Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
CROIS
As they walked outside of the tent, he felt his cell phone vibrate in his pants pocket.
He wanted to take it out and put the whole thing on silent or turn it off.
He’d just left it on in case Harmony wanted to contact him.
What he’d seen earlier when he’d checked his phone right before the ceremony was a whole lot of texts from different phone numbers.
He didn’t know the numbers.
There wasn’t even a name attached to the texts, but he knew… he KNEW who it was.
The texts were telling.
(555) 555-6123: Hey… when can we go out for dinner?
(555) 555-6123: I’ll make sure you have a great time. And a guaranteed happy ending if you know what I mean
(555) 555-8912: This is your number, right? Cross?
(555) 555-8912: I know you got in trouble because of me. I can make it all better. I just need to see you.
(555) 555-0101: Okay, maybe you didn’t get the messages earlier, trying another number.
(555) 555-0101: The people at the corner store think I’m some kind of spy or that I’m crazy.
(555) 555-0101: They don’t understand me.
(555) 555-0101: I’m sure you don’t understand me. But I could show you how good it could be.
(555) 555-6672: Look I could get my uncle to promote you. Aren’t you tired of working on the street? Dealing with drunk bitches like me?
(555) 555-6672: You could be more than just a beat cop. My uncle could help you.
(555) 555-6672: You just have to contact me. We can start small. Like have a drink with me
(555) 555-6672: We could go to a bar. Or someplace more personal
(555) 555-6672: Your place?
(555) 555-6672: Mine?
(555) 555-6672: Stop ignoring me! You don’t understand what I’m capable of.
Crois pushed those messages out of his head.
Everything that was connected to Veronica Catalano was… radiation. Nuclear sludge.
Any contact he had with her was dangerous to his health.
His attention needed to be focused on the woman walking beside him.
She deserved it.
She deserved everything.
When he stopped walking, he turned to look at her.
The solar lights in the rose garden gave him enough light to see her face.
It was a warm golden light that made her look like she was amber colored.
“Honey.”
He couldn’t see the blush on her cheeks, but he could imagine it.
He could tell by her expression that she was pink across her cheeks and to the tips of her ears.
“Thank you for coming with me to the wedding.”
“Thanks,” she tipped her head a little to the side, “for asking me.”
“You look amazing in that dress.”
She swayed closer to him and her free hand raised to touch his chest, smoothing over his lapel. “And I’m going to have dreams about you in this tux.”
Crois smiled. “It’s a rental, but if you like it that much, I’m buying one.”
“Yeah?” He heard her soft laughter. “Is it expensive?”
He leaned in. “If you like it that much, it’ll be worth it.”
She shook her head and then stopped. “I’m not going to tell you what to do.”
He moved closer, circling his arms around her. “I wouldn’t mind if you told me what to do. Especially when we’re alone like this.”
She frowned a little. “I don’t want to be bossy.”
“Bossy?” He grinned at her. “You?”
Her frown curved up in a little smile. “I can get bossy.”
She sounded almost affronted that he didn’t believe her.
So, he gave her a chance to flex those muscles.
“Okay, honey. Go ahead. Boss me around.”
He watched his words sink in and take effect.
She nodded and then she reached for him.
HARMONY
“Okay, honey.”
She loved the way he said that word.
She loved it even more that he called her honey.
“Go ahead.” His smile and the rumble of his voice warmed her inside out. “Boss me around.”
Oh, wow.
It was a simple thing.
Just a few words.
But it felt like a gate opening up inside of her.
For so many years she’d been holding herself back.
Second guessing.
Third guessing.
Many, many guessing and over thinking.
But here was this man.
Tall.
Strong.
Beautiful.
Everything she admired but thought she couldn’t have.
And he was telling her to be bossy.
To be bossy to him.
Okay.
She could do that.
She put her hands between them, smoothing her hands over his lapels and then then up the white dress shirt under it up and over his collar.
Her fingers moved over the bare skin of his neck and along the beard on his jaw.
His beard was nice to look at but it also tickled against her skin.
The sensations on her palms sent shivers down her spine, but it didn’t stop her. It only spurred her on.
She cupped the sides of his face as he’d done to her.
As she’d seen others to do.
And then she rose up on the toes of her sparkly sandals and put her lips to his.
She kissed him.
She kissed him, tilting her head one direction…
And then the other.
He held still for a moment, but when she moved, brushing her lips against his over and over, he joined in, his hands against her lower back, his lips adding more pressure than her own.
It was life changing.
Empowering.
When she slipped a hand to the back of his neck and felt the warmth of his skin under her palm she felt him moan through their connections.
Yes, she murmured inside her head, this. I can do this.
He leaned into her and she pushed right back her leg moving between his.
His hands on her back brought her closer and then he wrapped one arm around her and lifted.
Her skirt brushed against the inside of her thighs and then she felt the hard length of his leg right where she needed it.
Yes.
She tipped her head back and he chased her lips.
She opened her mouth and touched the tip of her tongue to his lips.
He opened his lips and his tongue met hers, dueling in her mouth and then in his.
The scents from the Dunne Garden Roses filled her senses along with the scent of Crois’ skin.
“Saint.”
She said the word, but it was swallowed up in someone’s mouth.
Whose?
She had no idea.
But he backed away, breathing as heavily as she was, looking down at her.
His eyes were sparkling in the darkness, and she felt a real sense of achievement.
He looked like that because of her.
That was power.
She wanted more of it.
More of him.
She rocked forward, wanting another kiss, but he held her back for a moment.
“What was that, honey?”
She smiled at him, loving the rough rasp in his voice.
“What did you say?”
Harmony leaned against him, from her thighs to her chest, they were there fit together inch by inch.
“Saint.” She said the word and felt it through their bodies.
“Honey,” he leaned in and placed little kisses at the corners of her mouth. “I’m no saint.”
She smiled, reveling in the way he was touching her.
“It’s part of your name.”
He smiled at that. “Sure… It sure is. But where I come from that same name is pronounced… sin.”
Her heart fluttered in her chest, and she shook in his embrace. “Sin.” She tried to copy the exact tone and inflection of his voice, but she knew she got it wrong. “Maybe… I shouldn’t try-”
“Try it, honey.” He urged her. “Even when you get it slightly wrong, it feels sooo right.”
“Sin.” She kissed him and felt his fingers dig into her hips as he kissed his way along her jaw. “Sin,” she repeated, feeling the name put weight on her tongue.
His tongue licked along the side of her neck and her fingers dug into the back of his neck.
She felt her legs go slightly limp, but she didn’t fall.
Crois held her up.
Held her against his body.
It was enough to make her warm and for the first time in her life she felt… needy.
“Crois?”
He straightened up and looked at her. His eyes searching hers. “Is something wrong?”
“No. No…” She bit into her lower lip, needing the sting to focus her thoughts. “I… wanted to know if we could go back.”
“Back?” She saw the confusion in his eyes. “Back to the tent?”
She licked at her lips and breathed in the clean, rose-scented air. “Back home.”
“Yeah.” Crois nodded his head and helped her stand. “Yeah, we can go wherever you want.”