The wedding was perfect.” Nikki shook her head at her husband. Her husband.
It had been a busy day, and while she wanted to celebrate with family, a part of her, a large part of her, really wanted to just be with Brant.
Instead she’d just sat through the longest meal of her life.
“Toasts!” Nadine yelled. “We have to do toasts.”
“No, we don’t, nope.” Grandfather held out his hands. “Why don’t you just calm yourself down and get another glass of wine?”
“This man,” Nadine snorted. “Always trying to get me soused.”
“She’s quieter when she’s drunk, if you can believe that,” Grandfather said.
“Does she even know what that is? Quiet?” Brock wondered aloud as a glass of wine was placed in Nikki’s hand.
“You have a funny look on your face,” Brant whispered in Nikki’s ear. “Thinking about something?”
“You mean other than leaving and having you all to myself?” She leaned into him and pressed a kiss against his neck.
He moaned and then gripped her thigh underneath the table. She let out a harsh breath and shook her head.
“Room,” Cole’s voice interrupted. “We have a few hundred, take your pick, just don’t have sex on the table.”
“Some of the best sex I’ve ever had has been on a table,” Nadine piped up.
“More wine?” Brock asked in a cheerful voice. Had she already finished that last glass?
“So, Cole.” Nadine’s voice lit up with excitement. “That Annie is quite special, isn’t she?”
“Nope,” Cole snapped. “Dig your claws into me and I’ll only bleed. Can’t you see I’m heartbroken? My best friend just married a Wellington.”
“Yes, but our families are finally playing nice again. You can tell your father to stop playing his games—besides, now that I’ve got Brant working for me things are even.”
“Father?” Brant asked. “Cole’s last name is Masters.”
Nadine smirked. “His legal name is Cole Masters Titus, the third.”
“What?” Shrieks were heard around the table.
Then Bentley burst out laughing. “Holy shit, we adopted the enemy.”
“Trust me, I’m very distantly related, I haven’t seen Nadine in years,” Cole answered, and then sighed with longing. “They were such quiet years. Happy years filled with laughter and—ouch!”
“Yes, well, now you’ll be lucky to get rid of me,” Nadine said in that haughty voice of hers.
“Any more of that wine left?” Cole asked the table.
Nikki couldn’t stop smiling. Oddly, it made sense he would be a Titus. He was an amazing manager, and he hadn’t been worried about the buyout at all.
“Let’s go somewhere,” Brant whispered in her ear.
“Yes.” She stood and let him lead her away.
“We’re going to get some fresh air,” he said to the table.
“Sure you are,” Bentley called back. “Let us know how all that hundred-and-five-degree fresh air feels in that three-piece suit.”
They left as the jokes kept piling on top of one another. She assumed they were going to his room, but instead he veered down the hall and into the spa.
“Brant?”
“Shh.” He opened and then closed a door. “I’ve been wanting to do this for days.”
His hands were all over her, unzipping her dress, caressing her breasts, licking her neck, kissing her lips.
“My massage room? Really?”
“Where it all began,” he said in a husky voice. “Now, get on the table.”
Anticipation exploded within her. “Are you serious?”
“I’m going to put my hands on you. Torture you. Bring you to the brink of ecstasy so fast that you fall apart, and then I’m going to walk out of here and show you the real meaning of torture, just like you did to me the first time I walked into this room.”
Nikki tipped her head back and laughed as Brant lifted her and gently placed her onto the table. And then he was on top of her, pressing her body against the cool sheets as he rubbed his hands up and down her shoulders. Then he was weighing her breasts, tasting them, sucking, driving her crazy as his lips moved across her most sensitive parts only to retreat and meet her mouth again.
“Brant!” She forgot what she was going to say when he tugged her expensive lingerie from her body and then kissed her harder.
She reached for his pants. “No more kissing, I need you.”
“But I was going to torture you.”
“Four years” was all she said.
And then he was helping her unzip his pants as he released himself and then slid into her with one earth-shattering thrust.
“We can always make up for it later.” She moved with him, his rhythm fast, strong, unwavering, as pleasure rolled and rocked between the two of them.
“I’ll always love you.” His hands dug into her hips as he lifted her body to his one final time.
“Forever,” she whispered against his mouth as he swallowed her cry of pleasure.
Panting, both of them were silent for a few seconds before Brant finally spoke. “Again.”
“But—”
“Fresh air takes a hell of a lot longer than five minutes. Sorry, there’s just something about this table.”
She reached out and massaged his shoulders.
“Fuck.” He hung his head, touching hers. “Or maybe it’s just your hands.” He lifted her hand, pressed her palm to his mouth, and kissed it. “Or just everything.” He took her other hand. “I spent four years trying to drink you away.”
“How’d that work out?” she breathed against his mouth.
“I tried to forget—and only ended up remembering…I remember it all, the soft cries you make during sex, the way you sing in the shower, how you dance in the kitchen when nobody’s looking—I remember it all and I’m a fucking fool for ever thinking I wanted to forget.”
“I love you so much.” She kissed him.
And kissed him again.