Bedding the Bachelors Box Set (Books 1-3) (65 page)

Lucy turned to look at Jamie, wondering if he’d noticed, but he was looking straight at her. She saw him turn to his father and mother and excuse himself, then he came over to her. Bending down to talk in her ear, he said, “What do you say we get out of here and take a walk on the beach? Then I can tuck you into bed.”

“Tuck me in, huh?” she whispered.

“Among other things,” he whispered back.

The tingling in the core of her belly told her the night was just beginning.

***

Fifteen minutes later, Jamie and Lucy stood next to the massive bed in their suite. He leaned down until his mouth hovered a few inches from hers. His breath puffed against her lips and she moaned and closed her eyes, wanting nothing more than to feel his crushing kiss. When he kissed her, however, he did it by trailing his lips along the underside of her jaw. She moaned again, this time with an edge of desperation that he couldn’t possibly miss.

His mouth covered hers, skilled and firm. His tongue pierced inside with no hesitation, tangling with hers. She immediately slid her hands up to his shoulders and pulled him against her, relishing the feel of his hard, muscled chest against her aching breasts. Then she sucked on his tongue, even as she imagined another part of her body wrapped tight around another part of his. He groaned, and as he reached down and cupped her ass with rough hands, he pushed his hips into hers. He worked her against him, giving her no choice but to feel the steel-hard length of him.

As if there was anything in the world she wanted more in that moment.

But actually there was. She discovered that when he moved one hand up her ribcage and to her breast, gently engulfing her in his big palm and squeezing. Her eyes closed at how good it felt and she arched her body closer, silently asking him for more. For
something
.

His fingers on her nipples.

His mouth sucking her deep.

Her clothes off…

Her eyes flew open as he quickly unzipped her dress, pushed it off her so that it pooled onto the floor, and then he pulled the cup of her bra down. He flicked her nipple once, twice, before squeezing it between his thumb and forefinger. The heat already coursing through her exploded into an inferno. An intense ache pulsed between her legs, making her feel empty. She ripped her mouth away from his even as she writhed against him. “Please,” she whimpered. “I want your mouth.” Part of her knew she wasn’t making sense; he’d just been kissing her, and she wanted him to kiss her again, but she also wanted his mouth on other parts of her.

“You’ve got my mouth.” He buried his face in her neck, sucking below her ear and then trailing his lips down to the sensitive spot where her neck and shoulder merged. “And my teeth,” he whispered, an instant before he bit down gently on her fragile skin. She lolled her head to the side to give him greater access. His hips ground harder against hers, and for a second she stiffened as a pre-orgasmic ripple hit her. His dick rubbing between her legs, his fingers at her nipple, his mouth at her neck…all were enough to have her close to coming. All she had to do was imagine him shucking his clothes and pumping inside her and…

“No,” he growled. “Not yet.” He pushed her hips against his, forcing her to stop grinding against him, controlling her. Then he removed his fingers from her breast.

Pissed, she struggled against him. “Damn it! Don’t stop. I was so close.”

“You’re going to get even closer, baby. And I’m going to pull you back again. I’m going to make you work for it.”

She let out a strangled cry as he lowered his head and sucked her nipple into his mouth. The warm, firm pressure felt so good she immediately buried her hands in his hair and held him close. “Don’t stop,” she whimpered. “Please, don’t stop.”

He ceased the suctioning action of his mouth and shushed her, but then flicked her nipple repeatedly with his tongue. Each time he did so, she swore she felt a tingle against her clit. She cried out at each sizzling sensation.

Abruptly, he straightened, and though she tried to pull his head back down, he resisted, shaking away her touch. He backed her up against the bedroom wall and reached down to hook his arms under her knees, pulling them up and out so that his hips were cradled between her thighs. The position left her at his complete mercy, pinned against his hardness, unable to move even as he retained the ability to swivel and grind against her, rubbing against the very heart of her until he was slowly driving her out of her mind. He was ratcheting her up again. Pushing her toward release. Was he going to give it to her this time, despite what he’d said before?

She held her breath and concentrated on every pulse of pleasure he was forcing on her. Her body strained and strained and she was almost there…

She screamed when his hips stilled. Pounded on his shoulders. “Damn you! Stop teasing me. I can’t take it!” she yelled.

“Okay, baby,” he said. “I’m sorry. I’ll give it to you, I promise.” He stripped off her bra and panties.

She reached for his pants. She’d only gotten him unbuttoned and unzipped when he flipped her around so that she was standing with her back to him. “What—”

He pulled her hips out and knocked her legs apart. She gasped when he plunged his fingers into her pussy from behind. She choked out a moan as her vaginal muscles clenched around his fingers. He buried his face against her neck again and whispered into her ear, “I’m going to fuck you like this first. Make you come. Then when you’re limp with your release, I’m going to carry you to bed, flip you around, and make you come again while you look into my eyes.”

She closed her eyes and nodded. Sensed movement behind her, heard the crinkling of foil as he sheathed himself in order to protect her, then felt the hard, broad tip of him nudging against her folds. She bit her lip, then cried out when he buried several inches of his hard shaft into her. She immediately clenched around him, making him groan. He kissed her shoulder. “That feels so damn good. Can you take more of me, baby?”

“Yes.”

He gave her more, pushing into her steadily and without mercy, until he was buried balls-deep inside her. Against the wall, she banged her fists. She felt so full. Barely able to contain him. He covered her hands with his and entwined their fingers.

“Hang on to me,” he whispered.

She clung.

He plunged in and out of her, stroking her from inside in a way that blew her mind. She careened toward orgasm so fast it was a relief and a torment. She wanted the orgasm with everything she had. Wanted to make what they were doing last, too. But she couldn’t have both. He lifted up slightly so that he could get his hands beneath her breasts. He cupped them and manipulated her hard, aching nipples, telling her that he couldn’t wait to suck them until they were red and achy, and then he lowered one hand to cup her between her thighs and manipulate her clit. He was all over. Surrounding her. Except…

She turned her face to the side and back, straining for his mouth, which he gave her almost instantly, plunging his tongue inside, mimicking with such perfection the way his body was joined with hers below the waist. Her release crashed into her like a tidal wave, making her shake and scream. Even as he grunted with his own release, he didn’t let the first wave of her orgasm hit and ebb, but rather kept the sensations going with everything he had—his mouth, fingers, cock. He made her ride wave after wave until she was almost crying, unable to take anymore. Then he stayed over her, quiet, caressing her softly, trailing kisses from one shoulder and across her neck to the next, almost as if he could feel the confusing emotions that threatened to overtake her and was trying to shelter her from them.

The next day, while Jamie took care of brother-of-the-bride duties, Lucy stood in front of a full-length mirror, looking at her reflection. Her hair was styled in a way she never would have chosen to style it, her body encased in a dress she never would have chosen to wear. The dress was pretty but subdued, with a modest neckline trimmed with lace.

Sighing heavily, she slipped on her silver shoes with the lovely but sedate three-inch heels and headed out.

The wedding was being held outside, on the green manicured lawn in the courtyard of the hotel overlooking the beach. As she walked toward where the pretty chairs were all arranged, she noted her casual up-do and dress seemed very similar to what other women were wearing, which both relieved and annoyed Lucy.

Luke, the man Melina had speculated was either a cop or a drug lord, smiled and held out his arm. She took it and let him usher her to her seat. Once she sat down he leaned close and said, “You look very nice today.”

“Thank you. You look handsome, as well.” And he did. Even when he smiled, Luke exuded danger. He was definitely a bad boy. Yet to her surprise, aside from noticing he was indeed good-looking, Lucy didn’t feel that heady tug of attraction she was expecting herself to feel. It was almost as if Jamison Whitcomb the Fourth had ruined her for other men.

She was seated at the end of the aisle somewhere near the middle. She could see Jamie near the front, looking good enough to eat in his black tux with burgundy vest and tie. She watched him talking and laughing with his friend Cole. And she noticed that several women seated around her were also looking at him.

Did they know he was as nice as he was sexy? And whereas Lucy had once thought those two things couldn’t truly be compatible, she knew his kind heart only made him that much more sexy.

As if he’d heard her thoughts, his gaze suddenly found hers and he smiled. Then he really looked at her, studying her from head to toe. He smiled again and mouthed the word, “Wow,” and fanned himself with his hand.

She felt herself blush, which pissed her off. She wasn’t the blushing type. She turned away quickly, only to jerk when she saw the two couples standing in the aisle next to her.

Mason’s parents, and his sister Diana and her date, likely her husband.

Mason’s mother smiled.

After all these years, Lucy still remembered Evelyn Lancaster’s smile. This was a pale imitation. That sparkle in her eyes, the way her whole face would light up when her son was in the room, was missing. There were deep lines around her blue eyes, and Lucy wondered how many of those lines came from the hours she’d spent crying over the loss of her son. Evelyn always had high cheekbones, but now they stood out so prominently she looked gaunt. There obviously wasn’t enough money in the world to erase the toll heartache had taken on her. Lucy’s heart ached for Evelyn in a way she wouldn’t have thought possible.

“Hello, Lucy.”

“Hello.” She stood. “I’m very sorry about Mason. At the hospital, I didn’t get the chance to tell you.” Her parents had attended Mason’s funeral, but she hadn’t been invited. And the Lancasters had left Gail’s funeral as soon as it was over—too emotional to stay to chat, Lucy figured.

“Of course not, dear. You were very upset. We all were, of course.”

Mason’s father nodded. She remembered him as a giant of a man, but in reality, he was a couple of inches under six feet. His eyes were almond-shaped and the color of chestnuts, and when she was younger they’d always seemed cold. His wide nose had seemed to flare like an angry bull’s when she was in room, confirming his distaste for her. Now his eyes just looked aged and a little bit sad.

She had to wonder how much of her memories had been skewed by her own youthful insecurities.

Lucy could see Mason in him and she wondered how a father could stand to lose a part of himself that way. Was Mason’s sister a comfort to them now?

Would I be a comfort to my parents?

What kind of daughter lets her parents go through losing a child alone?

She looked at Mason’s sister, Diana, as they took seats in the row behind Lucy. She was dressed in a designer gown, her brown hair swept gracefully back from her face and fastened in a smart bun at the nape of her neck, her lashes long and dark and undoubtedly extensions, and she didn’t look grief stricken. But if someone stood Lucy in front of a mirror right now, would they be able to see the pain of losing Gail? Just because they couldn’t didn’t mean it wasn’t there. That it would always be there.

Mason’s mother leaned toward her. “Your dress is lovely, dear. You look like a princess.”

“Thank you,” she said. She looked down at her dress. It wasn’t her, but the back…she liked the back of it. The lace met in a V across her upper back and then it was open to the waist. Sexy in a classy way.

She rolled her eyes suddenly and thought,
Keep it up, Lucy, and you’ll be a Stepford Wife before you know it.

“How is Milly?” she asked, unable to help herself.

Evelyn’s face grew soft at the mention of her grandchild. She nodded toward Diana, and said, “Diana is doing a great job caring for her, and the baby is growing each day.”

A tug pulled at Lucy’s heart. Her sister had wanted her to have custody of her daughter, this woman was trying to stop that. Yet…

She caught a brief glance between Evelyn and Diana—a glance containing love and support.

At least Gail could rest well knowing Milly was surrounded by people who not only wanted her, but loved her, too.

The Lancasters were seated, and Lucy looked back up at Jamie. He and the groomsmen seemed to be having some kind of pow-wow, and the wedding planner was in the corner, speaking on the phone and looking like she had just seen a ghost. Jamie’s father looked concerned and his mother seemed to be scanning the area for something…or someone. That was when it dawned on Lucy…. She’d seen Gabe, the best man, and Ryan, Cole, Luke, and Jamie who were the groomsmen, but where was the groom? Usually by now he’d be up front with his groomsmen, eagerly waiting for his bride to appear.

Uh-oh, this isn’t looking good,
she thought.

Lucy looked around like the rest of them, and that was when she spotted Jamie’s sister standing in the back. She was incredibly beautiful. Her dress was white with wide lace straps over the shoulders. It was cut in an A-line with a fitted bodice and a wide skirt, decorated with pearls, hand sewn no doubt, that gave it just a tinge of sparkle in the sun.