Page 21

Chapter Twenty-One

Cleopatra

I’m on the dance floor, Lydia to my right, and another friend from college to my left. We’re doing the dorkiest of all the wedding dances, the Electric Slide. But it's so fun, and we giggle as we mess up the steps and then attempt to watch and copy the more coordinated dancer.

Lydia whispers to me. “You need to catch my bouquet tonight.”

“I’m too short.” I laugh the sweet romcom idea away. “Even in these heels. I’ll get trampled by your bridesmaids.”

Lydia claps in time with the dance, then tugs on my elbow. “There he is. Your hottie date.”

I glance over to where she points. The moment I see him, my heart lunges to my throat. Blaze stands by the bar, leaning back on an elbow with casual indifference. Tonight, he wears a navy suit. He’s stunning .

Naturally, every one of Lydia’s single friends is eyeing him.

It’s really hard to see him standing there and know that he’s not mine.

I’ve been having trouble finding him since the reception began. “Hey, stranger! I’ve been looking for you.”

“Hey, Cleo.” He leans down, kissing my cheek, enveloping me in his scent. “I’m glad you found me. I need to tell you something.”

His tone is so serious that my gaze snaps up to his face. “What?”

“I’m leaving tonight.”

“What? When?” Now, my heart is sinking into the sexy black heels he bought for me in Italy.

The Electric Slide ends. Always and Forever begins.

“After this song,” he says.

“What?” His words hit me like a ball of ice. I go all cold inside. I cross my arms over my chest, hugging myself. “I thought we had one last night together.”

He holds his hand out to me. “Dance with me?”

My voice trembles. “Okay…” As he leads me onto the dancefloor, emotions swirl like a tornado. I don’t know why his abrupt leaving has shaken me, but it does. I’d envisioned us at his hotel, wrapped in one another’s arms.

Deep down, I secretly hoped we’d have one last night together .

My thoughts calm as he slips his arms around my waist. I wrap mine around his neck, and together, we sway to the slow, soft melody as the band plays. I rest my cheek against his chest, inhaling his scent, feeling his warmth, and taking in every ounce of him I can before we’re torn apart. His chin rests on the top of my head. I love it when he does that. Sometimes, he buries his face in my hair, and I can feel him inhale, smelling me.

“What do you think about sneaking into the back of the church?”

I glance up at him.

His eyes glimmer with mischief. “One more time. Just for the hell of it.”

This is a bad idea. A terrible idea. But my vagina tingles ferociously at the very horrible idea.

“It’s only going to make our goodbye that much harder.”

I can’t believe he’s leaving. I want to say yes to going to the back of the church with him for many reasons, but the strongest urge is to keep him here a little longer.

With me.

He’s kissing my neck, his lips brushing over my earlobe. “Please, cutie.”

It's not fair. I love it when he calls me that. I melt against him, losing all my strength and determination, and I agree. “Okay. One time.”

“For old time’s sake. ”

“Right,” I nod against his chest as we sway, knowing it’s not for old time’s sake.

We both know this is our last goodbye. We both know this is for the best.

The mood feels light as we sneak out the back of the reception

The dark church is silent, the scent of incense absent today, but nothing else has changed. He pulls me into the very same alcove, and it’s as if we never left. Only today, I wear couture in an appropriate color; Target clearance wedding attire is a distant memory.

And today, instead of being filled with doubts about doing this because Blaze and I are stepsiblings, I only fear the breaking of our hearts in this passionate goodbye.

His mouth is already on mine, his tongue invading, his hands gripping me as though I belong to him. As I always have and always will. The feeling tugs at my heart, making me wonder if I’ve made a mistake coming back here. His fingers sneak up my dress, tracing a searing path up my thigh. His fingers toy with the waistband of my panties, and I'm a mess of contradictions.

I shouldn’t.

But my body screams yes, my traitorous hands gripping his shoulders, pulling him closer even as my mind wars against this. He drags his touch down my leg, his breath scorching my skin as he removes my panties, just like last time.

“For old times’ sake,” he says with a wink, tucking them into his pocket .

"Blaze," I plead, a final desperate attempt to cling to sanity. "We can't do this..."

"Shh," he hushes me, his breath hot against my ear, burning me up inside. "Just feel. Don't think."

“Same as you said last time,” I smile.

“And that was amazing. Wasn’t it?” And his hand is between my thighs.

“It was.” I gasp against him as he pleasures me. I’m drowning in sensations that are overwhelming my better judgment. I shake my head, denying his words, denying myself, even as my body betrays me, leaning into his touch. “This time feels different.”

His fingers slip between my thighs, stroking gently, drawing out a soft moan from deep within me. I can feel his rough calluses, a stark reminder of the reality I'm trying to escape. My body arches into his, even as my mind screams to stop.

"No, Blaze," I gasp, one final attempt at reason, but his name on my lips is a broken plea, a surrender masquerading as resistance. His hands grip my waist, lifting me onto the polished wooden table behind us. The cool surface jolts me, but it's not enough to override the heat of his body, the fire in his touch. Same as before.

"I’m going to miss you so much,” he confesses.

"I’ll miss you too. Which is why we should stop.” My voice is barely a whisper as he kisses my neck, each touch chipping away at my resolve .

His hands slide up my thighs, pushing my skirt higher, exposing more of my bare skin to the cool air of the church. I shiver, but it’s not from the cold. It’s from the way his touch electrifies me, awakening every nerve ending, setting my body alight.

"Blaze, please," I beg. This time, I know I’m begging him to stop because I can’t.

His lips find mine again, silencing my pleas as he presses against me, his body hard and insistent. I can feel his heart pounding against my chest, echoing my racing pulse. He reaches the very core of me, and I gasp. My hips ease into his touch, even as my mind screams in protest.

He pauses, his breath hot on my cheek as he searches my face, his voice a ragged whisper, "Tell me you don't want this, Cleo. Tell me to stop, and I will."

But the words won’t come. Instead, a soft moan escapes my lips, a white flag of surrender to the forbidden desire that is him. His eyes, intense and searching, hold mine for a moment before he leans in to kiss me again, his fingers never stopping their torturous dance.

My body jolts at the contact, a wave of pleasure and pain crashing over me. He swallows my gasps, his kiss deepening as he strokes and circles, driving me to the brink of madness.

"You're so wet, Cleopatra," he murmurs against my lips, his voice hoarse with desire.

He quickly undoes his pants. Gripping me we lock eyes for a brief moment, emotions passing between us, then I feel the head of his cock pressing hard against me and with one thrust he enters me fully. I burn and stretch to take him, the feeling immediately warming to eye-rolling pleasure.

“Oh. God.” I cling to him, my fingers running through his hair. He buries his face in my neck, thrusting again. My hips rise to meet him, my legs locking around his waist like I’ll never let him go.

Maybe I won’t.

Maybe I’ll leave here and go back with him.

He cups my face in his hand, forcing my gaze to meet his. “You sure this is the right choice for you, Cleo?”

“What do you mean?” I gasp as he thrusts inside me again, and my body experiences sheer relief from the intense friction. The knot of my legs tightens around his waist.

“What do I mean…? I don’t even know.” His voice trails off as he looks up, gazing at the ceiling of the church as he slowly rocks his hips back and forth, building a rising wave in my core. His pace escalates. He grips me tighter. His gentle movements change to desperate bucks. I’m clinging to him, meeting him at each thrust.

I’m entirely lost in the moment, the feeling of our intense coupling. The wave inside me rises. I’m on the brink of climax, ready to release. I cling to him, wanting to hold him here forever, yet knowing this is the last time we will be together.

“Oh. God.” My heart tears in two as I come. I finish, saying his name like a prayer. “Blaze.”

“Cleo.” Hot tears spill down my cheeks. He comes hard, one tight clench, holding me so tight in his arms. I feel him filling me, heat and wet, marking me as his one last time. He cups my face, staring into my eyes.

The pleading in his gaze causes me physical pain as warm, lucid fluid flows through my veins. It’s a strange mix of emotions and feelings: the body's fulfillment with the heart's longing. My chest aches as I stare up at his face, a face I’ve grown accustomed to seeing daily.

Arms that held me. Hands that caressed me.

I whisper the words, “Is this our goodbye?”