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SARA

“ W e’re here!”

I’m swilling the last of my champagne when Eve makes the announcement. As I lower my glass, I sway in my seat. It’s mostly from our limo lurching to a stop, but Eve shoots Camille a bemused look.

“You okay?” Camille plucks the empty flute from my hand and gives it to one of her sisters. The pregnant one—Courtney or Caitlynn or Clara or whichever one volunteered as our sober chaperone.

And before you go thinking my muddling the names is a sign that I’m smashed, I swear that’s not it. My friend has a fuck-ton of sisters.

“Fuck-ton.” I hiccup, then giggle. “You ever wonder how much a fuck-ton weighs? Like, do you measure in pounds or stones or kilograms? And is a fuck-ton less than a shitload?”

Okay, maybe I’m a little tipsy.

But not so drunk that I miss the knowing smiles my pals exchange. Eve and Camille spent my bachelorette party watching over me like tipsy mother hens, which is kinda their thing.

“Trent’s already here.” Camille tips her head toward the walkway leading to his Airbnb. “Ash says they dropped off your groom forty minutes ago and Trent’s very excited to see you.”

“And I’m reeeeeallly excited to see him.

” I hiccup again, which turns into a fresh round of giggles.

It’s been a few weeks since I’ve seen the long-distance love of my life, and I’m giddy to greet him tonight.

“Naked, I mean. Did you know I get to see his penis for the first time in just—” I pause to count out the days and hours until our wedding.

“Soon,” I declare, abandoning the math to smooth out my hair.

A shower of glitter rains down on my lap and I giggle again.

“I bet it’s huge. Trent’s penis, I mean.” I lower my voice in case the other women in this limo aren’t as enlightened as Eve and Camille. “I know I’m supposed to be all meek and scared and hoping my first time doesn’t hurt, but you want to know a secret?”

Eve tucks a shock of hair behind my ear. “What’s that?”

“I want him to fuck me so hard that I feel it for days.” Whoops, that came out louder than I meant it to. Camille’s sister snickers, along with my cousin and a bridesmaid I’ve known since church camp in third grade.

But I’m serious. “I’ve waited sooooo long to have sex with Trent.” With anyone, really. Purity culture is big in my family. “Just because I’m a virgin doesn’t mean I don’t want to get grabbed by the hair and pounded into the headboard until I see stars.”

Camille laughs and hands me a bottle of water “Good plan. You should make a pledge to yourself that you’ll always tell Trent exactly what you want.”

“Okay.” Twisting the cap off the water, I gulp half of it down.

“I’m serious,” she says as I finish the bottle. “Being able to articulate what you want from a partner is really important.”

“I understand.” And I tend to listen to my sex therapist friend when it comes to stuff like this.

“Come on,” Eve says. “We’ll walk you to the door. ”

“I’m okay.” Grabbing my purse, I try to crawl over Camille. “Maybe I’ll try one of those tips from the sex guide you gave me. That thing where I greet him naked at the door?”

“Um, sweetie?” Eve grabs my hips to hold me in the limo while Camille gets out ahead of me. “I think that’s only for when you’re on the other side of the door.”

“Right.” I unhook my bra and wriggle it out through the sleeve of my dress as Eve helps me exit the limo. I hand her the offending undergarment, along with the sparkly bride sash I’ve worn all night. “I’m good, I swear.”

“You’re adorable.” Camille puts an arm around me. “Let’s go, girl.”

The door of the rental cottage swings open, and Oh. My. God .

Trent stands in the doorway, shirtless and rippling with muscle. My mouth goes dry at the sight of my groom, who gives me a smile that could melt off my panties. I mean, I’m not technically wearing panties, since I ditched them in the bathroom of the last bar we hit.

What? It’s easier to pee without underpants. Efficiency, baby.

“I’ve got her.” Trent strides down the walk and loops a big arm around my waist. “Hi, honey.”

“Hi.” God, he smells good.

From inside the limo, I hear gasps and some whispers.

That’s him?

So hot!

He’s a Navy SEAL.

Trent ignores them, smiling down into my eyes. “You had fun?”

“So much fun.” I hiccup, then giggle. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Smoothing some flyaway hair from my face, he nods to my friends. “Thanks for keeping her safe. And for showing her a good time.”

The order of those two priorities pings something in my brain, but it’s gone in a gin-soaked instant. I turn to my friends and give them a wobbly wave.

“Bye, guys! Thanks for the fun night.”

“You, too.” There’s a chorus of cheers and a jumble of voices wishing me good night and good luck and good tidings for tearing off Trent’s clothes with my teeth.

That last one might be just in my head.

“Hey, Sar.” Trent holds me close as he guides me inside and eases me onto the sofa. “Got you a big glass of water right there and a couple Advil.”

“But my head doesn’t hurt.” I toss them back anyway, since Trent has more experience with this sorta thing.

The affection in his smile makes my chest feel full of melted butter. “And now it won’t hurt tomorrow.” He sits down beside me and pulls my bare feet onto his lap. My shoes must have vanished somewhere between the limo and the couch, but I don’t care about that right now.

I groan as his thumbs stroke my instep, sending bright sparks of desire up my legs. They zing through my bare thighs to the space right between them, and since I’m not wearing panties?—

“Hey!” I sling myself over his lap, coming to rest with a knee on each side of his hips. Pressing my forehead to his, I watch his familiar gold eyes flash with intrigue. “Where’d your shirt go?”

“Someone spilled beer on it.” He smiles and slides his hands down my back. “Where’d your shoes go?”

“Dunno.” With a devilish grin, I wiggle on his lap. “Same place my panties went, maybe?”

His eyes go molten as he squeezes my ass. “Are you trying to tempt me?”

“Maybe.” I wiggle again. “Is it working?”

“Maybe.” He drags out the word so it feels like a feathery caress.

His hands on my ass make me bold, so I wiggle my hips again. “Did you have fun at your bachelor party? ”

“I did. Ash took us whisky tasting.” He chuckles. “My SEAL buddies paid him back by taking us to that divey vegan strip club.”

“The one where the guy got stabbed?” You know it’s Portland when you have to specify which vegan strip club.

“That’s the one.” He kisses me softly; once on the cheekbone, once on the tip of my nose.

But that’s not the kissing I crave now. Finding his lips, I fuse us together, teasing his tongue with my own. Groaning, he tightens his grip on my ass. I’m rolling my hips, grinding against him like we’re fucking through clothing.

Dry humping’s kinda our thing, since we’ve pledged to save sex for our wedding night.

But something feels different tonight. Maybe it’s the commanding squeeze of his hands on my ass.

Maybe it’s my lack of panties. Things heat up in a hurry as our kissing turns hungry and a little bit feral.

His tongue stroking mine feels fierce and masterful and I groan as I grind down against him.

I’m probably soaking the front of his pants, but this feels too good to stop.

What would it feel like to slide Trent inside me?

To give in to these urges and finally have him for real.

Trent comes up for air, golden eyes hazed with a look I can’t read. “We should stop.” His oversized thumb skims the blade of my cheekbone. “I don’t want to, but we should stop.”

Licking my lips, I grind myself onto him. He’s hard as a rock and I’m aching to sink him inside me. “Maybe we shouldn’t stop.”

Those golden eyes widen but Trent doesn’t speak. I kiss him again, harder this time, as one of his hands glides up my side. When he gets to the edge of my breast, he lets out a low, strangled moan.

“Jesus, Sara.” He drags in a ragged breath. “You’re braless, too?”

“Yep.”

His big palm cups me over the top of my dress and he whispers a low, reverent curse. Testing the weight of my breast in his palm, he looks like he’s worshiping something. “So fucking sweet.”

Not that sweet.

I feel reckless and eager and aching for something I’ve never felt before. “We should have sex.”

Trent blinks, then blows out a breath of his own. “You’re drunk.”

“Not that drunk.” I kiss down the column of his neck, dragging my teeth to the spot on his shoulder that drives him wild. His skin is on fire, filling my senses with heat and desire. “Come on, baby.” I’m not ashamed to beg. “We’re so close to our wedding and we’ve waited this long?—”

“And we can wait just a little longer.” His fingertips tease at the edge of my breast. “I don’t want either of us to have regrets.”

My only regret will be not feeling Trent slide into me soon. Tonight, this minute , not in four weeks.

Right fucking now.

But if I say that out loud, it’ll only convince him I’m drunk.

“How about this?” I kiss my way back to one rounded bicep, still riding the hard, solid shaft in his pants. “We sign the marriage license right here, tonight.”

A low groan from Trent is his only response, which I take as a good sign. That, and the pad of his thumb caressing my nipple through my dress.

I keep going. “Your buddy—the one who’s a military chaplain?” I happen to know he’s in town for Trent’s bachelor party. “We ask him to marry us in a real ceremony tonight. We could get a couple neighbors to be witnesses and?—”

“God, baby.” Squeezing my breast, he breathes into the hollow of my throat. “If you don’t quit grinding on me like that, I’m gonna come in my pants.”