Lexington

This tux is hot. I’m sweating. It could be sympathy sweats. Bane is freaking the fuck out right now. He might look calm, but he’s adjusted his tie five times in the last thirty seconds, a sure sign he’s nervous. We Mills men are fidgety motherfuckers. None of us would ever excel as professional poker players. I elbow him in the shoulder and mutter, “Stop fidgeting.”

He drops his hands and clasps them in front of him. That lasts for all of three seconds before he starts tapping on his hip.

“Seriously, Bane. Chill out.”

“I’m fucking nervous,” he snaps. “Do you have the ring?”

“It’s still in my pocket, where it was when you asked me five minutes ago.”

The music cues and he wipes his palms on his thighs.

I grab his shoulders. “It’s do or die time.”

Bane’s expression is incredulous.

“Sorry.” I clap him on the back of the neck. “You got this. Go claim your woman for all eternity.”

“I think it’s safe to say you shouldn’t switch to a career in motivational speaking.”

“Thanks for killing my dreams.”

He laughs. “I don’t know how Amie puts up with you.”

“It’s ’cause my dick is huge.”

My mother slaps me on the arm with her clutch. “Lexington, you’re in a church.”

I turn and give her my most charming, apologetic smile. “Sorry, Mimi, just trying to take Bane’s mind off his nerves.”

She glares, but I can see she’s fighting a smile. I step aside and let my brother link arms with our mother and walk down the aisle. Griffin, who returned from Asia after a six-month long business trip just in time for the wedding, follows behind.

Amie’s gown is lavender, clingy and seriously sexy for a bridesmaid dress. Ruby gets props for that. I’m looking forward to getting my hands on Amie, and peeling that dress off, possibly with my teeth. I already know what she’s wearing under it, thanks to a few pictures sent earlier today.

Amie smiles and winks as she takes her place as the maid of honor opposite me. I don’t really pay attention to the ceremony as much as I should, which is obvious when I’m elbowed for the ring.

When the ceremony is over I step up beside Amie and thread my arm through hers, walking her down the aisle. I don’t know if this kind of wedding will ever be something she’ll want after what she’s been through, but I do know that I’m going to love her regardless.

As we pass the last few aisles her grip on my arm tightens. I follow her gaze to where Brittany Thorton, or Whore-ton as Ruby has not-so-fondly nicknamed her, is sitting in the back row. But it’s not my cousin beside her. I vaguely recognize the guy she’s with, but I can’t put a name to his face. Apparently the rumors that Armstrong was dumped are true. Moorehead Media has run into some financial issues in the past few months, and it’s having quite the impact on his desirability factor.

“What the hell is she doing here?” Amie whispers.

I shrug. Her parents are here, too, since they’re old family friends, but it’s kind of weird that she’d attend when she’s been set up with both the groom and myself. Although, based on my experiences with Brittany, it’s all about the ladder-climbing opportunities.

Once pictures have been taken I don’t get to be near Amie until speeches are over. The way we gravitate toward each other is subconscious. We’re not like magnets that attract and push away. She’s my sun and I’m her moon, connected by an invisible thread, bound but free.

I take advantage of every single slow song. Holding her close, I drop my mouth to her ear. “How long are we obligated to stay?”

“We’re in the wedding party. Until the end.”

“Do you think we can disappear for a few minutes? You can say you forgot something in our room.” I nibble on her lobe.

Amie hums like maybe she agrees that this is a good plan. My semi gets closer to becoming a full hard-on.

“I can feel that,” she whispers.

“Feel what? This?” I press my palm firmly against her back, keeping her tight against me.

“Stop trying to probe my navel, and watch your hands, Mr. Mills, your grandparents are here, we need to keep it PG.” She shifts the hand that’s pressed against her low back up several inches.

“Call me Mr. Mills again.”

“No.”

“Just once?” I brush my lips across her cheek.

“No.”

“Come on, baby. I’ll make it worth your while later. You’re killing me in this dress tonight, especially since I know what’s underneath it.”

She leans back, which pushes her hips into mine, and bats her lashes. “You like my new pretties?”

“I can’t wait to see what they look like off you.”

She rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. “In a couple of hours you can get me naked, like you do pretty much every night.”

“It’s two hours too many.”

“You can survive two hours.”

She’s right. I can. But I don’t want to. So I spend the next ninety minutes whispering filthy things in her ear. She threatens to withhold tickle trunk access if I keep it up, so I stop. Well, the whispering. Instead, I make her close dance with me even to the fast songs so she can feel my hard-on. Then I do all the things I know drive her crazy. I skim the length of her arm, kiss her shoulder, nuzzle her neck, and trace the line of her spine.

The second we’re in the room she’s on me, pulling her jujitsu moves, taking me to the floor. “Look who’s having a hard time with control now.”

“You’re the one who had your hands all over me all night.”

“I like touching you.” She knows this.

She bites my lip and yanks my shirt free from my pants. “Well you better start touching me in the places that count.”

“That sounds like a threat. You planning to take something away if I don’t give you what you want?”

Amie narrows her eyes at my raised brow. Then she sits up, bracing her hands on my chest, one side of her mouth curving up in a sly grin. “I brought your favorite toys.” At the tilt of my head her smile widens. “You might wanna consider playing nice with me.”

I sit up in a rush, setting her off balance. She shrieks when I shove her dress up to her hips and grab her ass. Pushing to an awkward stand, I wrap her legs around my waist and carry her to the bed. Round one is frantic and wild. Round two is gentle and slow. I love every side of Amie, from naughty and dirty to sweet and soft.

As we lay on the rumpled sheets afterward I stroke her back. “How was tonight for you?”

She props her chin on my chest and closes one eye so she can focus on me. “You want me to rate the sex?”

I pinch her ass. “The frequency and volume of your orgasms indicate it was a ten out of ten.”

She tweaks my nipple in retaliation so I thread my fingers through hers to prevent it from happening again. “I’m talking about the wedding. You handled it well.” We’ve had conversations leading up to today, but being prepared doesn’t necessarily mean that the emotional impact will lessen.

“The only thing that threw me was Brittany being there. Otherwise it was fine. Good even. I had fun. Were you worried?”

“I just want to make sure you’re okay, and that you don’t keep everything locked up in here, like you sometimes do.” I tap her temple.

“I’m okay.” Her smile is soft as she kisses my chin and then lays her head on my chest again.

I wait, because I’ve given her a door and it will take her a few minutes to find the courage to accept the invitation to walk through it.

“Lex?”

“Yeah, baby.”

“Can I ask you something without you taking it the wrong way?”

“You should be able to.”

She breathes out a laugh. It’s another minute or so before she speaks again. “Do you want to get married? I mean, eventually, is that something you’re going to want? I don’t mean to me. I mean—” She shakes her head and mashes her face against my chest.

“Is marriage off the table for you?” I know it’s a possibility. Her first trip down the aisle was memorable for all the wrong reasons. I’d love to have the opportunity to replace it with new, better memories, but only if it’s something she wants, too, somewhere in the distant future.

“Just forget I asked that. It sounds stupid. I don’t want to get married, so don’t worry that I’m trying to push for that or anything, because I’m not.” She tries to escape so I tighten my hold on her.

“Are you asking because you’re afraid that’s what I want, or are you afraid I don’t?”

“I don’t know why I asked that. I need to use the bathroom.”

She’s still trying to wriggle free. “Don’t run away from me, baby.”

She stops fighting and goes limp. As soon as I loosen my hold she rolls away. I expect it. I know her well enough by now to understand her reaction to things. Just because she managed today doesn’t mean it wasn’t hard for her. I don’t let her get very far. I cage her with my arms and fit myself between her legs so she can’t bolt the way she wants to, the way she used to, before me, anyway.

“Did today scare you?” I whisper against her lips.

Her eyes flip open. She lifts a shoulder in a half-shrug. “They’re so happy together.”

I rub my nose against hers. “So are we. Nothing has to change.”

“Sometimes it terrifies me how much I love you. I didn’t even realize this kind of love was possible, but I don’t know—” She chokes on the words.

“Neither do I.” I stroke her cheek, her fear makes me sad, but I understand where it comes from. “I won’t push you for things you might never be ready to give, but I can tell you right now, I don’t want to ever be without you. I’ll revere you regardless. I don’t need a wedding to prove that.”

“You don’t need it, but would you want it?”

I traced the contour of her chin. “Would you?”

“Can you answer the question directly instead of with another question?”

“If given the option, would I want to marry you? Yes, Amie, but only if it was what you want, too. I have you in every way that counts. You live with me, you sleep beside me, you love me, that’s enough.”

“For now?”

Her uncertainty and worries aren’t unexpected tonight, so I don’t take them personally. “For as long as it needs to be enough. I don’t ever want you to feel tethered in this life again. I just want to keep your heart safe, baby.”

“When you say things like that you make me believe forever is possible,” she whispers.

“Good.” I brush my lips over hers. “That’s all I want, just you until the end of time.”

She twines her fingers in my hair, her legs wrapping around my waist with a soft laugh. “So totally just a hook-up.”

“Exactly. Just a permanent hook-up.” I break the kiss as I shift between her thighs. “Now I’m gonna love you, and you’re gonna like it.”

Her nose wrinkles, but she’s grinning. “Oh, you think so?”

“Oh, I know so.”

“How are you planning on loving me?”

“Like you’re my forever.”

And she is. No matter what that forever looks like, Amie’s mine, and I’m hers.