Chapter 43
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
LOLA
It turns out New Falls has some pretty decent shops.
And I’m dragging Hunter Sterling by the hand through the main street like a woman on a mission, because I am.
This was my condition. Today is still our wedding.
Which may be slightly rushed, chaotic, and probably certifiable.
But we’re at least going to get pictures worth framing.
Something to look back on in fifty years and say that was the day everything started.
I will be wearing a white dress. Hunter will be looking good enough to eat in a black suit and his sexy cowboy hat. And later, he’s going to fuck me the way it should be done on a wedding night.
This is our version. And it can still be perfect.
The bell above the door chimes as we step into an actual wedding boutique.
I gasp. The room is full of white tulle and satin and lace hanging from every rail, veils draped over mannequin heads, crystal headpieces catching the light.
Most of these dresses are way too much for today.
Floor-length, beaded, the kind that takes six months to order and three bridesmaids to zip.
Perhaps our next wedding. Today I want something shorter. Low-key. But still sexy. Still enough to make Hunter’s jaw hit the floor.
An older lady smiles from behind the counter. “How can I help you?” she asks.
Hunter tips his hat, and I nudge him in the ribs. “We’re actually getting married this afternoon, and we’re looking for a dress and a suit.”
She looks between us. Then her eyes drop to my stomach. I frown, resting my hands over it instinctively.
Hunter chuckles. “No, Ruth. She’s not. I’m marrying her because I’m downright desperate to.”
Her eyes go wide.
I turn to him. “Do you know everyone in town?” I ask.
“I do.”
Ruth rushes around the counter, hands clasped together. “Well, congratulations!” she gushes.
Hunter walks ahead of me, scoping out the store with the casual authority of a man assessing square footage on a property he’s about to buy. Then he turns back to Ruth. “Any chance you’d let me and my girl have the store to ourselves for an hour?”
She glances at the clock on the wall and back at him. “One hour.”
He smiles. “An hour will be fine. Lock the door on your way out, please.”
Her eyes go wide, and he chuckles. “I’ll leave a generous tip on the counter, Ruth.”
She nods, and then she’s rummaging for her keys, grabbing her purse, and she’s out the door. Doing exactly as he said. Because everyone in this town does exactly as Hunter Sterling says.
He blows out a breath and takes off his hat, setting it on the counter. Then he disappears into the back. I follow out of pure curiosity and watch him reach up and flick off the security camera.
“Hunter Sterling… what are you planning?”
He bites his lip as he turns to face me. “Some peace and quiet while you find your perfect wedding dress,” he tells me, rubbing his hand over his stubble.
“Oh, yeah?” I hold his gaze. “Just peace and quiet.”
I reach up and slide one strap of my dress off my shoulder. Bite my lip.
He nods and takes a step forward.
I take one back.
This time, I slide the other strap down and push the dress to the floor. It piles at my feet in a puddle of fabric, and I’m standing in front of him in nothing but my lace panties and the diamond ring on my left hand.
Hunter sucks in a breath and bites down on his own hand. “Now, this.” His voice drops to something barely human. “This is what I was really thinking.”
“Oh yeah?” I bat my lashes and take another step backward. Toward the shop floor. Toward the windows.
He nods and stalks toward me. “You keep walkin’ out there, baby, everyone walking past is going to see you through those big fuckin’ windows.”
I nod. Daring myself to take another step back until I’m standing on the shop floor, surrounded by white dresses, the afternoon sun pouring through the glass.
“Am I in trouble, cowboy?” I ask, dipping my fingers beneath the waistband of my panties.
But I don’t take them off. I wait for his instructions.
He steps into the room. Glances at the windows. Back at me. “You want people to watch? Is that it?”
My heart is hammering. My body is about to catch fire. “Maybe the excitement of getting caught turns me on,” I tell him.
His tongue runs across his bottom lip. “You wanna give the people of New Falls something to watch, huh?” He tilts his head, his eyes raking down my body like he’s deciding where to start.
He closes the distance between us. His hand wraps around my throat. “I think they need to watch me punish my soon-to-be wife, don’t you? For standing here in broad daylight, showing the world what belongs to me.”
The possessiveness in his voice almost makes my brain short-circuit. This should not be hot. It wouldn’t be from any other man on earth. But from my man? I’m melting.
My mouth falls open. “Punish?”
He nods once. “You’ll enjoy it. I bet you’re wet just thinking about my hand cracking down on your ass.
I bet you’re turned on knowing I’ll kiss every inch of it better.
” He pauses. Points at the velvet chair in the corner.
“And then I’m going to sit my ass in that chair, and I’m going to jerk off watching you try on dresses for me.
And once you’ve found the one you want, I’m going to bend you over and eat your pussy on my damn knees.
And if you’re a good girl, your ass too.
And then I’m going to fuck you so deep in your dress of choice that your screams rattle off these walls.
And everyone who walks past will see that you are all mine, Lola. ”
I suck in a breath and squeeze my eyes shut, trying not to come on the spot. “And what if I say no?” I breathe.
He chuckles. “I dare you to.”
He reaches behind me and grabs something off a display—a glittery ribbon sash, the kind that wraps around the waist of a bridal gown. His fingers graze my wrists. “Or do you want me to tie you up and spank you?” he asks, his eyes searching mine.
I bite my lip. “Punish me then, cowboy,” I tell him, and hold up my hands.
A growl erupts from him. He spins me around so my back is flush against his chest. I can feel every inch of him, hard and hot and barely restrained.
“Bend over and hands on that pole,” he gruffs out.
He pushes my hair over my shoulder and grabs the back of my neck. I do as he says, my palms connecting with the cool metal rail between the hanging dresses. White satin brushes against my bare arms.
He ties my wrists to the rail with the glittery fabric. Takes his time. Makes sure it’s firm but doesn’t cut in, especially on my bad wrist. And then he steps behind me and nudges my legs wider.
“Good girl,” he rasps, running both hands over my ass.
“You ready, baby?”
I nod, closing my eyes, and he tuts. His hand fists into my hair at the scalp and tugs my head up. “Words, firefly. Use them.”
“Yes, sir. I’m ready,” I pant.
His hand cracks down on my left cheek hard enough that a scream rips out of me and echoes off the boutique walls.
“That’a girl,” he praises, and the words alone make me drip.
He goes again. And again. Each one followed by praise that melts into my skin. By the fifth, I’m out of breath. My legs are barely holding me upright. My ass is stinging and hot, and every nerve ending in my body is vibrating.
“P-please, Hunter,” I beg.
“Please, what? Stop?”
I shake my head. “God no. More.”
He slides his hands down my ass and between my thighs, pushing my panties aside. He hisses through his teeth when he feels how soaked I am.
“Fuck, city girl. Fuck.”
Before I can respond, he tugs my hair back and pushes his fingers into my mouth. “Suck them clean for me,” he commands.
And I do. Every last drop. He presses himself against me, and I feel his erection against my ass. I’m failing to see how any part of this is punishment. I’m enjoying every second. And he knows it.
One more smack and I shriek—pain and pleasure tangling together until I can’t tell them apart. My back arches, my wrists pulling against the restraints, white dresses swaying around me.
“Hunter!” I cry out, almost out of breath.
He leans over and whispers in my ear. “This part wasn’t the punishment, firefly. And you know that, don’t you?”
I nod. A shaky breath leaves me.
He unties me. Helps me stand upright. His arm snakes around my waist and pulls me flush against him. His lips hover over mine, and when I reach up to kiss him, he pulls back just enough to make me whimper.
That smile. That devastating, in-control, I-own-you smile. “Time to go pick out the dress to marry me in, firefly.” He winks and steps back.
“Asshole,” I mutter.
He runs a hand through his hair. “Call me that again, and I’ll phone Ruth and ask her to stay for longer than an hour. And make you wait until the very last second to come.”
I watch him drag the velvet chair from the corner to the middle of the room. He drops into it, unbuckles his belt, pushes down his boxers, and takes himself in his hand.
Now the punishment starts. Watching him jerk off, while I’m soaking wet and aching for him, trying to concentrate on picking a white dress to marry my insane cowboy in.
I pull the first dress off the rail that speaks to me. Something short. Silky. It almost has a vintage feel to it. It would look amazing in Vegas.
I step into it and turn to face him.
His hand moves slower. His eyes burn into mine. A flicker of something I can’t name flashes across his face.
Almost like adoration. Pride. I’m not sure, but it makes my heart skip a beat.
“Look in the mirror, firefly,” he tells me, pointing at the wall to my right.
I’m going to die in this boutique.
But what a way to go.
I love this man.
And in a few hours, he’ll be my husband.