Page 132 of The Wedding Menu

I mumble confused words against his hand, my body slamming back and forth to meet his.

“You’re so pretty like this,” he huffs as his hands move across my back. He grips my hips, and when his hold tightens, I could die from that alone. From knowing fucking me with little restraint is what he wants.

“Yes, Amelie, come,” he gasps, and, pumping slower inside me, he lets out a low grunt. “Just like that, beautiful.”

My orgasm explodes around him as he hits the same spotover and over again, and with his thrusts faltering, he gushes out his pleasure and pulls me up.

My body shudders as his mouth rests on my shoulder, his hot breath making that spot his as he rides the last wave of his orgasm.

For a few seconds, nothing happens. We stand against the wall, sweat dripping down both of us and our orgasms still tingling, electrifying the air. But his hands don’t rest for too long before he starts rubbing them over my ribs, then my thighs, tracing my body like a map. He kisses the back of my head, my neck, and once he slides out and turns me around, he takes my lips with his.

“I can’t go one day without being inside you now. Do you understand?” he whispers, his words slurred and only half pronounced. “I’m done for, Amelie.”

I hook my arms around his neck, his warm breath mixing with mine and my heart skipping a beat. He said it again. Maybe hereallymeans it. Maybe he’s forgiven me.

Once we clean up and walk out, we’re entrapped in a cloud of giggles, kisses, and whispered words I really hope nobody else hears. But to be honest, I’m too busy being disgustingly happy to actually check. On top of that, walking is challenging as Ian grabs me from behind and forces me to move with my back against his chest as he kisses the side of my face.

We tumble into the hallway, our bodies still together as I shriek and tell him to let me go, though that’s the very last thing I want. We’re back to being us, finally, though it’s even better now because there’s no distance, no phones, and no Frank. Just us. As for the seed of fear planted deep in my soul, I’m trying as hard as I can not to let it sprout. Trying even harder not to think of Ella’s words.

It feels as if this is more than just a few days’ worth ofadventure. But he hasn’t flat out said it. He hasn’t spoken of logistics, of what kind of future he envisions for us, if any.

“Let’s grab lunch?” he whispers into my ear as we move in front of the counter. The receptionist glares at us as his arms wrap around my stomach, holding me to his chest. “Or I could just eat you.”

“Your diet appalls me.”

“Then I’ll eat some food,” he says, dropping kisses onto my shoulder. “And you can eat my co—”

“Ian.”

We both turn to the right, and standing in front of the revolving doors are two men. I’m not sure which one I recognize first. If it’s my dad, standing to the right with his nostrils flared and the face of someone who’s just been stabbed in the back, or the one who called Ian’s name.He’ssucked away all the light in the room, as if he’s acting like a black hole where all my joy goes to die.

William Roberts.

“Dad?” Ian asks with a jovial voice. Immediately, his body stiffens behind mine, and once I check his expression, I notice his glare is directed at my dad. It’s probably for the best, because judging by William Roberts’s expression, he definitely didn’t expect me to be here, just as I didn’t expect him.

“Get your hands off my daughterright now,” my dad demands.

Ian scoffs, leaning closer to me. “I really was onto something when I said your dad’s stuck in 1968.” Then, with a smirk, he turns to my father. “Mr. Preston, I will get my hands off your daughter as soon as she asks me to, and not one second before that.”

There’s such tension in the room, it’s almost hard to breathe, the air warm and dense despite the AC. Though I have lots to add to that conversation, I can’t utter a single word, because all I can see is William Roberts.

Panic makes me freeze. I knew I was bound to meet this managain, especially if things between Ian and me turned out to be more than a few days of adventure, but I expected I’d have some sort of notice—some time to prepare. Or maybe I just lied to myself about ever being ready for this moment. Either way, it looks like it’s time to face the music.

“Let the kids be, Hammond,” William says, waving my father off. His voice is deep and cold, making shivers run along my arms and neck. Next to my dad, he looks taller, fitter, and younger. Surely, he looks handsome in his fitted suit. He approaches us, and I almost want to shy away, almost want to run and hide somewhere in this hotel until it feels like I can breathe again.

Once he reaches us, he quickly hugs his son, glancing at me from over his shoulder with a predatory look in his eyes that makes my skin itch. Whatever shock he must have felt on seeing me is long gone and has been replaced by his usual scheming expression.

“Dad,” Ian says as they break away. “This is, uh—”

His eyes jump from his father to me until William comes to his aid. “Amelie Preston?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Ian rolls his eyes. “She’s the woman I told you about. She’s… from the past year?”

“Oh.Ooooh,” William says in surprise as his eyes bob from his son to me. “Of course.” Squeezing Ian’s shoulder, he asks, “She’s not engaged this time around, is she?”

My stomach drops. Heknew? William knew all along about his son and me?

“Dad,” Ian scolds with a smile. “She’s single. Or, er—” He takes his hand in mine. “Well, we haven’t—we’re not—” With a sigh, he focuses on his dad again. “Jesus, thanks a lot.”