Baiting the Maid of Honor (6 page)

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Authors: Tessa Bailey

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Military, #series, #cop, #bad boy, #entangled publishing, #Brazen, #line of duty, #erotic, #kristen ashley, #unfixable, #Contemporary Romance

BOOK: Baiting the Maid of Honor
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the ladder. Reed sprang forward, but she caught herself in time and answered on the third ring. He

slumped back against the door with a slowly released breath.

“Yes, Mother. Still in Colorado. I’ll be here for the week, remember? Kady is getting m—” She

paused and he watched her shoulders slump a little. “No, I…I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were

counting on me to drive you to the church tonight… Yes, I’m aware Serena always made time to take

you.” The lights fell to the ground from Julie’s suddenly lifeless fingers and Reed frowned. He didn’t

like the tone her voice had taken on. It bothered him much more than it should. He resisted the urge to

pull her down off the ladder and shake her until she smiled. A thought unlike him in every way. He

wanted only one thing from her mouth, and it definitely wasn’t a smile.

Head tipping back, Julie sighed. “You’re right, Mother. Serena was one of a kind. Not everyone

can be that perfect. Myself included.”

When Julie hung up, she stood stock-still on the ladder for several long moments. Reed couldn’t

take her deflated posture anymore and cleared his throat into the silence, moving toward her in case

she startled. She turned abruptly, blue eyes wide and damp, but didn’t fall. All at once, her chin went

up and her mouth flattened in warning. He watched her process the fact that he’d overheard the call,

not allowing himself to feel the creeping regret when her cheeks flamed and she averted her eyes,

looking embarrassed.

Once again, the pit in his stomach widened. He wanted the girl from last night back. The one who’d

threatened to cut off his balls. The one who’d kissed him with unleashed enthusiasm, legs wrapped

around his hips like a steel vise. And damn it, for some unnamed reason he wanted to help her save

face. If anyone knew about parents piling shit on the heads of their children, it was him. There was

only one way to take away the hurt: replace it with something else. A hot Southern temper would do

nicely.

“I can see your light-pink panties from down here, pixie girl. You waiting for me to reach up and

sneak them off?” He made a hungry sound in his throat, circling the ladder without removing his gaze

from between her legs. “From this angle, I could learn all your secrets. Come on, let’s see that sweet

spot you’re hiding. Show me where my mouth will go to drive you fucking crazy.”


Julie’s breath felt trapped in her lungs. Every inch of her skin flamed hot, like it had been licked with

fire. All remnants of frustration from her mother’s phone call seeped from her body as Reed launched

his verbal attack from below. His gaze felt like a tangible thing. She felt it brush between her thighs

as though he’d used his hand instead of hooded hazel eyes. When she recognized her desire to part her

thighs even farther so he could look his fill, she sucked in a breath and descended from the ladder

angrily. How dare he listen in on her phone call, then address her as though she hadn’t already turned

down his advances once and for all? Regardless of the fact that she’d spent a restless night in her

massive hotel bed, imagining what would have happened if she’d actually stayed in Reed’s room, he

had no right being here now, discussing her lady parts like they were the soup of the day.

“Now you listen to me and you listen well,
Mister
Lawson.” She got right up in his face and pushed

a finger into the center of his chest. When his mouth twitched at one end it only made her angrier. “If

your mama didn’t see fit to teach you basic manners, that’s none of my concern, but that racket isn’t

welcome around here.” She took back her finger and smoothed a hand down her skirt. “I assure you,

my sweet spot will remain a secret to you, no matter what rolls off your tongue.”

“Is that a fact?”

“Set in stone.”

“Come closer, then.” He crooked his finger at her. “Let me talk in your ear for a while and we’ll

see if you can keep your secrets, pixie.”

“Stop calling me that. It’s ridiculous and unfitting,” she huffed, amazed at how much she wanted to

take him up on his offer. Oh, God, she wanted to feel the way she had last night. So bad. But it would

be a cold day in hell before she gave in to his arrogant demands. Honestly, he acted as if her

acquiescence was a foregone conclusion. Women must not turn him down very often. Why the thought

only served to rile her temper, Julie didn’t care to explore. “I’m not interested. Keep your hands and

thoughts to yourself.”

She could practically hear his jaw grinding. “How can I help you hang those lights if I keep my

hands to myself?”

“I don’t recall asking for your help.”

“You’re getting it anyway.”

“When was the last time someone told you
no
, Mr. Lawson?”


Reed
.” He scooped the lights off the floor and handed her one end. “And I don’t recall.”

Julie took the end he offered and climbed the ladder once more. When his attention dropped to her

legs, she arched her eyebrow and indicated the opposite end of the room where more lights waited to

be hung. After a moment when he looked to be debating whether or not to follow her instructions, he

went with a sigh.

“How did you get stuck doing this?” he muttered, fishing through a wooden crate.

“Stuck?” She frowned. “I love doing this.”

“Jesus. What the hell for?”

Julie opened her mouth to reply, then realized no one had ever asked her that question. She’d

always been a planner, an idea girl. But until her sister’s death four years ago, the planning had only

been for fun events. Now, it applied to everything. Her parents, especially her mother, had taken

Serena’s death hard and she’d been required to step up. Not only event planning for her father’s

company, but helping her parents run their estate. Everything Serena had done so well. This kind of

planning? This was pure pleasure, even if the strain of making everything perfect got to her from time

to time.

After giving it careful thought, she answered slowly. “I suppose I like seeing people enjoy

themselves, knowing I had a little something to do with it. Mood, lighting, and ambiance can make or

break a party. Kady is a good friend and she deserves the best. That’s why.”

Reed made a noise in his throat.

“I don’t expect you to understand.”

“I understand the last part. Maybe.” He scowled at a curly pink ribbon that had attached itself to the

end of his hammer. “But don’t you think we’d have an equally good time tipping back a few cold

ones? Throwing a few hot dogs on the grill?”

“Maybe you haven’t had a chance to read your wedding itinerary thoroughly yet, but we
do
, in fact,

have an outdoor soiree planned—”

“The word ‘soiree’ has no place near a grill.”

Julie pushed a tack into the wall using a little too much force and bent it. “No one is forcing you to

go. I’m certainly not going to take attendance.” She turned with a hand perched on her hip. “If you hate

this wedding business so much, why did you show up? I’m sure you could have made some excuse to

blow it off.”

Reed’s expression remained impassive. “I might not decorate or plan sunset cocktail parties, but I

show up for my friends and lend my support.” Julie felt herself soften toward him. Just a little. Then

he went and mucked it right up. “I figure when a man is willing to pledge himself to a woman for all

eternity, he needs as much support as he can damn well get.”

“It’s a good thing you’re not the best man.” She leaned back to study the placement of the lights.

“You’d be about as useless as an ashtray on a motorbike.”

She thought she heard him chuckle behind her, then decided it was her imagination. “Sorority girls,

huh? Let me guess. You were the relentlessly cheerful one in the group. The do-gooder who forced

everyone out of bed, hungover on a Sunday morning, to go perform charity work.”

Julie refused to face him when she answered, certain the fact that he’d come uncomfortably close to

the truth would show. “Which place of honor did you hold among your friends? Were you the one

who pilfered the
Hustler
magazine for all the boys to ogle?”

“Who told you about that?”

“Lucky guess.”

Reed made a sound that suggested he didn’t believe her. “Anyway, it was a
Penthouse
. July issue.”

Julie laughed in surprise, then cut herself off. Her animated laugh had always caused people to look

at her strangely. She’d once been told by her Sunday school teacher that she laughed loudly enough to

distract Jesus from performing miracles. The gravest of sins, according to the older woman. As a

child, she’d taken it to heart and tried to tone down her enthusiastic bursts of amusement, but they

often caught her off guard. She cast a look over her shoulder and found Reed watching her with an

odd expression on his face.
Great. Something else for him to hold over my head.

She pinned an arrangement of flowers over where she’d placed the tack and searched for something

to fill the sudden silence. “
Penthouse
, huh? Didn’t they sell good old-fashioned
Playboy
in

Manchester?”

“Sure they did. But a man has to decide what he likes and stick with it.”

“And you’re one of those men?”

“You already know the answer to that.”

Not having heard him move across the room, she felt a jolt of shock when his big hands gripped the

backs of her knees. Without warning, heat speared through her and pooled in her belly, tightening

every muscle below her waist. Involuntarily, her eyelids fluttered closed and her breathing

accelerated. No sound could be heard in the room beyond her pounding heart. It all happened in under

five seconds. Rapid, coursing need. How did this man accomplish what no one else ever had?

“W-what are you doing?”

“I need to get to the bottom of something.” His thumbs began to massage small circles against her

skin and she felt an answering tug in her nipples. “You knew it was me in the dark last night. I need

you to admit it, pixie. For my sanity.”

Julie said nothing. Tossing and turning in her empty bed last night, she’d admitted as much to

herself, but she loathed telling him the truth. Giving him the satisfaction of knowing how easily he

could manipulate her body. His ego was big enough. “You’re wrong.”

He growled. “I’m right.”

“We’ve got ourselves a stalemate.” How she managed words was beyond her. Knowing Reed

stood behind her, eye level with her bottom, hands wrapped around her legs, did funny things to her

brain. “What do we do now?”

“I guess we find out how much higher you want my hands.”

Breath escaped her in a rush. “How do we find that out?”

“By being honest.”

She started to respond when one hand slipped higher and began kneading the inside of her thigh,

just inches from her center, where she’d started to throb painfully in time with his hands. He kept it up

for long moments, his big hand working her fevered flesh until she’d started to pant, chest shuddering

with each breath. “I have been honest.”

His hand stopped moving and she just barely swallowed a whimper of protest. “You see how this

is going to work? When you lie, I stop making you feel good.” He kneaded her once. “I know you like

that. You’re giving off so much heat, you’re going to burn my hand.” She felt his lips at the back of her

knee, planting a kiss. “Let’s start simple. Do you like what I’m doing right now?”

Julie recognized the moment of truth presenting itself. Did she like it? To say so would be an

understatement. She felt like she might burst into flames. His hand, so skilled and capable, sat on her

leg unmoving and she wanted to scream at him to keep going. He wanted her to admit she liked it first.

Wanted her to admit she’d shamelessly begged him for more of his rough treatment last night in the

darkness. Something she’d never done in her life. Especially with a man like Reed. Dark,

dangerous…interested in only one thing. Never had a man treated her with anything less than respect.

Reed, on the other hand, didn’t give a damn about her recognizable last name. Where she came from.

Whose names sat on the branches of her family tree.

He wanted to take her to bed. Plain and simple. She had no experience with men like him. Men who

took what they wanted and damn the consequences. He represented the unknown, something terrifying

for a routine-oriented girl like her. Until now, all her partners had been met through acquaintances

after being thoroughly vetted. Or she met them at church on Sunday like most God-fearing Southern

girls. She was on her own here. No one to guide her or warn her about the dangers of getting involved

with a bad boy. If she wanted this, she could take it. It could be the adventure she’d been secretly

wanting for so long. Her chance to cut loose.

But what came after?

“I asked you a question. Do you like the way I’m touching you?”

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