Chapter 40
In a delightfully unorthodox turn of events, Izzy demanded everyone change into pajamas before dinner.
In her words, “No one wants to eat tacos in a dress that requires double-sided tape.” Despite the odd request, everyone was grateful to shed their formalwear, especially in such a cozy mountain cabin.
She and Reid surprised everyone with hilarious matching pajamas—flannel bottoms and fuzzy socks in each person’s favorite color, and an inappropriate T-shirt.
Reid’s wearing a shirt that says, POUR SOME SUGAR ON ME, and Izzy’s replies, I’M SUGAR.
Connor and my shirts bear the classic SAVE A HORSE and RIDE A COWBOY.
Mr. Andersen’s shirt reads, THIS WEDDING IS brOUGHT TO YOU BY MY SPERM, and Mrs. Andersen’s says, I GREW THE GROOM.
Harper’s shirt is half a lyric, IT’S A LOVE STORY, with Olivia’s replying BABY JUST SAY YES. Greyson was less than thrilled Harper was dragged into the nonsense, but she was ecstatic to be included.
My favorite pairing is James and Greyson—who adamantly refused to put the shirt on until Reid threatened to unearth an ancient embarrassing story.
Greyson’s says, I BETTER SHAPE UP ‘CAUSE YOU NEED A MAN, as Danny Zuko, and James’s responds, I NEED A MAN, WHO CAN KEEP ME SATISFIED, as Sandra Dee.
We all laughed so hard the clothes changing was delayed a solid five minutes—I nearly peed myself laughing. Connor loved their shirts so much he snapped some pictures to show CJ, and then Greyson tried to break his phone.
The photographer takes a series of adorable couple’s shots. The T-shirt pairings will live in infamy forever. Izzy insists she take a break and join us for dinner, which she gratefully accepts. That woman’s been on her feet all day capturing every moment for the happy couple.
An elaborate taco bar’s exploded in the gourmet kitchen. Mrs. Andersen whips up a batch of virgin margaritas, and I catch James, Greyson, and Olivia slipping tequila into theirs.
I love that no one shames me or my sister for choosing not to drink. Reid stopped drinking for Izzy, and Connor avoids it for me. Even the scent is triggering sometimes, but we trust this group with our lives and don’t mind them imbibing.
Extremely relaxed and happy, I load my plate with warm corn tortillas, grilled shrimp, lime cabbage slaw, garlic-jalapeno crema, and cotija cheese.
I don’t finish my plate because I’m too busy picking off Connor’s plate because his are to-die-for.
He chose carne asada tacos, overflowing with guacamole and chili corn salsa.
I can’t eat another bite, but Mrs. Andersen brings out chocolate covered strawberries in every variety—milk, dark, and white chocolate, salted-caramel chocolate, and more.
I nearly clear them out of the peanut butter and jelly strawberries. It’s like they melted chocolate peanut butter cups and dipped the strawberries in the decadent concoction. I jokingly try to bite Connor’s fingers off when he tries to take one from me.
I love that Izzy and Reid had no one to impress or anything to prove, and chose the food and desserts they love instead of a giant cake they wouldn’t enjoy.
As dessert is wrapping up, Reid crawls beneath the dining table, cracking his head. What in the world? Reid isn’t the horse-around type of guy. Izzy giggles, shoving her hands under the table, squirming from whatever he’s doing down there.
He bumps his head again on the way up, shoots to his feet and victoriously holds a pink garter above his head.
The room fills with hoots and hollers until Reid stretches the garter like a slingshot and points it back and forth between James, Greyson, and Connor.
James dives under the table to avoid being shot and Greyson hides behind his daughter, who’s laughing like a hyena.
As he shoots the garter, I swear he winks at Connor who jumps out of his seat to catch it like a wide receiver before tumbling back into his seat, nearly taking me down with him.
“I’m saving this for later,” he whispers into my ear, goosebumps pepper my arms.
My sister shoots to her feet and shouts, “Let’s dance, bitches!” Music plays from hidden speakers, and we make our way from the dining room.
Reid swinging her around the makeshift dancefloor surprises me—he doesn’t strike me as a dancing kind of guy. But he’d do anything to make his wife happy, and for that, I’ll be eternally grateful to my new brother-in-law.
Greyson has Harper dancing on the tops of his feet, and I nearly melt from how adorable they are. Mr. and Mrs. Andersen slow dance to every song, no matter how fast the beat is, until they turn in for the night.
“You motherfucker. How many times do I have to tell you to keep your hands off my sister?” Greyson barks, chasing James around the small space threatening him within an inch of his life.
Ever the instigator, Olivia started the whole thing and now she’s conveniently shuffling Harper down the hall to get her ready for bed, all the while giggling.
“They’re going to get caught,” Connor whispers. He drags stray hair back from my face and a spark runs down my spine.
I lean back into his chest, and he runs his warm hands from my hips up my ribs until his fingertips tease the sides of my breasts.
I gasp from his touch and grind into where his cock is contained by the thin pajama pants.
Massive hands tighten around my hips and grip me tightly, halting my movement.
“If I get hard right now, you’re taking care of it, doll. Your actions have consequences,” he growls into my ear, nipping my earlobe as he pulls away.
Holy shit, he’s so sexy.
Very interested in these consequences, I hook my arm around the back of his neck and grind my ass into his hardening cock to the rhythm of the music.
“Does my good girl want to play?” he whispers. “You want to leave your sister’s wedding reception early and have everyone know exactly what we’re going to do?”
I shiver at his words but grind back into him harder. His hands travel aimlessly along my sides, around my stomach, and up my torso across my breasts to lightly collar my throat.
“Do you want me to fill you up down the hall from everyone we know?” His free hand lowers to my stomach, fingertips trailing the waist of my pajama bottoms. My muscles jump beneath his touch, and he presses tighter into my flesh.
He’s impossibly hard. He may be teasing me, but the only way he’s leaving this room with his pride intact is if everyone simultaneously looks the other way, or if he uses my body as a human boner-shield.
Deciding two can play at his dirty game, I rest my head on his shoulder and grab his hand to collar my throat. His fingers twitch against my pulse point, and I know I’ve got him.
“I do want you to fill me up…but not in the hole you’ve been using,” I taunt.
“That’s it,” he snaps, his head darts around taking inventory of the remaining partygoers.
Izzy and Reid are in their own world dancing, kissing and reveling in wedded bliss. Greyson must’ve stormed off because he’s nowhere to be seen. As a matter of fact, where did James go?
With the bride and groom occupied, Connor spins us around and grips the back of my neck, marching me towards our suite.
I’m so hot for him I might light on fire, and I’d happily burn if it meant he’ll touch me.
Connor softly closes the bedroom door behind us and locks it. Now alone, face to face, he prowls towards me. I back away as if he’s a fearsome predator and I’m his very willing prey. He backs me up until my legs hit the edge of our bed.
“You want me to fill all your holes, baby? I’ve already claimed your cunt"—He cups me roughly through the thin flannel pants—“which hole are you offering to me tonight? Your virgin ass? Or your mouth?”
I never pictured myself having anal sex, but now I’m panting for it. Anything for him.
“My mouth. I want you in my mouth. I want to make you feel as good as you do when you lick me,” I moan.
“Fuuuuuck, baby. I’ve been dying to get back inside this hot mouth.” He grips my jaw so tightly it drops, opening for him.
He licks into my mouth possessively, with no finesse, only animal need. A whimper rises from my throat when he sucks my tongue into his mouth.
I gently push him backwards and try to drop to my knees as seductively as I can. His hands grip my biceps and pull me back to standing.
“As much as I love you on your knees for me, there’s no way in hell you’re sucking my dick without my tongue deep inside your pussy.” He reaches over his head, tears off his naughty T-shirt and unties my pajama pants.
“Wh-what? How can I…while you…” I stammer, my face burning with embarrassment from my inexperience.
“Do you trust me?” he asks sincerely.
“With everything I am,” I answer honestly.
“Let me show you how good oral can be.” I shudder at his intensity.
I scramble out of my shirt and unhook my bra, tossing it across the room. I hook my thumbs into my untied pants and thong and slide them down my legs, snagging my socks as I step out of them.
I crawl onto the bed on my knees and sit on my heels waiting for Connor to strip.
His eyes devour me, taking in every naked detail as he takes off the rest of his clothes. My nipples harden to tight peaks beneath his gaze.
His hard cock bobs between us and I can’t wait to take him in my mouth—but he told me to trust him, and I want to do this right.
Connor positions his pillows further down the bed and lays back, his body bared to me like a buffet. I take him in my fist and lick the head of his cock. He bucks into my hold and lets me play with him for only a few strokes.
“Come here,” he demands.
I crawl closer to his shoulders before he says, “Turn around.”
My brows furrow, and in my moment of hesitation, he slaps my ass. I turn around so I’m facing his feet when he grips me by the waist and drags me to straddle his chest.
“Back up, baby. I want you to sit on my face.”
I whip my head around. “You want me to what?”
I know what sixty-nine is…but I’ve never done it, and my inexperience is showing.