Page 56 of Wild Card (Men of Action #4)

TALON

“Oh my God.” Willow’s head drops back and my lips skim along the column of her throat.

My hands grip her hips as I ram up into her over and over. Her thighs tremble and core muscles tighten, sucking my cock deeper.

“Your pussy is fucking made for me.”

“Yes,” she wisps.

“Give me another one.”

“It’s too much.”

I slow, giving her a little reprieve and bunching her dress to see where we’re connected. She rocks, bringing her face back to mine.

Her face is flushed, lips swollen, and small pink marks from my stubble mar her jawline.

My willpower wanes, wanting to mark her further.

“Love this dress, baby, but when we get home, I’m burning it.”

Her eyes flare with defiance. “You are not burning my dress.”

“Warned Cruz and Ember not to put you in this.”

“I chose it.”

“Every fucker in that room was eyeing you, watching your moves, thinking of ways to fuck you.”

“You’re absurd.”

“Watched three guys adjust their dicks when you pranced across the dance floor.”

“I didn’t prance, it’s called dancing.”

“Didn’t like it.”

She braces her hands on my chest and moves steadily, the friction building. “Pretty sure the blood-thirsty growls and fiery eyes proved your point.”

“Not enough.”

She bends in, dropping her lips. “I love you, even when you’re an overly possessive, ridiculously archaic ogre.”

“Changed my mind. No need to burn the dress. I’ll rip it to shreds where there is nothing left.”

I nip her bottom lip and slam up, feeling the metal scrape along her smooth heat.

“God, that feels good.”

“Ride me, baby. Give me the image of you on my dick to get me through the rest of this night.”

She moves in rhythm with my thrusts. Her warm breath hitches when my thumb circles her clit, teasing until she’s panting.

Savage hunger rages inside, needing to hear her come apart, screaming my name.

“Look at me.”

Her green eyes rise, filled with lust, desire, and love. They penetrate into me, rooting so deep my control snaps. I tighten my grip on her waist, holding her to me as I flick her clit and drive relentlessly upward.

She fists at my shirt, moaning and then convulsing. I cover her mouth, swallowing her screams as I explode with her.

Sweat trickles down my neck and back, my vision spotting with each pulse of my dick.

She whimpers, tearing away and tucking her face into my neck.

Her breathing settles and she kisses along the underside of my jaw. “Another thing I can cross off my bucket list. Wedding sex.”

“You made a bucket list?”

“Not officially.”

“What else have you crossed off?” I run my hands along her bare back, another reminder of why this dress will never make it in public again.

“Wall sex, hospital office sex, pool sex, and bonus points are wedding sex at a public winery.”

“Sounds more like a fuck list.”

Her hand curls around my neck, urging me to tilt and face her. Her eyes glow in a shade of green that’s a mixture of amusement and satisfaction. “It’s a mental tally that keeps getting better and better. It has more than sex.”

“Graduating top of your class, becoming a doctor on there?”

“Those were goals. This is different. It started when I met you. It also includes falling madly in love, understanding true commitment, allowing myself to imagine a future.”

“You don’t need to imagine it, baby, it’s happening.”

“I believe you, honey.” She peers at me with so much trust, I want to hold her forever, protecting her from ever feeling unworthy again.

My phone vibrates in my chest pocket and she pulls it out, a little sigh escaping. “Our absence has been noticed.”

“Don’t fucking care.”

She wiggles off my dick, glancing around. “Where did you throw my panties?”

“Are you referring to the scrap of material held together by string?”

“They aren’t that skimpy.”

I raise an eyebrow.

She stands, giggling. “Okay, they may be risqué, but not much would go under this dress.”

“Which is why it’s getting destroyed.” I reluctantly hand her the piece of lace.

I rearrange my pants and stand, taking her hand.

She leans into me as I lead us back to the reception.

“I need to pop in here.” She releases my hold and points to the restroom.

“Why?”

Her eyes widen. “Are you seriously questioning me about using the bathroom? Do I need to explain how gravity works? You may like me being full of you, but it’s not very comfortable right now.”

Before I can argue, she pushes me gently and disappears behind the door.

When she returns, I beat back the urge to haul her straight to my truck.

“Don’t even think about it,” she warns.

“What?”

“Whatever you’re thinking. I can see it in your eyes.”

“Not apologizing for wanting to take you home. We’ve been doing this wedding shit for two days.”

“It’s my first time as a bridesmaid. I’m not bailing early.”

Two bodies flash by us with a high-pitched squawk. Addie and Carson take hold of Willow’s arms, yanking her away.

“Rowan’s stalled as long as possible. It’s time.”

“Time for what?”

“Bouquet toss,” they answer in unison.

She freezes, wrenching them to a halt. “I’m not going out there.”

“Yes, you are. We all know it’s between you and Shayla who’s next. Addie and I have our money on you,” Carson rationalizes hurriedly.

“You have money on me?”

“There’s a pool going and we’re set to win five hundred dollars. Get your ass out there and fight for that bouquet.”

“I’ll give you five hundred dollars! I’m not fighting anyone, especially in this dress.”

Willow glares at me in terror, her eyes pleading with me to help.

I shake my head, throwing her words back to her. “Your first time as a bridesmaid, you should get all the traditional experiences.”

She scowls, opening her mouth, but they drag her away, leaving me to follow.

I circle the room, stopping at the bar. My dad joins me, giving me a once-over with a smirk. “You get lost?”

“Lost?”

“Been gone for a while. Figured you got lost somewhere.”

“Yeah, it’s a big place. Got turned around a few times.”

He chuckles. “Stick with that story when you see your mom. She’s been on the hunt for you and Willow.”

“Got it.” I take a sip and grin into my glass at the scene on the edge of the dance floor.

Addie and Carson aren’t letting up, with Willow visibly arguing and trying to pull Bex in as a shield.

“Anything you want to share with me?”

I glance over and my instincts perk at the change in his expression. He’s not probing into my disappearing act or the fact I stole Willow away for sex. He’s all business.

“Want to be more specific?”

“Jim, Pete, Doug, Rich, and I have been talking.”

I realize all the dads are gathered close. “Talking about what?”

“We know something is up.”

“Something is always up.”

“You want to play coy? Been down this road more than a few times over the years, not to mention my own time in the ranks.” Jim, Major’s dad, eyes me sharply. “Max Roberts is missing.”

“He is.” I give the room a once-over passively.

Major and Ace are with our buddies from MARSOC watching the show on the dance floor as Willow continues to protest. Harley and Jewls now flank her to keep her from running.

“The signs aren’t hard to miss, Talon. Tell me you men aren’t wading into whatever this is.”

The concern in my dad’s tone is distinctive. Worry etched on his features matches the other men.

Guilt claws at my insides, knowing the shit we’ve put our families through with our careers. The years of sleepless nights during our deployments, the fear every time the phone rang or doorbell chimed, the dads taking the brunt of the moms’ breakdowns.

I throw back the rest of my bourbon, making a decision.

“I can’t tell you what I don’t know.”

Dad’s eyes narrow and the others shift.

“Tomorrow, we’ll talk. Tonight is a celebration for Ford. Nothing is fucking that up.”

They all look like they want to argue, then nod their agreement.

A loud cheer goes up as Declan and Blake jump on the stage. They grab guitars and start the chords of a familiar tune… Is that Beyoncè?

The women have successfully lodged Willow front and center. Ford leads Rowan to the dance floor, turning her from the waiting crowd of women. His arms circle her waist, his mouth at her ear as he twists her back and forth.

His eyes catch mine, understanding bright.

I jerk my chin in confirmation.

Willow hates being in the spotlight, and she may kill me for this, but she’ll get over it.

Ford whispers something, Rowan rears back, and the bouquet flies through the air.

It’s almost slow motion as Harley and Jewls nudge Willow forward and the flowers land in her barely outstretched hands.

Addie and Carson dance in a circle, fist-bumping their victory.

All the single guys huddle, Drake and Sam front and center.

Suckers.

Ford doesn’t wait for a chair. He squats to his knees, lifting Rowan’s leg and sliding her garter off.

“That’s my queue.” I hand my glass to my dad and waltz to the center of the dance floor, plucking the material from Ford’s hand.

“You have to be shitting me!” Drake complains loudly.

“Did you ever think there was a chance of anyone else getting this?” I whip the garter around my finger then crook it for Willow to join me.

She’s beet red, her eyes wide and mouth parted.

The music changes and the whole band has joined Declan and Blake on the stage.

Willow walks slowly, her blush deepening when I haul her to me.

“Did you plan this?”

“Even I can’t control the trajectory of flowers.”

She grins. “Something tells me it’s another of your superpowers.”

I sway her around the dance floor, aware of the eyes on us. “You give me too much credit. But there was no way any other man in this room was getting to dance with you.”

A squeak escapes before she presses her lips together in an adorable way.

“Love that sound, Princess.”

“You’re crazy.”

“I haven’t hidden that.”

Her laughter fills the space and I catch the approval of Sterling, Rosie, and Lynden watching us. My gaze drifts to Stacy standing close, her stare locked on Sterling’s profile.

“It hurts to see her agony,” Willow says softly.

“Who?”