Not Over You

Gloria clucked her tongue. “No, this is your something old.”



Jemma Leigh gestured to Summer’s ears. “The earrings are something borrowed and blue.”



“A penny for your shoes.” Isabella’s voice cheerfully rang out.



Summer wiggled her toes. “I’m barefoot.”



Isabella shrugged. “I don’t think you need it anyway. Gabriel is the nervous one.”



Summer blinked. “He’s nervous?”



“Of course he is, he’s marrying the woman he’s loved since he was fifteen,” Gloria said, and the world tilted on Summer. She felt dizzy. She felt like a fraud.



“Looks like it’s contagious,” Isabella said with a little laugh, helping Summer to the bed. “Need anything?”



“I need to sit down, is all,” Summer gasped, breathing slowly and gripping the bedpost.



Jemma Leigh and Gloria exchanged smiling looks. Summer felt even worse.



“Sit down and drink some water, sugar,” Jemma Leigh said, helping her to a high-backed chair and handing her a glass. “Don’t worry about your lipstick.”



Summer sat there, drinking water, while she debated on whether or not she should run away. She had no idea why anyone called it having cold feet, because she felt hot all over.



Before she knew it, Gloria and Jemma Leigh were herding her out the door and into the backyard. They walked with her to the beach, where everyone was sitting in rows of chairs as they waited on her.



The sun shone bright as music played. She could hear the waves lapping on the shore. A few seagulls cried out. It was perfectly warm, perfectly breezy, and she was a perfect fraud.



She blinked, trying to get her eyes to adjust. Gabriel came into focus, standing in front of an arch of roses and ivy. He looked so handsome standing there, dressed in a pale blue shirt and khaki pants. His dark hair gleamed in the sun, as did his tan skin. Her mouth twisted a little when she realized he was as barefoot as she was.



He smiled, his entire face lighting up with joy, and it seemed his dark blue eyes glowed.



She couldn’t help but go to him, then, and take his arm, listening to the words and repeating her vows. All she could see and think and feel and breathe in those moments were Gabriel.



Angel.



He kissed her, and she kissed him back, not wanting this moment to end. Not wanting reality to crash and make her want to burn this time in her life away. Not wanting anything or anyone but this man, standing in front of her and kissing her like he loved her.



Everyone clapped and cheered for them. The sound snapped her out of her thoughts.



Get a hold of yourself.



Summer stepped back, face flushing. Gabriel’s face was flushed as well.



“You make a beautiful bride, Mrs. Edwards,” he said, his voice husky with desire.



Mrs. Edwards. She smiled at him, and for once in her life, she had no comeback at all.



They were married.



To each other.



Forever, according to their vows and to Gabriel himself.



Married.



Until death do us part.



MARRIED.



She couldn’t stop thinking of that word, and all it meant to him, all it didn’t mean to her, while the wedding party was hugged, kissed, and wished nothing but the best.



“I like the flowers in your hair,” Gabriel said as they sat at an elaborately decorated table just for the two of them. “The veil’s pretty, too.”



“You mother gave me the veil.”



His dark brows rose. “Did she?”



“Yes.” She couldn’t bear to look at him, so she glanced at their feet. “I can’t thank your parents enough for doing this. I hadn’t thought of all the things that go into weddings. They’re not exactly looked upon too favorably in my family.”



“Yet, Rose married anyway.”



Before she could answer, someone tapped a spoon against their glass. So, of course, she and Gabriel had to kiss.



And, of course, everyone had to cheer and say awww.



And,of course, she wanted to go throw herself into the ocean.



“Tonight can’t come fast enough,” Gabriel said, brushing his mouth over hers. She shivered in response, her skin coming alive at the feel of him.



Summer tried to smile, tried to be cheerful and happy, but all she could manage was a little, “Mmm-hmm.”



It wasn’t until they had eaten and were driving away, with shoes tied to the bumper and a Just Married sign on the back of Gabriel’s truck, did she realize that she had no clue where they were going. She didn’t expect a honeymoon. There wasn’t enough time to plan one, and she had no passport to go anywhere.



“Where are we going?” she asked, because she was at least curious about his plans.



He grinned at her. “Home.”



Chapter Twenty



Gabriel held out his arms to Summer, and she went willingly into them, her body shaking. They were in the master bedroom of his house, and she knew what would happen next. She knew what he expected and what she wanted, and she knew that they were the same.



Still…



“Nervous?” he asked, his hands gliding down her back.



“I’ve done this before, remember?” She wanted to smack herself for saying that, for reminding him of the rumors and the truths he thought he knew about her.



“You don’t have pretend with me, not anymore,” he murmured.



She made a noise in her throat. “I’m not pretending.”



He leaned back, gazing down at her. “What you think I want isn’t what I want.”



“How do you know what I think?”



“It’s all over your face.” He rubbed the pad of his thumb over her cheek. “I want you, Summer Jean Holland Edwards and no one else. I want to make love to you all night and tomorrow and the next day. I want to love you for so long and so good that you’ll never want our honeymoon to end.”



Wanting she could understand. Sexually needing her, she could handle. “Lofty goals for a virgin, don’t you think?” she said with a teasing grin.



“I might still be a virgin, but I did some research so I wouldn’t be totally unprepared.” His gaze skittered away, and he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “But I completely understand if you’d like to wait until later.”



“Look who’s the nervous one now.” She stepped out of his embrace.



His gaze snapped back to hers. “I’m not nervous. I’m trying to be considerate.”



“Maybe I don’t want considerate.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Maybe I want your hands and mouth all over me.” Boldly, she reached out and cupped him between his legs, licking her lips at the thickness and length she found. He groaned, low in his throat, and her confidence grew. “Maybe I want this inside of me. Right. Now.”



Gabriel didn’t move, and for one horrible minute, she thought he didn’t want her at all. But then his arm snaked out, and he grabbed her wrist, tugging her to him. He kissed her, hotly and tenderly, all the while working at the zipper of her dress.



Finally, it gave. He pushed the straps over her shoulders and down her arms, to where it fell and pooled around her feet. His own clothes were the next to go, until he stood hard and proud for her. All hard, tight abs with muscular thighs and long legs. His shoulders were broad and his arms, good Lord, his arms were muscular but lean.



“Do I meet your approval?” he asked, looking at her from beneath his lashes.



She gave him a saucy smile. “You’ll do.”



Grinning, he took her in his arms once more, sucked on her bottom lip and then glided his tongue along the seams of her mouth until she opened for him. The room seemed to move, but no, it was just him, guiding her to his big bed and laying her down.



He stretched out beside her, one hand propping up his head while the other touched her, traced the contours of her body. “Take off the bra.”



She unsnapped the front and threw it across the room, anxious for his touch. But to her surprise, he didn’t touch her breasts at all, just made lazy, wide circles around them. Her nipples grew hard, and his dark gaze didn’t miss it.



She sucked in air when his head dipped, when his tongue teased the tip of a nipple and his fingers slid inside her panties. Her thighs widened, and he wrapped his hot mouth around her nipple and began to suck.



“Oh,” she moaned, coming off the bed. His fingers slid through her curls, finding her as wet as she’d ever been in her life.



“Do you like this?” he asked softly against her skin while circling her clitoris.



She whimpered. “Yes.”



“Take off your panties.”



Once the lacy material had been removed and thrown to the other side of the bed, he parted her, and she grabbed his wrist. Always, she’d envisioned being the one in control, the one who pinned him to the bed and took his breath away, like the night she had on the sofa.



“Trust me,” he said, leaning up to kiss her on the lips. “Trust me to take care of you.” Finger by finger, she released her death grip on him. “Breathe, sweetheart.”



He kissed her again and again, while his fingers explored… while one of those fingers slid inside of her. This time, both of them sucked in air. Her lashes fluttered, and she caught a glimpse of his face. It was drawn taut, as if it actually hurt to touch her and kiss her.



“Angel,” she murmured, trying again to take control, to not let the emotions that simmered below the surface boil up and wash away her determination. “Let me ease you. Let me stroke you, put you inside of me… just let me—”



“No.” He slid another finger inside of her and she couldn’t stop her hips from moving against him. Then he began to move, all that wetness making her slippery. She not only felt how aroused she was, she could hear it.



It didn’t hurt, she thought. For once in her life, it didn’t hurt to let another take control. So, she completely surrendered to Gabriel’s touch… his kisses. She surrendered to his hands and mouth and beautiful words that she wouldn’t allow her mind to dwell on.



He lowered himself onto her, balancing on his elbows. His cock nudged insistently against her thigh. “I’m—” She pressed her bare chest against his, and he hissed. “Not sure what you wanted to do for—” She glided her leg up the back of his leg and he shook. “Protection.”



“There are condoms,” she said, reaching between them and touching him. “But most men complain about the feel.” He frowned, and then his face went deliciously tight again when she cupped his balls. “Or you can go bareback and pull out.”



“Why the hell would I pull out?”



He was on edge, she realized, and would soon snap. Wouldn’t it be a completely erotic sight to see him snap, now that she was back in control again? Always she would fight for this kind of control, even though surrendering to him had felt so blissfully good.



“You don’t have to, because I’m on the pill.” She nipped at his bottom lip. “So you can go hard and deep and never, ever pull out. You can fill me up until—”



He shoved her hand away, gripped her thighs, and began to push inside. She made a noise of discomfort. The sheer size of him was amazingly good and bad.



“Okay?” he breathed.



“Yes.” But it did hurt a little. She hadn’t been with another man since Darius, before Ivy had been born. Only, she couldn’t tell him any of that. It was too much exposure for her heart and soul.



Suddenly, he pulled out, and she clutched at his back. “What are you doing?”



“You’ll see,” was all he said before he pushed down her body, and palmed her butt in his big hands, lifting her to his mouth. “You almost made me forget about what I’ve been dying to do to you, with that dirty talking you were doing, sweet thing.”



She squirmed, not used to being on display like this.



Once again, he’d taken over and she felt helpless to stop him. His head dipped, black hair brushing against her pale thighs. The first long lick of his tongue made her curl her hands into tight fists, the second had her begging for more, and the third, well, there wasn’t a third.



Instead, he settled himself between her thighs and feasted. “I delight in the taste of my lover,” he whispered.



She caught the grin, the heated look in his eyes, right before he sucked her clit into his mouth. “Angel, angel,” she chanted, teetering on the edge of what she knew would be an earth-shaking orgasm.



He sucked harder, and she almost screamed his name.



“Love hearing you say that,” he growled, crawling up her body. “Say it again.”



“Angel,” she moaned as he slid inside her. She gasped, and her eyes opened wide.



Gabriel gazed down at her, his face tight. “I’m not sure how long I can last.”



“Me neither,” she confessed. Forget control. All she wanted was him.



His head dropped, and he began to move.



Oh God, he moved and stroked and touched her in just the right spot, gave her clitoris a little pat that made her arch off the bed and into him. He did it again and drove himself so deep that she swore she could taste him in her mouth.



“Like that?” he asked roughly



Burying her face into the crook of his neck was her only response. He didn’t let up, didn’t give her a chance to find her bearings, or even to think of what she should do next. Where she could touch him and make him—



He shifted, the head of his cock hitting her in just the right spot, and she saw stars.



Widening her legs, she fisted her hands in his hair and brought his mouth to hers, kissing him. And kissing him some more, until she came, crying out his name and begging for him to never stop.