May the Best Man Win (11 page)

And oh God, it was good. She was so sensitive from the weeks of thinking—obsessing—over everything Jase had done to her.

“I-I've been thinking about you,” she admitted, angling her head to give him more access to her neck.

“Bet that torqued you off,” he said, the jab sounding more playful than antagonistic.

She laughed quietly, melting back into Jase so her bottom met the hard ridge of his erection. Nice. Even more so when he pressed into her from behind as he petted her through the fabric of her skirt in front.

It was too much.

“Jase,” she whispered, her hips moving with the rhythm he'd established.

“Tell me you want this.” His voice was gravel rough, as low as she'd ever heard it. “Tell me you can't wait either.”

The answer would have been yes to both. But coupled with that last telling word,
either
, her need skyrocketed toward critical.

Eyes closed, she turned her face toward his. Felt the hot wash of his breath beneath her jaw, over her cheek. And then he was kissing her, his mouth devouring hers as he guided her to the low vanity where Sally had applied the last touches of her makeup and whispered the name Sally Santos like it was a prayer.

They shouldn't be there. They shouldn't be anywhere near a spot touched by so many tender moments. The beginning of so many lives together.

But then Jase was pressing her hands into the top of the counter, meeting her eyes in the mirror as he gathered her skirt until he had it above her waist. Until she could see the bare skin of her thighs and the coffee and cream of her panties.

Reaching between her legs, he slid the silk and lace garment down her thighs until it fell around her feet. She stepped out of it and, at Jase's gentle urging, widened her stance. His fingers brushed over the swollen, too-sensitive folds of her sex, making her moan and tremble from that grazing touch alone.

And then he was pushing inside her.

“
Oh God.
”

One finger, deep and deeper. Hitting her just right. A second, stretching her as his palm cupped and rubbed against her.

“I can feel how close you are, Emily.”

The sound of his voice rumbling against her ear pushed her even closer.

His teeth closed in a gentle clasp on the lobe of her ear, as he stroked once more across that needy little bundle of nerves no one had ever found but him and—

His free hand closed over her mouth as her moans turned to cries of the most telling variety. She couldn't stop, couldn't do anything but ride out the pleasure Jase had given her until it was done.

And then Jase released her, leaving her to support herself where she'd planted her palms on the vanity and stood staring at her breathless, wanton reflection.

Who was this woman?

She didn't know, but she most definitely recognized the hard-jawed, steely-eyed man behind her. Jase looked like every fantasy she'd ever had mixed with all the ones she'd never dared to dream about.

His eyes were blazing with need, raking down her reflection as he rolled on a condom. And then he was lined up behind her, their gazes still locked in the mirror.

A muscle jumped repeatedly in his jaw, and then he was pushing inside her. Sliding in with one deep, earth-shattering stroke that seemed to push the breath straight from her lungs.

“Fucking beautiful,” he bit out from behind her, his thick fingers flexing against her hips, his throat moving up and down.

She felt beautiful. Sexy.

And when his focus switched from her eyes to where he was thrusting inside her, the heat of that visual pushed her past any state of arousal she'd ever been in before.

Her body pulsed around his thrusts.
Closer.

She watched in fascination as the strain built in his features, as his need escalated with her own. She wanted to push him harder, take him further. Make him lose control the way she couldn't seem to stop doing around him.

Arching her spine, she rocked back into his next thrust, earning the satisfaction of his eyes snapping up to meet hers in the reflection.

“Emily,” he ground out as if in warning, but of what she couldn't imagine. Again she arched, pushing back into him as he thrust deep and hard into her.

“More,” she panted, wanting to see him come undone. Wanting to be the reason why.

Heck. Maybe she wanted to ruin him for all other women the way he'd ruined her.

The nod he gave her was tight and strained, a visual that made her clench in need.

And then he was giving her what she'd asked for. Pounding into her hard and deep, again and again. Filling her so completely that she could barely find room for a breath.

Faster, he hammered into her over-sensitized flesh. Then he pulled her up against him, her back to his front, and buried his face in the crook of her neck, as he quaked through his release within her.

It was hot like she hadn't known existed. And that was before he reached between her legs and gently squeezed while he was still pulsing within her.

Starbursts filled her vision as she bucked, coming from that single touch. Because he was just that freaking good.

After, Jase took care of the rubber by tying a knot in it, wrapping it in a tissue, and tucking it in his pocket. Emily had found her way into the chair where the brides sat and watched, intrigued by his every action.

In awe of his mad skills.

Not caring a lick if he'd well and truly ruined her for everyone else. Forever.

She was pretty sure today would get her through the next few years. At the least.

Or she had been until Jase leaned back into the vanity and, crossing his arms, looked her over like he was thinking about what he wanted to do with her next.

And yeah, just like that, she was ready to go.

“Em,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Stop staring at me like that, or we aren't going to get out of here at all. And something tells me it's just a matter of time before they miss us enough to come looking.”

Emily was the worst bridesmaid in the history of bridesmaids.

She'd had sex. And not just straight, horizontal, quick, and clean sex.

It had been legitimately dirty.

Dirty like a girl like her never saw.

From behind, in front of a mirror, literally feet away from more than fifty guests. Even if Jase had pushed the thumb lock on the door, they'd been in a house of God when she'd cried his name.

So shady.

And then Jase had straightened her skirt, tucked her panties into his tux pocket, and pushed a few strands of hair back into place before giving her a light swat on the rear on her way out, murmuring “Think fast” as she walked back into the belly of the beast. A beast that had thinned out considerably, leaving her with just a few stragglers in the church entry.

“There you are,” Peg said on an exasperated sigh, slipping back in the front doors with Leslie on her heels.

Emily put her hands up, pasting on her most unfazed smile. “Sorry, I thought I'd left my purse.”

Leslie raised a brow. “Already out in the car with Harold.”

Offering the requisite noises of relief, Emily headed out to the waiting car for the trip to the restaurant—looking back only once and finding Jase's eyes on her when she did. He was smiling. It wasn't like the smile of a cat who'd gotten into the cream either. Some telling grin that would have everyone speculating what had put that look on his face. It was subtle, quiet. It was…nice.

It was a smile like she hadn't seen from him since high school, and the sight of it threw her off more than everything else that had happened between them. Had her looking back more than once. A concern she couldn't exactly name building inside of her.

The bridesmaids rode out to the restaurant together, Peg and Leslie chatting about the groomsmen who'd gotten away. Club Bromance seemed to be getting the bulk of the conversation. Mostly Max and Brody, which was odd because Jase was clearly the front-runner in looks and size. Not that she was going to point that out to them.

But then Peg did mention Jase, barely getting his name out before her voice cut off into an awkward silence that pulled Emily's attention from the snow-covered fields and gray-washed sky back into the car. To where Leslie was giving Sally's little sister a meaningful look.

“What?” Emily asked, heat pushing into her cheeks before they even had a chance to answer.
They knew.

“Okay, so we get that you don't want to admit it, but it's totally obvious there's something going on with you and Jase,” Peg said in a matter-of-fact tone. “To most everyone, anyway.”

Emily's lips parted, her protest perched on her tongue. And then she softened back into her seat. “I don't know what's going on with Jase. But it's nothing serious. That much I can assure you.”

When they pulled up to the restaurant, Mrs. Willson was standing by the front door with a few ladies wearing pinched faces to match her own, still harping on Sally's failed wedding attempt from the previous month. “But what did they think would happen with a December date—”

Emily breezed past with a polite smile, relieved for Sally that all the anxiety this day had brought would finally be behind her. The important parts—where she and Romeo had exchanged their vows and sealed them with a kiss—those she would hold on to forever. The rest didn't matter.

The location wasn't as glamorous as the hotel ballroom Sally had been dreaming about from the time she was a girl. It wasn't as cool as the location Emily and Jase had picked together. But it was intimate. And it was all theirs for the night.

Stopping at the coatroom, Emily felt her spine begin to tingle in what was becoming a familiar way. She glanced over her shoulder as two large hands reached around her to help her with her coat. Jase. Watching her with a look on his face that wasn't antagonizing in the least. It was warm, rather than hot. His knuckles briefly smoothed down the lengths of her arms, and then he was reaching past her to hand her coat to the check clerk.

“Thank you,” Emily murmured, suddenly feeling shy. Like she didn't know exactly where she stood with this man anymore.

His hand settled at the small of her back, spreading more of the warm heat and tingles, as he led her into the reception.

“We need to talk, Em,” he said, guiding her through several clusters of guests on their way to the wedding party's table.

“I know.” What happened between them had been…well, nothing short of the total ruination she'd been promised. But still, now that it had happened twice?

Jase held her chair for her and then dropped into the seat to her right. Because of course they were seated together.

Pushing his chair back for more room, Jase leaned forward, resting his forearms over his legs and making a mesh of his fingers where they hung between. “I wasn't planning what happened after the wedding.”

She raised a brow at him, and he looked away with that gruff laugh that made everyone wish they were in on the joke. She had to admit, it felt pretty good that she was this time.

When he looked back, it was with a devastating mix of amusement and heat in his eyes. “Okay, I wasn't planning it before I saw you.”

“And then?” she asked, keeping her body language as casual and unobvious as she could, considering Jase had just owned up to plotting to get her alone after the ceremony.

His jaw shifted out of line. “Fishing? Em, a girl like you?”

She felt her own smile slipping free, and Jase's eyes locking on it.

“
And then
,” he added, “I saw you. And I knew I'd be lying to myself to think that once was going to be enough.”

Her belly was doing that fluttering thing again, the beating of her heart feeling heavier with every beat.

“But twice will?” She really was fishing then, but she needed to know.

Jase sat back, that too-sexy grin going full tilt. “You tell me.”

“I think it needs to be,” she said. “Nothing's changed between us, Jase.”

“Hiya, Jase,” one of Romeo's brothers called from somewhere behind her. “Stop working the bridesmaid and come do a shot to celebrate.”

Emily rolled her eyes and then cast him a sidelong glance. “Your people await.”

Jase nodded and pushed up from his chair. Still holding her eyes, he brushed his thumb across the corner of her mouth. “I wouldn't say nothing's changed, Em.”

And then he was gone, the hoots and bromantic exclamations ensuring the lost one had been safely returned to the fold. Emily sat, her fingertips tracing the spot where he'd touched her. The upturned corner of her mouth.

* * *

“So, you and Emily?” Brody asked over the brim of his bourbon, eyes glittering with amusement.

Jase shoved a hand through his hair, scanning the reception in progress. Dinner was over, and a small dance floor had been set up where a DJ was playing a selection of Sally and Romeo's favorite songs.

“Don't go there.”

“No?” Another savoring sip of his drink. “After you all but lifted your leg, marking her as your territory tonight? And funny thing, but back at the church, I could have sworn—”

Jase locked him with his most lethal glare. The one he used to pull out during face-offs back in his college hockey days.

Sadly, he'd known Brody long enough to realize the guy wasn't intimidated by the usual fare. Still, he got the message and let the rest of his statement drop. Almost.

“I thought so.”

Jackass.

“You don't know what you're talking about with this marking thing.”

“Right.” Brody nodded. “You weren't helping her out of her coat like you were unwrapping the biggest present under your tree. And the fact that you've had your hands on her, in one way or another, pretty much since she walked in the door…no one would read into that. Or how about the way you put your arm around the back of her chair while you leaned in and whispered into her ear all through dinner? Or that dance with the wedding party when you nearly threw an elbow into Romeo's brother before he could ask her?”

Jase pulled at his suddenly too-tight collar. Because… Fine, maybe he had done all that.

Then Brody really stuck it to him. “Definitely nothing suggestive about the fact that when you aren't within touching distance, you can't seem to take your eyes off her for more than a second. Jase, man, you're watching her right now.”

He was. But so was every other chump in the place.

How the hell could they stop when she was laughing like that, with her eyes closed, her head half back, and the long slender column of her neck just begging for a mouth to cover it.

To tease that spot that made her beg. To suck and—

Jase was out of his seat before he realized what he was doing. Crossing the floor until he was close enough to lean in behind her, whispering low in her ear before he passed. “Three times. And then we'll be done.”

She was still stammering, a hot flush burning through her cheeks, as he headed over to Sally's dad.

* * *

Emily lay staring at her hotel room ceiling, her breath still not returned after… She turned her head on her pillow to look at Jase's profile. “Was that three times or four?”

“Four.” His skin was dotted with sweat, his cheeks darkened from exertion. His mouth curved into a satisfied grin. “Why? Trying to figure out how many notches to carve into the bedpost?”

“For Facebook,” she replied, as deadpan as she had in her.

Deadpan enough, because Jase coughed, pushing abruptly up to his elbows. But then he must have seen her face, seen the amusement in her eyes, because suddenly he rolled on top of her, caught her weakened arms above her head, and growled down at her, that smile still tempting her to lick it.

“Got you,” she murmured, completely at his mercy.

His eyes darkened, and he lowered his mouth to hers, murmuring “Guess you did” just before contact.

* * *

Jase stepped out of the steamy bathroom to find Emily propped against the headboard, the hotel robe she'd wrapped up in making a loose vee that revealed more of her beautiful body than it covered.

The sound of explosions emanated from the TV, alternating with her bouts of laughter.

“
Guardians of the Galaxy
,” she said with a wave toward the screen.

He'd been thinking about leaving after the shower. Half expecting those Cold War walls to be back up between them, but seeing Emily still looking so soft and sexy and accessible… Hell, he was in the bed, tucking her against his chest before he had a chance to think about why he shouldn't.

And then they were laughing together, sinking lower into the bed as the movie progressed. Emily confessed to a deep and abiding love of Chris Pratt that had begun when she'd seen some picture of him posing suggestively with the Washington Monument, while Jase owned up to being a hard-core Groot groupie—just so he could see one of those smiles she had for everyone else finally break
for him
.

It should have been weird, the two of them together like that. Sure they'd had sex a number of times. He'd had her on the bed twice, on the bathroom counter, and in the shower, but this…this hanging out
snuggling
wasn't something they did together. And yet, he couldn't stop gathering her closer, wrapping his arms around her so her back and his front were in perfect alignment and he could rest his cheek against the soft waves of her hair.

The credits started to roll, and Jase knew better than to think there'd be another movie. More cuddling. It was already after three a.m.

Emily shifted within the hold of his arms and peered up at him. “Last time?” she asked, her words stroking over him as effectively as a hand, while also making something deep in his chest thump to life.

“And then what?” he asked, pulling her over him so she was straddling the place where he'd gone hard for her already.

“And then we sleep,” she said quietly, almost shyly. “And tomorrow we put this behind us.”

This was the part where he said yes. Where he grasped her generous offer of another round with both hands and thanked his lucky stars for the easy out that came attached. Because what more could he ask for, really?

“That's what you want?” he asked instead. His fingers curved around her hips to hold her in place as he rocked into her from beneath.

Her breath hissed out, her eyes going hazy above him.

He didn't know what he was expecting. A pause, a confusion-filled look. Hesitance?

Whatever, it wasn't what he got. “Yes. Jase, as much fun as this has been, you're the kind of bad habit I can't afford. This isn't going anywhere. Neither of us would ever think it could. And while I'm not actually looking for Mr. Right, making a habit of playing with Mr. Wrong can't be a good idea.”

She was right, of course. Which was why he shut down that quiet voice asking questions about another shot, tamping it down deep and burying it beneath a heap of sensual intent.