Rose’s wedding is beautiful. It’s even better that I’m the maid of honor and I didn’t have to do half my share of planning. Rose and her wedding planner have been so on top of it that everything went off without a hitch, and I’m seriously considering bringing Maria on board to help me with my own planning.

Sam and I are making our way through the receiving line to say hello to the newly married couple. It sounds crazy, but even being the maid of honor I’ve barely had a chance to say hello to Rose today. She’s been swarmed by people all day, and we only had a few minutes before the actual wedding to connect. Fingers curl around my hip, and I smile as Sam presses a kiss to the back of my neck. “Are you going to try to catch the bouquet? Because you’re next.”

“I already know I’m next, so no. I’ll let some other girl try to win someone’s heart with flowers.”

I can feel him smile. “Well, that’s how you won my heart.”

“With flowers?”

“Just one flower.”

I slap him on the arm, glancing around to make sure that no one’s listening. “Stop that. You didn’t fall in love with me for my virginity.”

“You’re right,” he says, “but I’m still glad that you gave it to me.”

“I took yours too.” I roll my eyes.

We move forward in line, and I glance around. The Heron’s Nest—a five-star restaurant on the rich side of Hawthorne—is absolutely gorgeous. And it’s decorated in Rose’s colors of silver and turquoise. There was a suggestion that rose be one of her colors but she stopped that one in its tracks. Sam’s hand glides down my back, taking his time tracing my skin where the dress dips almost to my waist. He makes a low sound in his throat.

“What?” I ask.

“Just thinking about how fun this will be to peel off you.”

I can’t help the smirk on my face. “Later. It took forever to get into this dress.”

He wraps his arms around me and pulls me tight against him, and I can feel what must be an obvious erection against my ass. “And what if I can’t wait?” he asks in my ear.

The line moves again and I don’t have time to respond. We’re next. “Hi!” Rose envelopes me in a hug of lace and silk, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen her this happy. “I know we’ve barely had a chance to talk, but we’re sitting next to each other at the head table, so we’ll have some time.”

“Good,” I say. “It was so perfect, Rose.”

“I know.” For a second her eyes get a little teary. “Thanks for being a part of it.”

I lean forward and kiss her cheek. “Anything for you.”

She’s beaming, but she glances behind me at the line. “I’ll see you in a little while?”

“Of course.”

Glancing over at Thomas, I don’t see a very happy face, and I just catch the tail end of his question. “—heard from him?”

I slip my hand into Sam’s. “I haven’t. I’m sorry, Thomas.”

Thomas clears his throat. “Well, there’s nothing you could have done.” He smiles at me, but there’s a sadness behind it. “Thanks for being our maid of honor, Fiona. I know Rose really appreciates it.”

“I was happy to,” I say. Sam pulls me away, and the next people in line move up to say hello. “What was that?”

A sigh. “Robert didn’t show. No one’s seen him since the engagement party. We were hoping that he’d come anyway, we tried to reach out to him, but nothing. Tom’s sad. He hoped he would be here.”

“Is Robert okay?”

Sam shrugs. “As far as we know, he’s fine. Just…off doing his own thing I guess.”

I remember when I spoke to him at Rose’s party. He seemed really unhappy. Maybe that unhappiness made him want to disappear for a while. I’m not paying attention, and the next thing I know I’m swept through a door and into a giant room with a dance floor. And Sam is dancing. With me. I freeze instinctually, because the last time we danced that night ended in what separated us for ten years.

Sam sees my face, and I can see that he knows. “I think it’s time to replace some of those memories. Don’t you?”

I nod because I don’t trust myself to speak. The music is slow and soothing, and as Sam leads, I relax. He’s smooth and confident, and soon my head rests against his chest as we circle slowly. It’s peaceful, and not at all as bad as I feared.

“I like having you pressed against me like this.”

I laugh. “I thought we were having a moment.”

“We were definitely having a moment. And I think we can also have a different kind of moment.”

Lifting my head to see his face I spot the mischief in his expression. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

Sam smiles, and I know that I’m in trouble. It’s a smile full of lust and a dare and I know that I’m going to hate and love what he has to say at the same time. “Behind me, in the corner, there’s an emergency exit.” I look behind him, but I don’t see it. I’m about to ask, but he continues. “It’s behind the drapes the Nest put up for the wedding.”

I see it now, a tiny crack in the turquoise draping, leading to a dark alcove.

He pulls me close again, so only I can hear. “I want to fuck you at your sister’s wedding, just behind those curtains.” I close my eyes, dizzy with the vision that is spiraling through my head as he speaks. “I want to pull that silver skirt up around your waist and make you come while all these people are drinking champagne right next to you. I want to come inside you and know that I’m dripping down your legs the rest of the night.”

I moan softly because I can see it all, and I want it. The way Sam talks to me like this never fails to make me wet, and I am now. His fingers tighten on my waist, guiding me toward the corner in our dance, smoothly charting our course through the other couples. “What do you say?”

“Yes,” I breathe.

We reach the edge of the dance floor and Sam spins me under his arm and through the gap in the curtains before anyone even has a chance to see where we’ve gone. I turn back to him, and he’s right there, pressing me against the wall, the only light the dim red glow of the exit sign. Sam’s lips fall on mine, a crushing kiss that steals my breath because even after six months, I’m still not ready for it—the sheer pleasure of being with him.

His hands are on my skirt, pulling it up until it’s bunched around my waist and the crinoline is scratching my thighs. “This underwear was for you,” I say against his lips. The thong is silver to match the dress. “I knew you’d want to see it later.”

“Don’t worry,” he says. “I’m still going to.”

My moan is lost in his kiss, and he lifts one of my legs up, granting him access to me. Fingers stroke and caress and slip inside me and my breath catches because now he knows me. As we’ve relearned each other’s bodies he’s made a study in exactly what makes me tick, makes me shudder, makes me come the hardest. He knows exactly how to twist his fingers so that he’s stroking my G-spot and making my knees go weak.

I reach between us, tackling his belt because I want him inside me now. He doesn’t argue as I guide him against me, pulling aside my thong so he can push inside—which he does all in one stroke. I gasp, and he laughs softly. “I feel like we’ve been here before. Me having to tell you to keep quiet. We don’t want to scandalize all the guests.”

There’s a snarky reply in my mind somewhere, but it’s lost as he pulls back and thrusts in. God, yes. Sam’s fingers grip my thigh, holding me steady and wrapped around him. This angle is straight and deep and I can feel every delicious inch of him. I’m so turned on that I’m halfway there and he’s barely touched me. “Remember,” he says, “quiet. Anyone could come through those curtains to see what they heard, and they’d be able to see me fucking you. Just like this.” He emphasizes his words with his movement, and I have to close my eyes. I love the idea of being caught, of taking risks. I always have. Sam knows that, and knows exactly what to say to make me realize it. “There’s people five feet away from you who have no idea that my cock is buried inside you.”

My pussy clenches in response to his words and he laughs against my skin, kissing my neck. I moan softly, and then louder because it feels so good. I can’t help it. Pleasure in my core is swirling upward, outward, a perfect storm that’s bringing me to the edge and fast and I don’t know if I’ll be able to hold it in. It’s a good thing that Sam lives out in the middle of nowhere, because I’m not quiet. I’m never quiet.

He grabs me around the waist and lifts me off the ground so that both legs are wrapped around him, and oh…fuck. My hands are against the wall and then his shoulders, and I’m grabbing at anything because it’s right there. Pleasure pleasure pleasure. I’m drowning in it. So much that I’m overcome but not enough for the storm to break.

“Sam,” I beg, even if I don’t know what I’m asking for.

His mouth crashes down on mine, smothering the noises I’m making as he fucks me harder. My bare back scrapes against the wall as I’m pressed against it. Sam drives into me again and again, and I break open, shaking with pleasure and trying to hold back, hold it in, keep it quiet. The orgasm rocks through me, and I’m lost in it, gasping. The effort to keep it contained makes it that more powerful, and I’m shaking with it. Sam drives into me a final time, letting go, and I feel heat spread through me.

Neither of us move for a minute, the aftershocks of my orgasm making me shiver as he holds me. Sam’s forehead is against mine, his breathing hard. “I look forward to seeing that thong,” he says, smiling.

“It’s going to be ruined now,” I say.

“Exactly.”

He kisses me again, and there’s a crackle of speakers and a voice. “Ladies and gentleman, may I introduce for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Logan.”

“Shit,” I say. “They’re going to announce us next.”

He lets me down and zips himself back into his pants. I rearrange my skirt and pray that my hair isn’t too messed up. I can feel Sam’s cum dripping down my thigh and flush with embarrassment, but I don’t have time for that right now. We step out from behind the curtain and applaud Rose and Thomas as they make their way to the head table. “The Maid of Honor and Best Man, Fiona Monroe and Samuel Logan.”

We step forward and wave, hand and hand, and follow the happy couple to the head table. Sam is sitting by Thomas, and I’m sitting by Rose. I sit down, and she glances over at me. “Shit.”

“What?”

“I owe Thomas fifty dollars.”

I shake my head. “Why?”

Rose gives me a look. “We had a bet going about how long it would take for you to have sex. I bet that you’d wait until after we cut the cake.” My eyes go wide, and Rose rolls her eyes. “Don’t give me that look. You sneak off to do it every chance you get.” She smiles. “Don’t get me wrong. It’s cute, but I was hoping to win.”

“It’s that obvious?” I ask.

She laughs and takes a sip of water. “Yes.”

“God.” I think I must be bright red now. I glance down the table and see Thomas grinning, with a shocked look on Sam’s face. I can only imagine their version of this conversation. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Rose laughs. “I can’t say I won’t do the same at your wedding.”

Someone calls her attention away for a photo, and I meet Sam’s eyes. I’m embarrassed, but also not. It almost makes me want to do it again, right now. After all the wedding traditions are through, the cake, the bouquet, and the sendoff of the bride and groom, Sam finds me sitting at one of the tables, eating a piece of cake. “Ready to go home?” he asks.

The party is still in full swing, but I’m exhausted and Sam has a promise to keep. I take his hand and we say our goodbyes as we make our way out to our car.

“I can’t believe they bet on us.”

Sam chuckles, “I can.”

“We’ll have to make a bet at our wedding.”

“We can make a bet now,” he says, spinning me and backing me against the car.

I raise an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“I bet that you can’t keep quiet when I peel you out of that dress at home and fuck you senseless.”

“And what are the stakes in this bet?”

Sam stops and thinks. “If I win—and I will—you have to make me dinner naked, and I get two hours to tease you where you’re not allowed to come.”

“Hmm,” I say. Sam loves to see how long he can edge me, and I love it to because by the time I come it’s so intense that it’s like nothing I’ve ever felt. But two hours is a long time. “Okay,” I say. “But I get the same thing if I win.”

A devious smile plays across his face. “Deal. And to make it just a little more interesting, how about we say that the prize will be offered on our wedding night.”

I freeze. Oh, he’s good. “Deal.”

He kisses me, but it’s not the powerful one I expect. It’s soft, intimate. “Have I mentioned that I love you today?”

“Yes,” I say, “but it’s always nice to hear.”

“I love you. Marry me?”

I laugh. “I already said yes.”

“I know, but it’s always nice to hear.”

“Yes,” I say, “I’ll marry you.”

“Good. Now let’s go home. I have a bet to win.”

I open the door and slip inside, “Not on your life.”

* * *