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She groans and rocks her hips, her clit swelling against the heel of my hand. I need to taste her. Dropping to my knees, I lick that sweet spot at the top of her cleft, forcing my tongue against her flesh as she slowly, carefully fucks herself on myhand.

Fuck, yes.

“Come on,” I urge her between licks. “Come forme.”

She freezes as her sex clutches around my fingers, tight spasms that I want to feel on my cock. Later. Definitely later.

When she finishes, I lick her clean, then slide her panties back into place.

She watches me with a satisfied smile on her face as I wash my hands.

Then I prowl back to her and cage her against the wall. “You can’t tell me something like that and not expect me to followup.”

She gives me an amused look. “I guessnot.”

“Come on, let’s get this overwith.”

“Is that any way to talk about your best friend’s wedding?” She’s laughing at me. I’m desperate and she’s enjoying herself.

I haul her close, pressing my erection into her belly. “Feelthat?”

“Oh, yeah.” She bites her lowerlip.

“All I care about rightnow.”

“So we should talk about math or something?”

“Or something. Yeah.”

“I love weddings,” she whispers. “Dressing up, drinking champagne…it’s like a throwback to days of yore that never really existed. But it’s all just so pretty. And then there’s dancing.”

“You want to dance tonight?” I’m all over that. “I’m yourman.”

“Yes you are.” Her lips twitch, and I’m tempted to just fuck her right now, just because. Just to put my mark on her, to leave a bit of myself inside her for the rest of theday.

Maybe I like weddings too, in my own twisted way. At least I like this one. I like the look on Poppy’s face when she talks dreamily of dancing and dressing up and champagne.

Fuck it, maybe I should do thisnow.

But she’s still talking… “Besides, the sooner the wedding is over, the sooner we get on the road to go meet my parents.”

“You think I’m nervous about that?” My voice catches on a thick burr. Okay, I’m nervous about it, but not for any reason she might think.

For the first time in my life, I want to make a good impression on a girlfriend’s family.

“Maybe not nervous…” She slides me a sly glance. “But they’re going to be all overyou.”

“I can handlethat.”

“It’s loud. Chaotic.”

“Worse than a middle grade field trip group?”

“At least.”

I grin. “I’ll manage justfine.”

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