Winnie with a frown. “Don’t you think you’re being a little hard on her?”
Winnie laughs, but it’s pretty clear she doesn’t think anything is funny. “Look, Ty, as touched as I want to be that you’re a nice enough guy to stand up for even the women you fuck at complete random, we’re kind of in the middle of a situation here.”
Normally, her quick sarcasm would make me laugh, but I’m also not feeling like laughing right now. Especially seeing the way Winnie is reacting to this whole “Where is Charlotte?” thing.
I mean, she’s close with Charlotte. And she’s worried…
“Come on, Win,” I whisper. “You don’t think she’s really…like…standing him up, do you?”
“I don’t want to think anything, Ty. All I want right now is for you to go back to the groom’s suite with our brothers and keep things calm. Don’t. Say. Anything.”
“All right.” I sigh and run a hand through my hair. “Fine, I’ll go back and keep it chill. But what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to the bridal suite, and I’m going to see what’s going on for myself.”
“Win…” I start to say, my voice tight and soft with a nasty, sentimental emotion I do not want to feel.
“Ty, don’t . Go to the groom’s suite right now. And for God’s sake, act normal.”
I nod vigorously, willing myself to calm down enough to do what she says. If I go in there like I am now, one of my brothers will definitely know something is up, and the last thing I want to do is get Remy all worked up for nothing if this is all a big misunderstanding.
I lean forward and give Winnie a kiss on the cheek, she smacks me on the back of the head—likely because of my choice to bang a bridesmaid in the hallway at our brother’s wedding—and then we both take off in opposite directions.
I run down the hallway, around the corner, turn left down the adjoining hallway, and finally, skid to a stop just outside my brother’s prewedding hangout.
Boisterous laughter comes from inside, the kind of shit I’m used to hearing anytime I’m around all my brothers at once, and I refuse to be the guy who walks in there looking like the Grim fucking Reaper and kills it.
It’s then I realize that fucking condom is still on my dick, so I make a pit stop in the bathroom to the right of the groom’s suite and set shit straight.
But when I come out, their laughter is still present and my mood is still bordering on seriously buzzkill vibes.
You can do this, Ty.
I recheck the tuck on my shirt, straighten my tux jacket, and run a hand through my slightly disheveled sex hair. And then I take one giant deep breath in and slowly let it out.
When I finally find the courage to grab the knob and swing open the door to walk inside, my three brothers erupt into a chorus of cheers.
“Hey-o!” Jude yells, leading the charge over to me to wrap an arm around my neck and rub a closed fist in my hair. “Looks like someone’s been out consorting with the opposite sex.”
I smirk a little, pulling out of his clasp and running another hand through my truly fucked-up hair.
“Is it that obvious?” I ask, shoving everything but my encounter with Ivy out of my mind.
Flynn shakes his head while Jude hoots. “You have lipstick on your collar and your neck, dude. And we’ve been waiting for you to come back for the better part of thirty minutes.”
“Not that we think you lasted that long,” Remy teases mercilessly.
I throw up a middle finger in weak defense, and all three of them laugh at me.
“I’ve never had a woman complain about the length of my stamina,” I protest over their chortles.
“Just the length of your dick, then,” Jude fires back.
“Yeah, yeah,” I say over the sound of Remy and Flynn fucking losing it. “You guys can give me shit, and it doesn’t matter because while you were in here bro-ing it up—some of you while wearing a thong—” I glance pointedly at Jude who rolls his eyes “—I was out there getting my dick wet.”
“How long does it take for a micropenis to dry?” Jude claps back again, going for the jugular instead of focusing on my taunt about his wardrobe-related punishment. “I’m kind of like that owl who asks about the Tootsie Pop. I’ve always wondered.”
The room devolves again, and that’s probably why none of us hears the knock on the door before Winnie peeks her head inside.
She smiles—at least, she tries to—but when her eyes meet mine, I know the news isn’t good.
Fuck.
I stand up straight from the arm of the chair I’d found to lean on, and Remy looks back and forth between us with concern. It takes him exactly one fucking second to know something is up.
“What’s going on?” he asks. I’d like to be surprised that he’s picked up on our interaction quickly enough to ask such a question, but just with the way my mood’s tanked alone, the vibe has to be palpable.
Winnie looks to me and pulls her lips into her mouth with her teeth, and Remy stalks across the room toward her. He grabs her by the elbow—albeit gently since this is Remy and his precious baby sister Winnie we’re talking about—tugs her inside, and then closes the door behind her.
“Winnie. Tell me right now. What’s going on?”
“Okay,” Winnie says, smoothing her hands down the front of Remy’s tux lapels. “I don’t want you to worry, but we’re currently having a hard time finding Charlotte.”
“You can’t find Charlotte?” he asks, and she shakes her head.
“No one knows where she is.”
“What? The wedding is supposed to fucking start in less than thirty minutes!” Remy yells, bringing Jude and Flynn to high alert immediately. The three of us close in on his back in case we have to get his shit under control to keep him from hurting himself.
“See,” Winnie says, then raises her hands in the air. “Right there. That’s what I don’t want you to do.”
“Winnie,” he growls.
“Okay, okay. She’s not currently in the venue, but Ivy and Harper both said she left them a note saying she would meet them in the bridal suite. We’ve all tried to call her, though, and none of us has been able to get a hold of her.”
“Someone get me my goddamn phone!” Remy shouts, and Flynn jumps to run over to Remy’s bag in the corner, riffling through it quickly, and then coming back with the requested device.
I’m pretty sure Remy’s already dialing before the fucking thing even hits his hand because he puts it to his ear almost immediately and waits, his face growing stormier and stormier with every unanswered ring on the other end.
When she obviously doesn’t pick up, he slams the phone back down into his hand and dials again, and Winnie steps to the side and pulls me close.
“I’m going back to the bridal suite,” she says on a whisper. “I didn’t think to look before, but I’m going to see if there’s anything in her bag that’ll help.”
I nod, and she takes off for the door in a hurry.
When Remy comes up empty again, a guttural yell leaving his lips as he takes the phone down from his ear and does it all over again, my mind races with a million wild possibilities.
Out of them all, I’m really fucking hoping that Winnie finds Charlotte herself in that goddamn bag of hers.