Chapter Sixteen
The ceremony was short and sweet. The bride walked down the aisle with her father, then exchanged vows with her groom. After the minister pronounced them married, they kissed, signed the register and walked out of the church again.
At the reception, the meal was served family style, with the salad course followed by heaping bowls of pasta, then platters of thinly sliced roast beef and breaded chicken cutlets, plus bowls of roasted potatoes, green beans and baby carrots. Conversation flowed as freely as the wine, and Alyssa found herself enjoying the interactions between Jason and his friends.
After dessert—a choice of cheesecake or a slice of the wedding cake—the bride and groom shared their first dance, then the floor was opened up to the rest of the guests.
Alyssa had danced with Jason before, but being in his arms felt different tonight. Or maybe she felt different—nervous and determined.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked, his lips close to her ear.
“I was just wondering if it was true, what Kevin said at dinner,” she admitted.
“Kevin did a lot of talking at dinner,” he remarked.
“I was referring to his claim that Jenny Reashore broke your heart.”
He shook his head. “Not true.”
“But she was the girl who dumped you before you asked Lacey Bolton to the homecoming dance?”
“Yeah,” he admitted. “But we were seventeen—neither of us thought we were going to be together forever.”
“So how long were you together?” she asked him.
He lifted a shoulder, as if he didn’t remember.
“How long?” she pressed.
“Eight months.”
“And how long were you with Melanie—that girl in college?”
“Five months.”
“So your longest relationship was when you were seventeen?”
“How about you?” he challenged. “According to your grandmother, you haven’t let anyone get close since your high school graduation party at the beach.”
“She told you that?”
“The question is—why didn’t you tell me?”
“I told you about what happened at the beach,” she reminded him. “And that’s more than I’ve ever told anyone else.”
He was quiet for a minute, as if considering that admission. “You’re an amazing woman, Lys, and I hate to think that you’d let anything that happened in the past hold you back from what you want now.”
“I’m trying not to,” she said.
“Good.”
As the music changed, Alyssa found herself wondering if Jason’s response would be the same if he knew that what she wanted now was him—and if she ever would find the courage to go after what she wanted.
* * *
They danced and they talked and they danced some more. When Alyssa slipped away to the ladies’ room, Jay went to the bar to refill their drinks.
“I didn’t think you’d pull it off,” Nat admitted, joining him at the counter.
“You know I never back away from a challenge,” he told her.
“So you’ve dated Alyssa for a few months and brought her as your date to Matt’s wedding—now what?”
He accepted his drinks from the bartender. “Now I’m going to take this glass of wine to my date.”
“There’s no need to rush,” she said. “She looks like she’s enjoying herself on the dance floor.”
He glanced over his shoulder and discovered that Nat was right. Alyssa had returned and was dancing again—with Gilmore. It wasn’t a slow dance and it wasn’t just the two of them, but Jay didn’t appreciate the other man shaking and shimmying with his date. But Alyssa had requested that he forget about the feud for one night, so he deliberately loosened his grip on the glass before the stem broke in his hand.
“I understand the reasons for your proximity rule,” Nat said to him now. “But sometimes there are good reasons to break the rules.”
His gaze moved back to Alyssa again.
“You can thank me now,” she said.
“I’m starting to think maybe I should,” he acknowledged.
“Maybe? Why only maybe?”
“Because I’m not entirely sure where we go from here.”
“You need me to draw you a map?”
He knew she was joking, and yet he didn’t think it was such a bad idea. He was usually sure of all his moves when it came to the opposite sex, but it had been a very long time since anyone had mattered to him as much as Alyssa did. If anyone ever had.
“I think I can wing it,” he said with more confidence than he felt.
“Just don’t make the mistake of comparing her to any one of the legions of women who have come before,” she cautioned.
“There haven’t been legions of women,” he denied.
She lifted a brow.
“And what is a legion, anyway?”
“A very large number,” Kevin chimed in as he joined them. Then he nodded to Jay. “You and Alyssa look good together. Not just good, but happy.”
“We’re having fun,” he confirmed.
“Maybe we’ll be dancing at your wedding next.”
“Bite your tongue,” Jay said, though the knee-jerk response was made without heat.
“Fifty bucks says he’s down on one knee before Christmas,” Nat said.
“The way he looks at her, I’d wager it happens before Thanksgiving,” Kevin said.
Jay shook his head. “Do you guys really have nothing better to do than bet on my love life?”
“Not at the moment,” Nat said.
“Although we could go dance,” Kevin said to her.
She did a double take. “What?”
“I’m asking if you want to dance with me.”
“Where’s your date?”
“Dancing with yours,” he said. “So why should we be left out?”
Nat let Kevin lead her to the dance floor—and Alyssa began to move away from the crowd. As she drew nearer, she smiled, and Jay felt his lips curve in response as an unexpected warmth filled his chest.
Yeah, he was going to have to thank Nat for her machinations.
But right now, he had more important things to do—and dancing with Alyssa was at the top of his list.
* * *
After the happy couple had slipped away to begin their honeymoon, the rest of the wedding guests began to disperse. When Jason asked Alyssa if she was ready to go, she lied and said yes. But the truth was, she didn’t want her time with Jason to be at an end.
“I guess this is where I say good-night,” he said after he’d walked her to her door. But his gaze slid over her in a way that somehow melted her bones even as it steeled her resolve.
“Or you could come in,” she suggested as an alternative.
He waited a beat before responding. “For a drink?”
She shrugged, trying to appear casual. But her heart was pounding so loud and fast she was sure he could hear the echo of its beat bouncing off the walls. “If that’s what you want.”
“What do you want?” he asked her.
“I don’t want the night to be over,” she admitted.
He glanced at his watch. “Except that, technically, it already is.”
“You’re right. And you probably have an early morning, so forget I said anything.” She fumbled for her keys. “Good night, Jason.”
He stepped in front of the door, blocking her escape. “Tell me what you want, Alyssa.”
She nibbled on her lip. It was now or never. And if she didn’t go for it, she’d always wonder what if. Maybe he’d say no, and that would be horrible and humiliating. But if he said yes... Well, she really wanted to experience yes.
So she inhaled a steadying breath and said, “I want you to break your rules—just for tonight.”
“I don’t know that I can do that,” he told her.
“Oh.” She dropped her gaze, feeling horrible and humiliated and—
He tipped her chin up. “If I break my rules, it won’t be for just one night. If I make love with you tonight, I don’t think I’ll be able to walk away in the morning.”
“Oh,” she said again as blossoming hope pushed all the negative feelings aside.
“I’ve wanted you for a long time,” he confided. “Even when I told myself that I shouldn’t. But now that I know you want me, too, there’s only one question remaining.”
“What’s that?” she asked breathlessly.
He smiled. “Your place or mine?”
Alyssa answered that question by turning the key to unlock her door. And when he followed her inside and drew her into his embrace, she went willingly, even eagerly. Her arms lifted to twine behind his head; her lips parted to welcome his kiss.
She wanted this, she really did, but now that it was finally going to happen, she couldn’t help but feel a little nervous and uncertain.
Jason, sensing her hesitation, pulled back. “Second thoughts?” he asked gently.
“No,” she said. Then, “Maybe.”
“Can you explain that?”
“I don’t want anything that happens tonight to change things between us.”
“Things have already changed.”
“You’re right,” she acknowledged. “I know you’re right. I just wish you could promise me that things won’t get weird.”
“I don’t usually bring out the toys and props the first time I’m with a woman,” he told her. “Plus, all that stuff is upstairs.”
“You’re teasing. I hope.”
He smiled. “Yeah, I’m teasing. But maybe we should go upstairs—because I don’t have any protection in my wallet.”
“I’ve got some. Um, condoms, I mean. I picked them up when I was shopping,” she said, because she had no intention of telling him that Sky had bought them.
Alyssa might not know a lot about seduction, but she was pretty sure that mentioning the name of another woman—particularly a woman whose family was at odds with his—would cool the heat between them more effectively than dumping a glass of ice water in his lap.
“In that case,” he said and kissed her again.
She started to move down the hall, toward her bedroom, not letting her lips break contact with his. Because as long as he was kissing her, she wasn’t able to think about what was happening, which meant that she couldn’t focus on all the doubts and insecurities that usually reared up when she got close to someone.
She felt as if they’d been moving toward this for weeks, maybe months. Even when she’d told herself they were just friends, she’d wanted more. Wanted this. Through months of fake dating and their seven-day engagement, the pretend stuff had stirred real desires. But she’d been certain it was all one-sided, until the morning she’d awakened in his arms and discovered he was aroused.
Of course, a lot of men, particularly those in their sexual prime, woke up with erections. But Jason had seemed to credit—or maybe blame—her proximity for his condition. As if he wasn’t just aroused but aroused by her. And that was when the first seeds of this seduction plan began to take root in her mind.
His hands skimmed up her back now, making her shiver. He found the zipper at the back of her dress and inched it downward. The straps slid off her shoulders and she instinctively lifted a hand to hold the bodice in place.
He caught her wrist and drew it away. “No more hiding, Lys. Not from me.”
The fabric fell away, revealing the scarlet lace bra that—along with the matching bikini panties—cost half as much as the dress.
He tugged the zipper the rest of the way, and the dress slipped over her hips to pool on the floor at her feet, leaving her clad in only red lace and three-inch heels.
He swore softly, reverently. “It’s a good thing I didn’t know what you were wearing under that dress when I picked you up, or we never would have made it to the wedding.”
“I’m happy we got to see your friends get married,” she said. “I’m even happier that you’re here with me now.”
His fingertip traced the lacy edge of her bra, skimming over the swell of one breast, dipping into the hollow between them, then back up again. He reached behind her with his other hand, deftly unclasping the hook and discarding the garment. Then he hooked his fingers into the sides of her panties and tugged them over her hips, then down her legs. When she was completely naked, he stripped away his own clothes, then eased her back onto the bed.
She closed her eyes to better absorb the myriad of sensations that assailed her as his hands and lips moved over her. She’d never been touched like he was touching her. Had never imagined that she was capable of feeling so much. And every time she thought there couldn’t possibly be more, he proved otherwise.
She’d read books, she’d seen movies, but none of that had prepared her for the exquisite sensations that ricocheted through her body, sparking new wants, igniting new desires. His hands were strong and sure as they moved over her, knowing just where and how to touch her.
He cupped her breasts in his hands, his thumbs stroking lazily over her nipples. His touch triggered an unexpected response between her thighs, making her throb and ache. Then his mouth replaced his thumbs, and as he suckled at one breast, then the other, the ache intensified.
As his mouth continued its sensual assault on her breasts, his hands moved lower, skimming her sides, sliding over her hips, arrowing toward the juncture of her thighs. He continued his leisurely exploration, sucking in a breath as his thumbs slowly traced the narrow strip of hair that was all that remained after her French bikini wax.
His thumbs parted the slick folds of skin, exposing her most sensitive core to his gaze. His touch. His mouth.
Her head fell back as his tongue stroked over her.
Slowly. Gently.
Then faster. Harder.
She tried to draw in a breath, but there was no air—there was nothing but sharp, shocking pleasure.
She curled her fingers in the sheet, bit down on her lip. His hands slid under her bottom, holding her in position while he did unexpectedly wicked and wonderful things to her with his mouth, while every dip and flick of his tongue drove her closer and closer to the edge of oblivion.
For the first time in years, she had cause to worry about the condition of her heart. She’d never felt it beat so hard and fast. She didn’t know that it could without leaping right out of her chest or at least cracking a few ribs.
But she didn’t ask him to stop. She didn’t want him to stop. And then the wonderful, glorious sensations built to a crescendo of light and color that exploded inside her like Fourth of July fireworks. A seemingly endless grand finale that left her breathless and weak.
She closed her eyes as delicious shudders rippled through her and he slowly made his way up her body, dropping leisurely kisses along the way. On her belly, her navel, the hollow beneath her breastbone, the pale scar between her breasts. And her heart, having slowed to a more natural rhythm, stuttered.
“Okay?” he asked.
Her lips curved. “Much better than okay.”
“Good.”
He kissed her throat, then the underside of her jaw, then her lips.
“Is it my turn now?” she asked.
His laugh was strangled. “No. Not tonight.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s been a long time since I’ve been with a woman and I’m already doubting my ability to last more than three minutes.”
“But you’ve already given me so much more than I expected,” she told him.
“Then your expectations were way too low, because we’re not even close to being done yet.”
As he was talking, he tore open a square packet and covered himself with a condom. He nudged her legs apart and positioned himself between them, and everything inside her trembled with anticipation. She wasn’t just eager now but desperate for the fulfillment she instinctively knew he could give her. She wanted to feel the hard length of him inside her, stretching her, filling her.
He rose over her, bracing his weight on his forearms as his lips brushed hers gently and his erection nudged her soft flesh, testing, teasing. The ache inside her turned to need, and she drew her knees up and dug her heels into the mattress. “Now,” she said. “Please.”
He didn’t make her ask again. In one deep stroke, he pushed into her. She gasped at the shock of the intrusion as he broke through the barrier of her virginity. He stopped moving. In fact, he went totally and completely still.
She knew that she should say something, but there were no words to express what she was feeling. No words to describe the unexpected thrill of feeling him buried deep inside her, of the glorious sensations that battered her from all directions.
Instead, she let her instincts take over, lifting her hips off the mattress, pulling him deeper, urging him on. He swore through gritted teeth as he gave up the fight for control and let her desire—and his own—carry them both toward the pinnacle of pleasure.