Baiting the Maid of Honor (16 page)

could barely think over the buzzing in his ears. The realization that he’d never called her by her name

made him fucking crazy. It hit too close to home, a painful reminder of his past. He had to make it

right, immediately. She deserved more.

Reed laid her down on the bed, pushing deep,
deep
, until she shook underneath him. “Julie,” he

whispered in her ear. Savoring her moan, he took her knees in his hands and pushed them wide. He

wanted to shout at the goddamn perfection of her. Jesus, she’d been formed just for him. Was such a

thing even possible? Then he slid out of her, thrusting back in slowly, forcing himself to take his time.

Go slow and let himself savor her. He worked his pelvis in a hot, deliberately slow bump-and-grind,

delivering pressure and friction to her sweet spot. “
Julie
.” Reed took her hands in his and pinned

them over her head, driving into her at an accelerating pace. He couldn’t help it with the way she

continued to tighten around him. She arched her back and moaned, pink-tipped breasts jutting toward

him, begging for a lick. He found an angle with his hips that made her fingernails dig into his

restraining hands, felt her start to lose control. As she reached her peak, he drew on her nipples. The

sounds of his sucking combined with her throaty cries of his name to push him over the edge.

When he came, he buried his face in her neck and chanted her name. Over and over in her ear.

Chapter Thirteen

Julie woke with a jolt when her cell phone buzzed on the table beside the bed. Realizing in shock that

night had long-since fallen and she’d been out of contact for hours, she tried to sit up but couldn’t. An

arm around her middle kept her pinned to the bed. It seemed the shocks were far from over. Reed lay

beside her, illuminated by the muted television, flickering shadows lighting his broad, muscular chest

and stubborn face. Even in sleep he looked obstinate, Julie mused, unable to stop her smile. It

vanished almost immediately. What did she think she was doing?

Their afternoon-turned-evening together played through her mind in a series of blatantly erotic

images. The things he’d done to her. Things she’d wanted him to do. Begged him to do. He’d brought

something to life in her. Something that had perhaps always been there, but no one had ever made her

want to embrace. Prior to meeting Reed, she would have scoffed at the very idea of being ordered

around by a man in the bedroom. She would have thought it made a woman soft. Weak. Yet she’d felt

the complete opposite of weak. She’d felt powerful. Desirable. Hadn’t wanted it to end.

This man has the ability to turn you inside out.

The harsh thought came unbidden to her mind, smacking of absolute truth. Reed could barely stand

to be touched in a nonsexual way, didn’t have an affectionate bone in his body. He dominated. Wrung

pleasure out of her ruthlessly. But that didn’t equate to caring for her. She needed to remember that.

They were a temporary fling. They would both go back to Atlanta, to their very different lives, and

possibly never cross paths again, being that they ran in such vastly different circles. To his credit,

he’d told her he didn’t do romance. Not that it had been necessary for him to put into words what was

already so obvious. She didn’t
want
romance from him, either. Right? Waking up next to him,

however, seeing him in the vulnerable state of sleep, feeling his warm body wrapped protectively

around hers…it didn’t exactly inspire her to keep a rational, level head about his intentions.

Like it or not, what they’d done together required a certain level of trust. Allowing him to dominate

her, hold her down, punish her, had created a tenuous bond between them in her mind. A fact that

terrified her, because it would inevitably be severed at some point. By him. Her. Their differences.

She didn’t know. Only that it would happen.

Knowing she needed to get up, attend to her responsibilities, Julie took one last opportunity to look

him over. Commit him to memory. After all, who knew how long this would continue? That first night,

Regan had described him as tall, dark, and dangerous. The description certainly fit, but much more

lurked under his rough, damaged exterior. He harbored pain and insecurities, same as everyone else.

Only she suspected his wounds ran much deeper. They’d been inflicted by others he should have been

able to trust, giving him ample reason to keep people at a distance. Sure, losing Serena had been a

great tragedy in her life, but their childhood had been storybook perfect. A million miles away from

bar fights and tattoos of naked mermaids.

“What are you thinking about?”

His sleep-roughened voice made her jump. She scrambled to recover her wits under his watchful

gaze. A gaze that suggested Reed, too, was surprised to find himself asleep in her bed. “I was, uh…

thinking maybe I’d get a tattoo. Something real bad, like a dragon eating a shark. Both of them on fire.

And maybe the grim reaper standing in the background, for good measure. What do you think?”

“Anyone marks your skin, I put them in a world of hurt. That’s what I think.”

Julie tucked some stray hair behind her ear, trying to ignore the wave of fierce pleasure in her

chest. His possessive attitude should bother her, confuse her. After all, why did he care what became

of her once they parted ways? But she couldn’t deny liking it. Craving more. “It was a joke. You

always wake up this cranky?”

“You call this cranky?”

“What would you call it?”

“Honest.”

Julie shook her head at him, still trying to gauge his mood. Taking a chance, she ran a finger along

the scar at his hip, relieved when he didn’t flinch under the tender touch. “Another bar fight?”

“No.” He was silent a moment, tracking her movements closely. “Came by that one at home.”

Her finger stilled, but apart from that, she showed zero reaction, afraid an ounce of pity on her face

would cause him to shut down. “Your daddy do this to you?”

“I never called him that, but yes. With a broken Budweiser bottle.”

She swallowed around the knot in her throat. “How old were you?”

“Twelve.”

Julie’s nature demanded she throw herself across his chest and wail to the heavens, but somehow

she managed to keep her riotous emotions in check. While she’d been attending summer camp and

hosting family barbecues, he’d been leading a pitiful existence. It made her sad. It horrified her. And

it ticked her off good.

“How are you holding up down there, pixie? You look like you don’t know whether to scream or

break something.”

“How would you feel about both?”

He shrugged his big shoulders. “It’s your room.”

She blew out a quick breath. “Do you want to tell me more?”

Brow furrowed, Reed glanced away. “Do you want to…know more?”

“Yes,” Julie answered, before she could second-guess herself. Even knowing it wasn’t wise. The

more she learned about Reed, the more she understood him. Saw past his defenses. She was making it

infinitely harder on herself by learning about the man beneath, but simply couldn’t help it. At that

moment, lying together in the dark, barriers didn’t exist between them. She rested her head on the

pillow and waited.

Reed didn’t speak for a full minute. “I didn’t call him daddy. I didn’t call him anything, really.
Him
,

I suppose.
You
. Never really used my name either, took to calling me
boy
after my mother passed.”

He tore his gaze away from her. “He took her in for a chemo treatment one afternoon. Next morning,

she was just gone.” Staring into space, he ran an absent hand through his hair. “About a week later, I

came across Colton and Brock at the lake. I’d spent the night in Colton’s boat—a few nights, actually.

He didn’t mention it, just asked if I wanted to go fishing.”

Julie’s throat felt closed; her eyes burned, nose tingled. She buried her face in the pillow as the

image of a world-weary little boy belonging for the first time swam in her head. She wanted to go

back in time and weep all over that little boy. Make him a sandwich. Clean him up. That very boy had

grown into a man who carried around the damage, but she couldn’t comfort the man. He wouldn’t let

her. She tried to hide her distress, but it escaped in a watery sob. “Did you catch anything?”

Laughter rumbled in his chest. “Couple of catfish.”

She wailed even harder.

“Ah, Jesus. Come over here.” Reed propped himself against the headboard and pulled her onto his

lap, tucking her head under his chin. She was too upset to be surprised. “Go ahead and say it.”

“Bless your little
hearts
.”

He sighed. “There it is.”

“Reed?”

“Huh, baby?”

“Your daddy not calling you by your name? It’s not the same thing as you not calling me Julie. It

just isn’t. Don’t you go thinking about it one second more.”

…

Reed couldn’t speak for a long moment as he looked down at the weeping blonde who’d all but

wrapped herself around his middle.
Exactly where she belongs
. He liked having her there. Loved it,

actually. It felt vital. Necessary. Like if someone tried to pull her off of him, they would drag part of

him away with her. And fuck, for the first time in his life, he was scared shitless.

“All right, Julie,” he rasped into her hair, not knowing what else to say. Afraid if he opened his

mouth, something would come out to send her away. Or keep her close. Either option unnerved him.

He’d woken up to the best feeling of his life, his girl tucked into his chest where he could keep her

safe. His first thought had been her name.
Julie
. The next had been,
what the hell is wrong with you?

He’d known going in that their relationship could only be temporary. Hell, temporary was all he did.

More than one night with a woman was usually a stretch for him.

That feeling. That heavy dread when she’d run away from him that first night. The possessiveness

he’d felt when she set her sights on Golden Boy. He should have known then. After spending a

handful of minutes with her, he’d already been infatuated. Now that he knew her, had witnessed her

compassion, knew the reasons behind her faults, he couldn’t walk away. It was simply too late. If

someone tried to take her away, God help them. He would fight them tooth and nail.

At the same time, however, he feared disaster. She’d devoted her life to making other people

happy. He didn’t give a flying shit about anyone else’s feelings…save hers. He had a darkness inside

him that could eclipse her goodness so easily. He pictured himself at Sunday dinner, breaking bread

with her richer-than-sin family, and nearly laughed out loud. They would be horrified at their

daughter’s choice in men. That’s if she chose him at all.

Panic threatened. He needed to consider the possibility that she still intended to walk away at the

end of the week, free and clear of him. Why wouldn’t she? He couldn’t offer her a damn thing. All he

had to barter with was himself. Julie could do better. She probably had wealthy men breaking down

her door, if not for her sweet disposition and bombshell looks alone, then the security and

connections her family provided. He had a decent savings account, more than comfortable for a man

in his early thirties, but his sparse one-bedroom apartment in downtown Atlanta left a lot to be

desired. Her future was bright. He would only dim it. He should walk away now and let it unfold the

way it was supposed to. Let Julie have her emotionally undamaged husband and two blond babies.

Over his dead, lifeless body. Reed pulled her tighter against his chest, grunting his pleasure when

she clung tighter, making him feel invincible.

“We need to talk, pixie—”

Her phone buzzed on the side table, startling her. She reached for it with a gasp. “Twenty missed

calls. And…oh my Lord, it’s almost four in the morning. I had no idea.”

“Whatever it is can wait until daylight.”

Reed cursed when she ignored him and answered the phone. “Mrs. Anderson, well aren’t you a

night owl? Or is it an early bird? What did you need, sweetheart?” Her eyebrows rose. “A wake-up

call at eight? Have you contacted the—” She nodded through a long pause. “Oh, you
did
request one

with the front desk, too…well, you are one hundred and fifty percent right, Mrs. Anderson. You can’t

be too careful. Don’t want to put all your eggs in one basket. One of them is bound to break. You get

your beauty rest, now. Kiss Mr. Anderson for me if he’s still awake, bless his heart. Good night,

now.”

Her hand shook as she disconnected and frantically began taking notes while listening to her voice

mail messages. Reed frowned. He knew she liked to be efficient, but something about her reaction

seemed off.

“Hey.” He reached over and tried to pry the phone out of her hand. “
Julie
.”

She looked right through him. “Yes?”