Wright Kind of Trouble, page 3
He was stopped from answering by the end of the song. He slowly lowered me into an impressive dip, my long hair trailing behind me on the hardwood floor. Our eyes locked, and for a second, I could imagine what it would be like to have his lips on mine. To see exactly where this song and dance were leading.
Then, he righted me as effortlessly as the dip had started, and we broke apart as the music shifted into a rendition of the Electric Slide.
He slid a hand through his hair, glancing sideways, as if debating on what to do. “It’s a little…crowded,” he finally said. “Do you want to go for a walk?”
I nodded, finally realizing how many people were staring at us. “Yes.”
He grabbed my hand again, and then we were avoiding the bridal party and stepping through a side door, out into the cool spring evening air. Away from the wedding, I felt free. No more eyes on us. Just me and him and a clear night sky.
He hadn’t released my hand, and we strolled down the stone path that led out to the vineyards.
“Are you going to tell me about your scar? Since it’s such a big secret,” I teased.
He ran a finger over it. “I suppose it’s not much of a secret,” he admitted. “Usually, when people ask about it, I make up some outrageous story. Like I was mauled by a bear or got it while saving someone’s life.”
I laughed. “And the real story is?”
“I flipped my kayak when I was in middle school and hit a rock. I had to get a ton of stitches. Bled like a bitch. Had the worst fear of water for years after that.”
“I like the real story,” I said, replacing his finger with my own. “It’s a battle wound. I have one of those.”
When we reached the vineyards, I lifted my skirt at the hem until it was nearly to my hip. There was a knotted scar that had made me hate bikinis all through high school until I decided that was bullshit and I should be proud of it.
“What happened?” Chase dropped onto his heels to get a better look at the scar.
He ran a finger over the skin, and I shivered. When he looked up at me, I had to bite down my desire at the sight of him on his knees before me.
“Ice skating crash.” I swallowed at his inspection, heat pooling in all the right places with him so close. “Someone ran into me, the ice went out from under my blades, and…” I clapped my hands together to indicate the crash.
“Shit,” he said.
But he hadn’t stood up. His hand slid around to the back of my thigh. His face level with my pussy. His eyes examining the lightning-strike scar.
His gaze skirted up to mine. A silent question on his lips. Permission.
I stood there in deep-seated need at the feel of his fingers digging into my thigh and the mirrored look caught in his irises. What was I doing? I’d only known him for a matter of hours. And here he was, on his knees in front of me, and I’d thrown out the entire rule book in his presence. I was a sex-positive type of girl. I always encouraged my girlfriends to have all the fun they wanted. You’re only young once! But there was giving advice and taking advice.
Was I insane for wanting this? For nodding and giving him the green light?
Permission granted.
His lips quirked upward, and then they were on my scar. His tongue darting out and tracing the line of my hip, where ice had carved a hole out of my skin.
A soft exhale escaped my lips. Not quite a moan, but fuck, if he’d kissed me anywhere else, I might have come undone right then and there.
His eyes were on mine again as he pulled back. I wasn’t sure if I was happy that he hadn’t taken more or glad that he hadn’t pushed his luck. Because I was pretty sure he was right; luck was on his side tonight.
4
Chase
Well, I was fucking done for.
I’d known that I wanted her before she lifted her skirt up and shown me the scar on her hip. Now, I was certain that I wanted little more than to drive her home right this second. It had been years since I’d been this attracted to someone immediately. Actually, maybe it had never happened. There was a spark here that I couldn’t name or apparently deny.
As I’d just put my lips on her with nothing more than a nod of agreement. I could barely control my cock straining against my suit pants.
Her eyes were glazed when I came to my feet. I wanted to push my hands up into her hair and claim her lips. No part of me wanted to wait. I hadn’t been able to keep from kissing her hip and caressing her thigh. Would I have found her wet if I’d slid up higher?
Fuck.
Fuuuck.
“I…I…” She stammered over her words as she dropped her skirt. “I don’t think anyone has ever looked that close at my scar.”
I wouldn’t mind getting an even closer look, if I was honest. But I had so many questions for this siren who had wrapped a fist around my heart.
“Well, you offered the perfect view.”
She ducked her head and then met my gaze again. “Don’t know what compelled me.”
“I know that feeling,” I admitted.
She swallowed, and something passed between us—a zing of connection that I’d felt the moment our eyes locked at the ceremony. As if neither of us could stop this runaway train now that it was off the tracks.
But I could see that she didn’t know what to do with this connection any more than I did. I wanted to go fast, fast, fast, but I didn’t want to scare her.
“Do you still skate?” I asked to bring the subject back around.
She nodded. “Pretty sure it only made me more relentless.”
“I get that. In college, I took up kayaking again to get over my fear. I figured the only way out was through.”
“Exactly,” she said, gesturing emphatically. “The ice couldn’t break me.”
“Yes. My friends thought I was nuts, but I still kayak now. I love it. I take my dog, Bowie, out to Buffalo Springs Lake a lot.”
She blinked. “Bowie? Like David Bowie?”
“Yeah. He’s my favorite artist,” I said apologetically. “I know it’s dated, but…”
“You’re joking,” she gasped, nearly falling over herself.
“Uh, no?” I said hesitantly.
I never met people who understood the musical merits of David Bowie. He’d raised a generation. He’d been the sexual awakening of men and women alike. He was an icon. I would never accept Bowie slander.
“I was literally just listening to ‘Ziggy Stardust’ in the car.”
My face went skeptical. “No, you weren’t.”
“At full blast, mind you. As it is the only way to listen to Bowie.”
“I have the records at my house. They sound insane on the Bose stereo system.”
“I am dying,” she gasped. “I need that in my life. My mom sold all of her records from her roadie days, and I’m eternally sad about it.”
“Your mom was a roadie?” I asked with a laugh.
“Oh my God, yes. It’s hilarious. There’re all these pictures of her touring with bands and stuff. It’s why West got into music in the first place. And where I got my good taste in music. You can only grow up listening to so much Bowie, Mötley Crüe, Guns N’ Roses, and the like before you end up with it them as your faves.”
“Yeah, I get that. I’m close with my mom, too. She was addicted to REO Speedwagon, Styx, and Journey when I was growing up. I’d go to concerts with her when my dad was out of town. It was our thing.”
“Oh man, I’d kill to go. Mom got all her concerts in during her youth and said she doesn’t have eardrums for it anymore.” She rolled her eyes. “She’s also like, If I’m not front row in a mosh pit, is it even worth it?”
I cracked up. “Your mom sounds awesome.”
She beamed. “She is. I definitely didn’t get this way from my dickhole dad.”
“Yeah. Feel that. My dad is…not much of a peach either.”
The space between us narrowed again. Who the hell was this girl? Why hadn’t she existed in my life before this moment?
I’d started this because we’d had a moment at the wedding and continued when I found out she was Jordan’s little sister. But somehow, it had gone beyond that. She was as relentless in her pursuit of things she enjoyed. She loved the same music as me. We had similar family dynamics. And beyond all of that, I felt like I could relax with her. Like I didn’t have to second-guess every move the way I had in the past.
Everything felt simple. Effortless.
And I decided to go with the flow. I wanted this. And I didn’t want to wait another minute.
I moved into her space, pushing my hand into her hair, tilting her head up to look at me. She inhaled sharply, her lips parting slightly.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you since the our eyes first locked.”
Her smile turned Cheshire. “You’ve already kissed me.”
I tugged her even closer, until our chests were pressed together and I could feel the wild beat of her heart. I dipped my head until our lips nearly touched. Our breath mingling in the space.
“Then, I want to taste your lips.”
“Please,” she whispered.
The plea on her lips did nothing but make me want her even more earnestly.
There was a pause in the universe as we hung suspended. Her eyes fluttering closed and her exhale of anticipation. The tightening of her hands into the lapels of my suit. The light of the moon illuminating her features. Like an ethereal being on the cusp of giving up her immortality for a taste of desire.
My lips bridged the small gap that remained between us. Our mouths fit together, soft and pillowy. She tasted of the cherry aftereffects of her wine. I would never think of cherries again without the thought of this moment.
She gasped against me as my tongue brushed against her, tender and inviting. Her chest heaved and pressed tighter into me. I tilted her up even more so I could dive ever deeper. I wanted to drown in her.
“Oh,” she whispered.
We broke apart long enough for her to look up at me with bedroom eyes. As if she’d had a revelation.
I grinned. “Oh?”
“Is that what that’s supposed to feel like?”
“You haven’t seen anything yet,” I told her with all sincerity.
And then we both went under.
Our kiss flipped like a light switch.
My hands tangled harder in her hair. Her hands sought for purchase. Our bodies moved against each other, fervent and desperate. The thread between us snapped taut, and what we’d just been navigating since that first look came to a head. Our tongues collided with need. A dance as much as the ballroom one we’d done inside. Now, we were out here in the dry evening air, and I wanted nothing more than to devour her whole.
If we had been anywhere else, I would have pushed for more. Found a quiet place away from the rest of the world, rucked up her skirt, and found all new ways to make her moan. I wanted it with a fire that I hadn’t known existed in me. No one had made me this reckless in my entire life. And, fuck, I was hard enough that I was considering it.
We broke apart then with chest-heaving gasps and wide eyes.
“We should…get out of here.”
She touched her lips like I’d burned her. “Yes,” she whispered.
I took her hand in mine and brought it to my lips. Her eyes tracked my mouth as I pressed kisses into her knuckles.
“I drove. You could…come home with me.”
There was no hesitancy in her expression. She’d felt exactly what I had.
“Okay.”
“Yeah?”
She nodded. Then, she blinked, as if returning to the world. “Oh, wait. No. No, I can’t go.”
My heart lurched at the quick rejection. “Oh.”
“No, I want to,” she said immediately. “I just…I agreed to be the designated driver for my brothers. So, I have to drive them home.”
“Ah, I see. That is responsible of you.”
“Yeah.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “Sort of regretting it now.”
I laughed. “It’s all right.”
“Maybe we could meet up tomorrow,” she offered hopefully.
“I was going to go kayaking with Bowie tomorrow. You could come.”
“Yes,” she said, nodding along. “I would love to do that. Here, give me your number, and we can make plans.”
She offered me her phone, and I added my details. I passed the phone back to her, and she tugged me in close, snapping a picture of us in the moonlight. It was blurry, but she was looking up at me with adoration in her eyes.
“There, now, you have my number.”
I pulled my phone out and saw the picture and laughed. “Good. And our picture.”
“A memory of our night.”
“I don’t want the night to be over,” I said, tugging her in for another kiss.
She sighed into me. “Me either. But kayaking tomorrow for sure.”
I cursed the Wrights for stealing the rest of my night as we headed back up to the wedding. It was easy to blame them for everything at this point. At least we had plans for the next day. Maybe that was for the better. Then, she would see that I didn’t just want sex from her. I didn’t just want sex. Because the way we’d collided in the vineyard made it perfectly clear that I wanted to ravage her all night long.
I let her go in without me since I was still indecent. I needed to calm down before I could reenter the party. That was when I realized…I didn’t need to go back.
I’d shown up for my oldest friend.
I’d found something inexplicably better.
The door was closed. I was ready to put it firmly behind me. I’d said my congratulations to Annie already anyway. There was nothing left to say. Time to move on.
So, I walked around the outside of the barn and toward the parking lot. The wedding planner was ushering people around to get them in place for the grand exit. People would probably still party for another hour, but Annie and Jordan were leaving. Another thing I didn’t need to say farewell to.
I caught Harley standing with one of her twin brothers, the one in Converse and not a suit—I couldn’t otherwise tell them apart. Our eyes locked again, and she shot me a bold smile. I smiled back. Her brother put his hand on her shoulder to stop her, which was my cue to get out of here.
Once I got to my Porsche a few minutes later, I leaned back against the hood. I could see sparklers lighting up the barn. The grand exit had begun. Yet I wasn’t thinking about Annie at all. I was wondering if the vivid blonde was having a good time. If she was wishing she were here with me right now, the way I wanted her to be. Was I an idiot for wanting to text her right now and ask to hang out after she dropped off her brothers?
I glanced down at my phone, ignoring Ashleigh’s barrage of texts, and pulled up the photo of Harley and me from the vineyard.
Fuck it.
No second-guessing.
I had another thought…let’s meet after?
After a few minutes with it on Delivered, but not Read, I sighed and stuffed my phone back into my pocket. She probably wasn’t even leaving yet.
I palmed the key to my car, deciding to call it a night, when a figure appeared out of the darkness.
Her eyes lit up. “This is your car?”
I glanced down at the outrageous sports car I’d purchased when I opened my own law firm here in town. “Yes.”
She laughed. “Of course it is.” She gestured to the Kia next to it. “This is mine.”
“Where are your brothers?”
Her grin widened as she stepped between my legs. My hands dropped to her hips.
“They are going home with their dates,” she told me. “I’m off the hook.”
“So, you’re free?”
“I’m all yours.”
5
Harley
I couldn’t believe I was doing this.
I’d had every opportunity to walk away, but I hadn’t taken them. Hadn’t wanted to take them. I wanted to go home with Chase. I’d regret it forever if I didn’t see where this was going.
Not that my brothers would see it that way. Well, they didn’t know what had happened out in the vineyards. I certainly wasn’t going to tell them.
Thankfully, Whitt had left with Eve while I was out. He was more overbearing about that sort of thing. But West had noticed that we’d both disappeared. He’d grabbed me before I left and told me not to even think about it. I’d laughed and told him I was going home. He was going home with Nora. Why should he care?
Of course, I’d thought that I was going home when I said that.
I hadn’t expected to find Chase sitting on the shiny red Porsche my brothers had been drooling over. Somehow, in the full parking lot, we’d ended up right next to each other. It felt as serendipitous as the rest of the evening. I’d had no choice.
That didn’t mean I wasn’t a little nervous. Even though we’d clicked immediately. There hadn’t been a single moment of nerves when we were together.
This was out of character for me.
I’d dated people in high school. Obviously, I wasn’t a virgin. Since that was a concept that I didn’t even believe in. It was a culture morality norm that had been forced upon us. Nothing changed when we had sex. No way was I going to act like I was losing anything. Fuck that.
But…the guys I’d been interested in were always West’s and Whitt’s friends. Guys who were years older than me.
When I’d been seventeen, it was fine for me to be into the twenty-three-year-old guys who hung out with my brothers of the same age. But none of them had ever acted on it.
And it was impossible for me, after all that time with older guys, to look at the guys my age and not see dumb, drooling Neanderthals. Boys my age were unsupervised toddlers. I couldn’t deal with any of their stupidity.
Chase was nothing like those guys.
He was fun and funny. He had good taste in music. A fucking insane car. He wasn’t afraid to ask for what he wanted. Even when I’d had to reject him, he hadn’t been all butthurt, like guys my age. He’d just asked for more time. Time I wanted to give to him. Time I wanted to use to see where this was going.
