I didn’t doubt for a minute that Paige would be able to find something perfect for Jace and Savannah. She had a knack for knowing exactly what to do in the face of impossible odds. Hell, she’d rescued me from what I knew would have been a career-ending downward spiral, and I’d seen her perform similar miracles with all sorts of clients over the past year.

I’d finished fishing through all of the debris littered around the flooded room and hadn’t managed to find anything to salvage but candles. Fortunately, once the wicks dried out, they’d be good as new, but everything else was a loss. I carried the basket of candles back to where Paige was standing, still on the phone.

I leaned against the wall and watched her, unable to stop a smile from curving my lips. I still couldn’t believe she was mine. Long raven-black waves, expressive blue-green eyes, porcelain skin that flooded with color at my touch, and those curves…I forced my thoughts away from her body. This wasn’t exactly the best time for me to get an erection, especially since I knew nothing short of fucking her would relieve it.

It was a moot point though, I supposed. I always wanted to fuck her. Not because I was constantly chasing that physical pleasure, but because I craved being close to her. There were times I laid in bed and just watched her sleep, enjoying the sensation of her skin pressed against mine.

Dammit. I was getting hard.

Hell, I was half-hard pretty much all the time when we were together, or when I even thought of her.

“Got it!” A triumphant smile made her eyes sparkle. “I found us a perfect replacement.” She held out her hand to me. “Come on, we’ve got a ton of work to do.”

* * *

I completely trusted that the new venue would be perfect, but I also knew that my wife wasn’t going to take anything for granted. As soon as we arrived at the Darius Stein Gallery, Paige switched right into professional mode.

I’d never met Darius Stein before, but I’d been friends with Alix and Jace long enough to know important names in the art world, and Darius Stein was one of them. He was known for finding obscure artists and bringing them into his gallery for a debut showing. Many of the artists he introduced would have never seen the light of day without him.

And then he’d gotten picked up on a DUI after crashing through the plate glass front of an Atlantic City five-star restaurant three months ago…with a fifteen-year-old transgendered prostitute in the passenger’s seat. His version of events had sounded like an absolutely convoluted story that couldn’t possibly be the truth, but he’d refused to plead guilty to the charges. Knowing that changing his public image might be the only thing to save him from a conviction, he’d been advised to hire a public relations firm. No PR firm had wanted to take him on, but Jace had asked Paige to talk to Darius as a personal favor, and after a single interview, she’d told her boss that she was going to take him on, either through the firm or by herself.

Mr. Dwight had agreed to let her go through the firm but had insisted she do the work herself. She’d agreed and then set out to prove the story Darius had told her was the truth. That he’d had a single glass of wine with dinner, then been driving back to his hotel when a half-dressed girl had stumbled out into the road, bleeding and bruised. He’d offered her a ride to the hospital, and while on their way, he’d hit a patch of black ice and lost control of his car.

There’d been no physical evidence to support the story, especially since the prostitute had disappeared, but Paige had worked her magic. The charges against Darius had been dropped in exchange for restitution to the restaurant and community service, and he gave all the credit to my beautiful wife.

It wasn’t a surprise, then, that he’d been more than willing to give us use of his gallery, especially once Paige had revealed that the groom was none other than artist Jace Randall.

“I have chairs being delivered,” Paige began, her voice fading away as she and Darius walked the length of the space.

I would’ve loved to go with her, listened and watched as she worked, but I had my own work to do. I’d written a song to be sung during the ceremony, but I needed to do a sound check, feel out the space. I went to the far end of the room, where Paige had indicated the wedding party would stand, and set down my guitar case.

I tuned the guitar without having to put much thought into it, my mind already working over the music I’d written, hearing it play in my head. Once the tuning was done, I moved on to playing, listening to the way the sound carried and echoed, then making the necessary adjustments. By the time I started singing along, Paige and Darius were making their way back around to where I was standing.

“Thank you again, Darius,” she said as she shook his hand. “We really appreciate it.”

He made a dismissive gesture. “It’s nothing. Really. I’m just glad I was between shows. Anything you find, you can use, and if you need anything, don’t hesitate to call.”

After he left, she came back over to me and leaned her head on my shoulder.

“They’re going to love that song.” She moved her fingers across the guitar strings.

I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “This place is great.”

She nodded. “I saw a couple paintings in one of the storage rooms that I think will be perfect. While I’m getting them, can you give Erik and Tanya a call? Let them know where we are and that all we need them to do is get flowers.”

“Flowers,” I repeated. “On Valentine’s Day?”

“Shit.” Paige straightened. “I didn’t even think about that.”

“It’s a good thing money’s not really an issue,” I said with a half-smile. “Erik won’t have any problem covering it, and if Jace argues, they’ll probably just strike some deal where Jace pays for the flowers for Erik and Tanya’s wedding.”

“True,” she agreed. “I’ll check in with Sine and Alix while I’m deciding what to put on the walls.”

* * *

Paige wasn’t back by the time I finished my call to Erik, so I headed back the way she’d gone. It wasn’t difficult to find the storage room since there were only four doors, and each one was clearly marked, including the one that was open at the end of the hall.

She was standing in front of a beautiful landscape of a waterfall when I entered.

“I like it,” I said as I came up behind her and wrapped my arms around her. “Erik says he knows a place that guarantees flowers for any occasion, so he and Tanya are heading over there. It’ll probably be an hour before they get here.”

“That gives us plenty of time to get the paintings up before the chairs arrive.”

With her firm, fine ass pushed back against my thighs, my focus was definitely not on setting things up.

“I can think of some other things we could do with an hour.” I pressed a kiss to the side of her neck.

“Seriously?” She looked over her shoulder, an eyebrow cocked in amused disbelief.

I grinned at her. “Do you really think it’s going to take us a whole hour to put up some paintings?”

“Reb–”

“Just a quick one, my Paige.” I slid my hand between her legs, cupping her through her jeans. I cursed the fact that she hadn’t yet changed into her bridesmaid dress – easier access – but I was nothing if not up to a challenge.

She let out a shaky breath, a sure sign that she was weakening. “I don’t know.”

“Then you know what you have to say.” The tone in my voice shifted, and I waited to see if she’d say her safe word.

She didn’t.

I slid a hand under her shirt, pushing her bra up so I could get my hand on her bare breasts. Fuck, I loved her tits. They were just a bit more than a handful, with sweet, tight nipples made for clamps. I pinched one, her moan sending my cock from half-hard to painfully hard in seconds.

“Unbutton your pants.” I plucked her nipple and scraped my teeth over the shell of her ear. “Slide your hand inside, under your panties.”

“I…I’m not wearing any.”

I closed my eyes. Fuck. “Say that again.”

“I’m not wearing any panties.”

I’d intended to have her get herself off while she sucked me, but my plans changed. “Why, my Paige, are you not wearing panties?”

“The bridesmaid dress, it only works with a thong or nothing, and I didn’t want to wear a thong all day.”

I pulled my hand out from under her shirt and tugged her pants down to her knees. “I think maybe you wanted me to punish you.”

She shivered as I slid my fingers into her pussy. She was practically dripping.

Perfect.

“I’m going to fuck your sweet little ass, my Paige.” I pressed a finger against the entrance in question, pushing past the ring of muscle with less gentleness than I usually used. “And it’s going to hurt. But once I come, I’ll let you come too.”

I unzipped my pants as I worked a second finger into her ass. I hadn’t been lying about it hurting, but I knew her limits.

“Bend over.”

All she needed to do to stop this was use her safe word, but she didn’t. Instead, she bent over and put her hands on her knees to help steady herself.

Damn. I could stare at that ass all day.

Unfortunately, I didn’t have all day.

I spit into my hand, using it to wet my cock. This wouldn’t be dry enough to cause real pain, but it wasn’t going to be as easy as it had been other times. I grasped her hip with one hand and used the other to hold myself steady. I eased my way inside, each inch painfully gained. Paige whimpered and cursed, but never said her safe word.

“Fuck, you feel so damn good.” I dug my fingers into her flesh as I held myself still for a moment. “So hot. So tight.”

“Please, Reb,” she begged. “Please, fuck me. I need to come. Please.”

I would have loved to draw things out, but I had no desire to keep things going until Erik and Tanya showed up. Or worse, the chair delivery guys. Nobody got to see Paige this way. With that in mind, I began to move, short, deep thrusts meant to take me to a quick climax. Hers would follow.

“Before the reception, we’re going to find someplace private,” I promised, “and I’m going to fuck your ass again. I want you to feel me every time you move tonight.”

“Yes, Reb. Yes. Please.”

The pressure was building at the base of my spine, and I knew I was close. “If I tell you to finger yourself under the table at the reception, will you do it?”

She nodded. “Yes. Please just come. I need to come.”

“If I let you come, what will you do for me?”

“Anything,” she answered immediately. “Anything. Please.”

Her pleas pushed me over the edge, and as I came, I reached under her and pressed my fingers to her clit, making rough, quick circles until she screamed my name, her muscles clamping down on my softening cock hard enough to hurt.

Fuck, I loved my wife.