Page 20
Twenty
Luna
Do you honestly think that now that you’re back in my life I’m going to ever let you go again?
My hands shake as I do up the zipper on my side.
This is crazy.
And yet, I’m doing up the zipper on a white dress I bought specifically for this moment.
And it’s not some frumpy potato sack—it’s the prettiest dress I’ve ever seen. It’s something I bought because I imagined what Aiden would think when he saw me, how his face would change and his eyes would warm and his expression would heat.
And now he’s waiting just outside the bathroom and I’m seconds away from him seeing it.
Seconds—okay, well, less than an hour—away from marrying him.
What if he doesn’t like it? What if I disappoint him?
What if he decides he doesn’t want this?
What if?—
“Enough,” I whisper to myself in the mirror, deliberately shoving the thoughts away, not allowing my brain to go there. I’ve thought myself into a tizzy the last couple of days. I’m doing this, so what’s the point in thinking it to death?
“There isn’t a point,” I mutter then force out a breath. It’s jerky as hell, same as my movements as I put my earrings in, missing the holes more than once before I manage to fasten the backs of the chandelier style adornments.
But I keep breathing.
And I securely fasten the pretty earrings that once belonged to Grams. She had passed them on to my mother, and when Mom died, I inherited them.
So, in a way, it feels like they’re both here with me tonight.
I finger the diamond-coated fringe and study myself in the mirror.
The earrings are the only accessory I paired with my dress.
Because the dress is so perfect that I don’t need anything else.
It’s made of silk that cascades down my body, lightly tracing along my curves, clinging to my breasts, my hips. It gathers slightly near my ankles, highlighting the sparkly, high-heeled sandals whose straps wrap around my calves.
The front is beautiful, understated. Elegant.
The back is sin—dipping down to the top of my ass, the material teasing, calling for a man’s fingertips there…then to slip beneath.
And that lingerie I bought, the lacy scraps I intended to wear are in my suitcase.
Because I forgot about the cut of the dress, the lay of the material.
This isn’t a dress you wear undergarments with.
No bra straps showing, no underwear lines.
Nope. It’s just me .
Lace will come…later.
I smooth down the fabric, release another shaking breath. Then there’s no point in delaying it.
We have an appointment.
We agreed to do this.
We—
There’s a knock at the door.
“Those feet getting chilly, my tiny tornado?”
I glance down at my pink painted toenails, half expecting them to be covered in ice. But they’re normal, despite the nerves twining through my middle. Another deep breath, another nibble at the corner of my mouth. Then I slam the door on my worry and focus on what’s important.
Making this as good as possible for Aiden.
That thought held tightly to my heart and mind, I reach for the handle and pull open the door.
His gaze locks on mine and I find myself sucking in a breath.
Intense green eyes filled with swirling of emotions that I can barely track—I just know they’re big and fierce and…call to that same wealth of feelings inside me.
Then his gaze slips from mine, slowly traveling down the length of my body. It’s an almost tangible thing, the heat that travels through me as his eyes trace over me—my breasts, my torso, my waist, my hips. My thighs tremble when he reaches my ankles, my shoes and his mouth curves up.
“Like the heels, sweetheart.”
It’s a soft rumble that slides through me, tracing between my legs, flicking over my clit.
I exhale shakily. “Do you like the dress too?”
His mouth curves further.
Then he reaches forward, snagging my hand, drawing it back toward his body the same time as he steps forward, closing the distance between us. “Do you feel that?” he asks, settling it on his cock.
His hard cock.
My fingers tighten and he groans softly.
“You like it,” I murmur.
“Yeah, Luns.” He gently peels my hand free, presses a kiss to my palm. “I like it.” A beat. “Too fucking much.”
I lift on tiptoe, brush my lips over his. “There’s no such thing.”
“It is if I drag you over to the bed, strip you naked, and show you how much I like the dress and heels.”
Heat blooms through my middle, shoots out through my limbs.
“Don’t look like that, tiny tornado.”
“Like what?”
“Like you want me to do just that.”
“I do,” I say, giggling softly when he groans. Then, just because I’m a glutton for punishment and maybe also because I really really like it that he wants me so badly and isn’t shy about showing it, I lift on tiptoe again and murmur in his ear, “I’m not wearing any underwear.”
He groans again, hands clamping onto my hips, my name on his lips. “Behave,” he mutters a moment later. “Until later,” he adds, bending and stealing a kiss that leaves me breathless.
When I come back down to earth, he’s staring at my breasts and I realize my nipples are beaded, pressing against the thin material.
“No underwear,” he says approvingly.
And…I laugh.
Because I’m no longer worried or upset or feeling lonely.
And maybe also because, God , I really like this man.
Especially when he takes my hand, starts drawing us to the door. “Let’s go get married, my tiny tornado.”
“And now, by the power vested in me by the State of Nevada, I now pronounce you husband and wife…”
My lungs spasm.
My fingers tighten around Aiden’s.
My eyes lock onto his, the emotions inside me reflected in the emerald depths of his gaze.
Because this moment is big, important, beautiful?—
At least until Elvis says, “You may kiss your hunka, hunka burning love.”
Then my lips twitch and I know that Aiden is feeling the same curl of amusement as I am.
Hunka, hunka burning love? Ha. That’s so perfectly Vegas, it’s not even funny.
Or it is. Whatever. Frankly, with all the big emotions I’ve been feeling, I’m just thankful for the humor, for Aiden to be choking back laughter too while standing across the altar from me.
Reciting the vows to love and cherish, in sickness and in health, till death do us part was intense.
Real.
Especially while staring into those emerald eyes of his, seeing that he was feeling the words just as deeply as I was.
This is usually an ending, the happily ever after for couples.
But, for Aiden and me, it feels like the beginning.
And that feels…important, heavy, serious.
Elvis telling me to kiss my hunka, hunka burning love?
Not so much.
Elvis clears his throat and smiling, I close the distance between Aiden’s and my bodies, pressing myself against his front, feeling the hard length of his body, the strong embrace of his arms. I’m surrounded by the spicy scent of him, am lost in all the sensations of the boy I loved, the man I’m learning… and yet still somehow know.
Which is why it feels like the most natural thing in the word to lean up and kiss him.
Elvis and all his rhinestones disappear.
The music and the witnesses we hired fade to the background.
I’m not feeling the slight chill in the air, the pinch of my shoes.
I’m not worried that I’m taking advantage of Aiden, that I’m going to mess up his life, that we’re somehow going to have to explain this to his family…and deal with the fallout of mine.
It’s just Aiden and me.
And this one beautiful moment.
That feels like a beginning.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20 (Reading here)
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42