Bedding Down, A Collection of Winter Erotica (2 page)

destroyed her belief in “happily ever after.” Not that she de-

served a fairy-tale ending, she told herself bitterly. She had seen what infidelity did to her parents’ marriage and then managed

to break every rule she believed in anyway.

She looked at her sister, so wide-eyed and hopeful that mar-

riage would provide the stability their dysfunctional childhood never had. She ruffled Liz’s auburn hair the way she had a thousand times during those difficult years after their father had

run off with his mistress and their mother had left Minerva to

follow her newly divorced boyfriend to New York. Susannah

couldn’t fault Liz for trying to find her own happiness, she just didn’t believe in the possibility for herself.

“I’ll do whatever you need me to do,” she told her sister.

“It’ll be all right. You’ll see.”

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Nothing would be all right until she was out of Minerva and

back in Seattle, but Susannah nodded anyway. “Of course it

will.”

“Good. Now we’d better get changed. The florist is supposed

to be delivering the flowers to the inn by five,” Liz said. “You should see them; they’re all white, of course, with greenery and ebony ribbons.”

Still talking, Liz floated out of the dressing room on a cloud

of satin and hope. Susannah shook her head, but she couldn’t

help but smile. She’d never been like Liz, so head-over-heels

in love with the idea of love. Of course, she’d had a little help in coming to terms with reality. Having their father abandon

the family for his mistress, then seeing her mother become “the other woman” in a scandalous relationship that made her abandon her daughters, had taught Susannah a few things about love

and marriage. She cursed under her breath as she tried to free

herself from the satin ties that laced up the back of the dress.

“Liz?” she called. “I need help.”

The dressing room door squeaked behind her just when she

thought she’d have to sleep in the damned gown.

“Help me get undressed, will you?” Her arms were twisted

behind her in a futile attempt to free herself from the knots

she’d made attempting to untie the laces. “I need to get out of this dress
now.”

“My pleasure,” said a deep and achingly familiar voice.

Susannah turned slowly, catching a glimpse of his profile in

the three-way mirror, and her first thought was that he hadn’t

changed a bit. That thought fled when she faced the real deal.

He looked older. More . . . masculine. His shoulders looked

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broader and his jaw seemed harder, but it was more than physi-

cal; there was a seriousness in his expression that contradicted the memory she had of a happy-go-lucky player with nothing on

his mind but sex and booze.

“Maybe you didn’t notice, but this is the women’s dressing

area,” she said, managing to keep her voice even. “The men’s

tuxedo shop is on the other side of the store.”

His lips turned up in a faint smile, as if it took too much ef-

fort to turn on the charm. “I thought it was the bride who was

supposed to wear white.”

“Not my idea, believe me.” Turning her back on him, she

returned to her task of untying the laces.

“I could help you with that.”

There was no hint of a come-on in his words and she felt a

twinge of disappointment mixed in with relief. The sooner she

got out of the dress, the sooner she could get away from him.

“Thank you.”

He worked the knots loose, but he wasn’t gentle about it.

She heard a startling rip and was suddenly able to breathe. The relief at being free of the offending garment was countered with dismay.

“Did you have to be so rough?”

“There was a time,” he said, his fingers running up the length

of her spine and making her shiver, “when you liked it rough.”

As if her body was detached from her brain, she found herself

leaning into his touch. She knew she should pull away, demand

he get out and make sure he didn’t touch her for the rest of the weekend, but . . . she couldn’t. Part of it was because she hadn’t been touched like this—slowly, sensually—in longer than she

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cared to remember. The other part was simple: as much as she

loathed him, she had never been able to forget Derrick.

“You not only liked it rough, you begged for it,” he mur-

mured in her ear as he caught her long hair in his hand and gave it a firm tug. “Remember?”

She closed her eyes and gasped at the sensation that ran along

her scalp and made her weak in the knees. “There are some

things I’d rather forget,” she said, hearing the catch in her own voice.

“Not me,” he said. “I remember pulling your hair like this

while I fucked you, so deep inside you I thought I’d died and

gone to heaven and I didn’t give a damn.”

She couldn’t help herself—she whimpered and moved back

against him. His erection was impossible to ignore through the

thin material of her dress. She pressed her ass against him, feeling him hard and hot through the layers of clothing.

He groaned and tugged her hair hard. “A month with you

wasn’t damn near enough.”

His words were like a splash of cold water in her face. She

took a deep breath, reminded herself of why she was here, and

pulled away, ignoring the sting in her scalp when he didn’t re-

lease her hair immediately. She met her gaze in the mirror and, galvanized, turned to face him—and her past.

“Things have changed, Derrick.”

He arched one cocky eyebrow. “Really?”

She raised her left hand, hating herself while also feeling re-

lieved. “I’m the married one this time. I take my vows seriously.”

He laughed in disbelief. “I have a hard time believing that

with the way you whimpered and rubbed against me just now.”

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Despite a flush of embarrassment, she remained firm. “Believe

it.”

He was staring past her, at her reflection in the mirror. “You’d be more convincing if your dress wasn’t unlaced down to your

very sexy ass.”

She fumbled behind her, attempting to hold the fabric to-

gether, which only served to make the bodice of her dress slip.

“Would you please get out of here?”

He opened his mouth as if to speak, then shook his head.

“Whatever you say, Susannah. Just one thing—”

“What?”

He dipped a finger into her cleavage, setting her skin on fire

and causing her to gasp. With a tug of the silky fabric, he pulled her up against him until his erection was pressed at the juncture of her thighs. He stroked the swell of her breasts, rocking his pelvis against her, fucking her through their clothes. He moved his hands lower until his fingers grazed her hard nipples, leaving a trail of heat everywhere he touched her.

She pushed her breasts toward him, nearly out of her mind

with desire and oblivious to the fact that her dress had fallen to her waist. Her eyes fluttered closed so she wouldn’t have to gaze at his hungry expression that she knew mirrored her own. Her

nipples ached to be pinched and tugged, but he wouldn’t give

her the satisfaction she craved; he touched her gently, teasingly.

Her barely controlled arousal flared again and her pulse raced, despite her good intentions. She moaned, and the sound echoed

off the mirrored walls of the dressing room. She wrapped her

fingers around his wrist and held him to her breast, silently

pleading for more.

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“There’s still some unfinished business between us,” he whis-

pered in her ear as he finally gave her what she needed and tugged one nipple insistently. “That rock on your finger isn’t a shield.

I’ll respect your marital status only as long as you do.”

He was gone before she could open her eyes, which was prob-

ably for the best. Her pulse pounded in her ears and she was

slick and wet with desire. If she had been able to utter any response at all, it would have been a plea for him to put her out of her misery and fuck her senseless.

“Too late,” she muttered to herself. “I’m already out of my

mind.”

Chapter 2

Since the lease had run out on Liz’s apartment, she was staying with Brad’s parents until after the wedding. Which meant Susannah was, too. Holding to the old-fashioned tradition hadn’t

surprised Susannah. Liz seemed to believe that if she followed

the rules, she would be happy. Thankfully, the groomsmen

would be staying at Brad’s house. Susannah was still throbbing

hours after Derrick touched her and she didn’t think it was a

good idea to be alone with him again.

“It’s only for two days,” Liz said later that evening when

Susannah tried to make a joke of her concern about getting

through the weekend without causing a scandal. “Surely you can

get along for two days.”

She didn’t tell Liz the truth—she wanted far more than to

“get along” with Derrick and it was the nights she was thinking about, not the days. Instead, she smiled at her earnest younger

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sister and ignored the ache between her thighs. All her good intentions of keeping her distance and getting out of town as fast as possible had fled when she’d felt the proof of his arousal. He still wanted her—as much as she still wanted him. She tried to

tell herself it was only physical, only sex, but it wasn’t a comforting thought.

“Of course we can,” she said. “Your wedding will be perfect

and if that jerk does anything to ruin it, I’ll smack him silly.”

Liz glanced up from the wide, white ribbon she was making

into elaborate bows for the reception tables. “I’m not worried

about him.”

“You think I’m going to do something to ruin your

wedding?”

Liz worried her bottom lip between her teeth. “No, of course

not. I’m just worried that, you know, you haven’t dealt with your emotions where he’s concerned.”

Susannah shook her head, hurt and anger bubbling inside

her. “Come on, Liz, you know me. He caught me off guard,

that’s all.”

She hadn’t told her sister all that had transpired in the dressing room, but Liz had heard enough. Susannah cursed her lack

of control and vowed to make Liz’s wedding day the best it

could be.

“What’s next on the agenda?”

They were squirreled away in Mr. Montgomery’s study for some privacy, a fire roaring in the massive brick fireplace to ward off the cold in the big Colonial house. Brad’s parents had gone to bed an hour ago, but his sisters Kelly and Dana were watching chick flicks in the living room. Susannah suspected Liz didn’t

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really get along with Brad’s family as well as she pretended, but not having a family of her own made her try that much harder.

Brad and Derrick had gone to pick up the two other groomsmen

and were planning to stop by on the way to Brad’s house. Susan-

nah planned to make herself scarce when they did. The farther

she stayed away from Derrick, the better.

Liz paused for a moment, as if she might say something else,

before taking off on a tangent about the flowers and caterer.

Susannah let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.

Liz was all the family she had and she wouldn’t do anything to

jeopardize her sister’s happiness. Derrick Frost wasn’t worth it.

“Susannah, you haven’t heard a word I said.”

She shook herself out of her thoughts. “Sorry, just jet-lagged.

What did you say?”

Liz gestured out the window, where snow swirled across the

broad expanse of lawn. “I said, do you think it’s good luck or

bad luck that it’s still snowing?”

“Rain is good luck, so why not snow?”

Liz shook her head. “It wasn’t good luck for the florist. I can’t believe the flowers won’t be delivered until tomorrow afternoon.

I’m going to be a wreck by Sunday morning.”

“I think it’s fabulous that Mother Nature decided to coordi-

nate her decor with your wedding dress,” Susannah said.

“And yours.”

Susannah wrinkled her nose. “I’m still not sure I should

be seen in white around here. The locals are likely to tar and

feather me.”

“Don’t be silly.” Liz looped ribbon around her fingers and

pulled it through, making an enormous white bow. “That’s all

in the past.”

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“Is it?”

The sound of the front door opening interrupted whatever

Liz might have said. Her face immediately brightened and Su-

sannah felt a twinge of envy so strong it made her heart ache.

What must that feel like, she wondered? The ring on her finger

hadn’t guaranteed that feeling for her.

“Can we take a break?” Liz asked, looking anxiously toward

the closed study door. “I need to talk to Brad and I want to say hello to Marcus and Elliot.”

Susannah waved her away. “Don’t worry about me. I’m not

feeling very social right now anyway. Go be with your man and

his friends. I’ll make bows until sunrise or the ribbon runs out, whichever comes first.”