Chapter 10
ten
Barry
It’s my brother.
One of the voices in this world that I would recognize anywhere and yet, it takes me a full ten seconds to comprehend that anyone might exist besides Petra.
I stare down at the flushed girl beneath me in wonder, simultaneously thunderstruck by her perfection and ashamed of myself for mauling her in the mud, like some base creature out of a nightmare.
But I remember those hot tremors that coursed through her pussy and squeezed me like a fucking sausage grinder moments ago, and I know I would do it all over again. In fact, I want to put my hand over her mouth to keep her quiet and do it all over again right now.
My hand creeps over her mouth and she blinks up at me, acquiescent. Trusting.
That’s what stops me from taking her again. At least, for now.
I’ve demolished her on the ground, mere yards from a public walking trail. Taken her virginity like an uncontrollable brute. And if she hadn’t demanded I pull out, I’d have put a baby in her belly as sure as I’m lying here.
The thought makes my cock stiffen and I circle my hips, grunting.
No.
No, I shouldn’t.
I shouldn’t want this so bad. To impregnant Petra, who is only beginning her life. I shouldn’t want to tie her down and obligate her to me, a recluse. An ugly one, at that. A repellant man who startles people in diners or in the street.
I couldn’t do that to this dynamic, dazzling girl.
But Christ, I want to.
I want to carry her back to our room over my shoulder, tie her to the bed, and skip the wedding so I can spend the next twenty-four hours raw dogging her.
She doesn’t want that, though.
She doesn’t want me. Not permanently.
This is a job for her. Nothing more. She’s here because she felt bad for me.
Reluctantly, I cease crushing Petra’s body and stand up, hanging my head while I fix my half-erect dick back into my jeans, carefully zipping up. Meanwhile, Petra sits up slowly, looking disoriented, hair mussed, her belly still covered in my semen.
“I-is that your brother?” she whispers, feeling around for her shorts and panties.
“Yes,” I say. “I’ll go see what he wants. Take your time.”
She gives me a solemn glance. “Okay.”
I swallow. “Is something wrong?”
“No.” Her chest rises and falls, a lump moving in her throat. “It’s just that…last night and this morning, we did this really intimate thing and then, I…think…”
“You think…”
“A hug would be good afterward. I think it would keep me from feeling lonely.”
The air is swept straight out of my lungs. “Lonely?”
“Yes. I feel like we’re part of each other one minute, then in the next…we’re separate.” Her bottom lip quivers slightly, and it shreds my gut to ribbons. “I don’t want to feel separated so soon, I guess.”
I take a step in her direction, intending to drop to my knees. Pull her into an embrace and never let go. But my brother shouts again and he’s closer this time. “Petra! Barry?”
“Fuck,” I growl through my teeth. “We are going to talk about this later,” I say to Petra, making a miserable sound over the way she huddles into herself. “Please put your clothes on, princess. If he sees you naked, I’m going to have to kill him on his wedding day and bury him in these woods.”
“Roger that,” she murmurs, standing up to pull on her shorts.
Loath to leave her for a second after what she just said to me, but having no choice, I pocket the boxes of condoms and stomp down to the trail, slapping leaves off my shirt and the denim knees of my jeans as I go. “What?” I snarl at Craig, as I spot him coming down the path, looking harried.
“Oh. There you are.” When we’re within a few feet of each other, his steps slow down significantly. “Jesus, man. What happened to you?”
“Petra and I went for a walk,” I enunciate, daring him to make a smart-ass remark.
Amusement twinkles in his eyes. “Oh.” He clears his throat, the mirth dying as quickly as it appeared. “We’re having a bit of a problem back at wedding headquarters.”
I arch a brow, barely able to concentrate on what my brother is saying. All I can hear is Petra telling me she’s lonely after we have sex. “What is it?”
“Karen’s makeup artist got Covid. She just called to cancel.” Craig paces away, raking ten fingers through his hair. “Karen is losing her shit, dude. She doesn’t have a makeup artist on her wedding day.”
“Did somebody say makeup artist?”
Every muscle in my body goes on high alert when Petra comes stumbling toward us, out of the woods and onto the path.
She’s fully clothed, if you can call a sports bra and shorts “fully clothed” (I don’t), but she looks like she’s been attacked by a pack of roving wolves.
Mud streaks on her arms, legs and back. Twigs in her hair.
Chafe marks everywhere. My God. I did that to her. A girl I outmatch in strength and size.
Thankfully, she’s found a way to wipe the come off her stomach.
Probably with the use of my sweatshirt, which she’s holding in her hand.
Craig’s jaw drops and he looks at me, horrified. Accusatory.
Can I blame him?
“Uh…” Craig begins.
“I know. I know. I look a little worse for the wear. It’s my fault.
I slipped down an embankment, and it must have rained overnight, because hello mud.
” Petra whips a phone out of the pocket of her shorts.
“What is Karen’s phone number? I’ll text her some of my work.
Mainly, my subjects are my sisters, but I am way better than nothing. ”
Craig rattles off a number.
Petra fires off a few pics and gets a response within fifteen seconds.
Her chest inflates and she does a little dance, beaming at me, causing my pulse to skitter. “She loves the pictures I sent. She’s going to let me do her makeup. Bridal makeup.”
Craig doubles over, planting his hands on his knees. “Oh, thank God. Crisis averted.”
Petra is already running up the path, toward the resort entrance. “I’m just going to take a quick shower, grab my bag of tricks and go have a consult.” She leaps into the air, doing a full three sixty. “I’m doing the bride’s makeup!”
I stare after her retreating form with a lodgment in my throat.
How can I only have one more day with her?
“Hey, man,” Craig says, shaking me by the shoulder. “You’ve got it bad, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I rasp.
He laughs. “Everyone loves her. Especially Grandma.” He claps me on the shoulder. “But I know she didn’t fall down an embankment. Be a little more aware of your own strength. You could hurt her.”
My stomach roils and now, I’m doubled over, too, alongside my brother.
“Women, right?” Craig laughs, shouldering me.
I shoulder him back, and in that moment, I’m amazed how Petra has brought me closer to my family, simply by existing. Is there a possibility that she’ll allow me to see her past this weekend? In a way that isn’t a paid job?
If not, I fear I’m going to go broke trying to stay in her life.
To keep her in mine.
Yes. I’m starting to think I have no choice.
Now that I’ve been with Petra, being without her is impossible.
Petra
Karen asks for an understated summer glow.
I blend a touch of cream bronzer with highlighter on her cheeks, giving her the perfect balance of warmth and luminosity.
A metallic champagne eyeshadow brings out her eyes.
A rose petal pink gloss on her lips later, Karen is so thrilled with her look, I’m being asked to do makeup on all the bridesmaids, too.
I lose track of time going from one woman to another, then touching up Karen. The mother of the bride gets curious about my tools, then suddenly I’m doing her makeup, too. In one sense, I’m in total heaven. In another, I’m hungry and thirsty and…missing Barry.
I’m starting to feel dizzy when I hear a firm knock on the door of the bridal suite, but I don’t glance up from the liquid eyeliner I’m applying to a girl named Robyn.
“Who is it?” sings Karen, sipping from a teacup.
“Barry.”
Karen laughs. “No men allowed in the bridal suite, Barry—”
“I’m coming in, like it or not. Petra didn’t even have breakfast.”
“Oh.” Karen sits forward, frowning at me. She points to the small buffet set up on the other side of the room. “Why haven’t you eaten anything?”
“Well…” I gesture to the table full of brushes and creams. “I’ve been busy.”
A tuxedo-clad Barry throws the door open and stomps inside carrying a covered dish in his hand, causing more than a few shrieks. He beelines straight for me where I’m applying makeup to the mother of the bride and observes my handiwork. “She looks finished. You’re going to eat.”
I’m temporarily stunned into silence, due to how handsome he looks in a tux. “Wait. But—”
“You’ve been in here for five hours, Petra.”
“Five?”
He grunts. “I’ve been outside in the hallway, waiting for you to come out.”
“For how long?”
Instead of answering me, he turns an incredulous look on the mother of the bride, as if to say, why are you still sitting here?
In response, she rises with a sniff and dashes away.
Barry takes her chair in front of the vanity and pulls me onto his lap.
I almost gasp at the relief that pinwheels through my stiff legs, my stomach growling loudly as he uncovers the dish.
A grilled cheese and fries. I almost sob, it looks so good.
“Eat, princess.”
I’ve already bitten off the corner, falling back against Barry’s barrel chest while I chew.
His arms encircle me and he massages my stiff thighs while I house the sandwich, amazed that I could be transported to heaven in under a minute, all thanks to this man.
At some point, I glance in the vanity mirror and find the bridesmaids and Karen watching us with dreamy expressions on their faces, and I get a lump in my throat, making it hard to swallow.
They think we’re a real couple.
I want to be a real couple.
I don’t to go home tomorrow and never see Barry again.
What am I going to do?
The wedding planner breezes into the room with his clipboard, as he has been doing periodically throughout the morning. “It’s almost showtime! Everyone use the bathroom one last time and follow me. We have the ceremony of the year to attend!”
I’m still wearing the shorts and T-shirt I threw on in my mad dash to help Karen.
I haven’t done my hair or makeup.
I’m never going to make it to the ceremony on time.
I put one final fry in my mouth and twist around in Barry’s lap, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Go to the chapel. I’ll run back to our room to get dressed and coiffe myself, then I’ll meet you there in twenty minutes.”
“I’ll come with you to coiffe.”
I’m already shaking my head. “If you come with me, we’ll get distracted.”
A beat passes before Barry catches my meaning and when he does, his erection swells beneath my backside. “I could use a distraction,” he rasps, running a hand up the front of my throat and tilting my head back, examining my jaw, my mouth. “I was planning on distracting you all fucking day.”
“Of course you were,” I whisper. “You bought five boxes of condoms.”
His lips twitch. “I’m a military man. I’m trained to be prepared.”
“Well, your brother is getting married and you can’t be late. Go.” I kiss him on the mouth, before hopping off his lap to gather my makeup tools. “I’ll slip in as soon as I can. Save me a seat.”
“Of course I’ll save you one,” he snorts, looking affronted that I even reminded him. “You’re sitting next to me, princess.”
My mouth bursts into a mile-wide smile. “I know.”
“Good.” I drop my makeup brushes and throw myself into his arms, sighing when he sweeps me up into a bear hug. “Everyone’s makeup looks perfect, Petra,” he says against my ear. “You saved the day.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, warmth rushing up behind my eyes.
A hook is slowly digging into my chest, though.
A warning pinch that tells me this is too much.
I’m getting too close to this man who covets his solitude and has already been very clear that my age is a problem for him.
I seduced him last night, and now we’re engaged in a temporary sexual relationship. But that’s…all this is.
I have to remember that.
Swiping my eyes on the broad shoulder of his tuxedo jacket, I release Barry and continue gathering my things while he watches me from beneath a furrowed brow.
“See you there,” I whisper tremulously, running from the bridal suite.