The Stand-In (13 page)

* * * *

“More grog!”

Patrick moved out of the way as a drunk uncle, dressed as a one-eyed scoundrel, pushed past him on his way to the bar. Always a drunk uncle at these things. Uncanny.

He circled the restaurant, shaking his head at the old-fashioned lanterns and ropes decorating the tables. Boy, Josh and Sunshine really loved pirates. The groom had kept up a facsimile of Johnny Depp’s movie accent the entire ceremony and reception. However, now that he’d had one or two drinks, the accent was almost perfect. His arm slung around his bride, he swayed as he chatted with guests.

Luckily, Sunshine was just the right height to prop him up. A tiny lady of Philippine heritage, she only came up to his shoulders, even in heels. Smiling brightly, she threatened to “loose her cannons” every time she greeted someone new.

It was a bit silly, but they were having fun. Although if his mom had been invited to such an event, she would have suffered vapors. Actually, the more he mused about it, the more the idea gave him a perverse pleasure.

He’d looked for Winn earlier, wanting to clarify his statement in the supply room. Unfortunately, Sunshine had kept her stand-in bridesmaid busy. Between running around taking candid shots of the guests and capturing family wishes on a video, he could see Winn barely had time to grab a drink. To make things worse, a smitten teenaged boy kept following her around, asking for her opinions on
Game of Thrones
.

Time to stage a rescue.

Grabbing two beers from the bar, Patrick made a beeline for Winn. The kid was still chatting her up and she was too polite to walk away.

“So, what’s your opinion on Jamie Lannister? I see him as a tortured hero.” The boy cast a curious glance at her boobs. “Hey, did anyone ever mention you look a lot like the Mother of Dragons?”

Winn smiled. “Thank you, I think.”

Patrick grabbed her hand and pulled her away. “Let’s go, Mother of Dragons. Break time.”

Before he could haul her out of the restaurant, the DJ blared “The Stripper” over the sound system. “And now, everyone, it’s that time,” he announced over the microphone. “Time for the happy couple to take center stage. Sunshine, I believe you’re wearing a lovely blue garter under that pirate dress.”

Sunshine raced to the middle of the dance floor, her hands in the air. “Oh, yeah, baby! And my man’s going to pull it off with his teeth.”

Winn looked at him and handed him her beer. “Sorry. I need to help her out.” She left him and dragged a chair to the middle of the dance floor. Sunshine sat down, waggling her eyebrows at Josh.

As Winn took a spot in the audience, Patrick moved behind her, suddenly wishing this damn wedding was over. In the meantime, dancing like a Chippendale’s dancer, Josh approached his bride. While the DJ and guests egged him on, he got down on his knees and offered Sunshine a lecherous smile.

Eating it up, Sunshine put a hand to his wigged head and directed it to her legs.

Patrick bit his lip, as his cock danced in his breeches. Despite the pirate getups, it was kind of sexy. Especially if he allowed himself to visualize Winn in the chair and him on the floor.

Josh slowly raised his wife’s skirts, ogling her legs. To numerous hoots, he grabbed the garter with his teeth and eased it over her white leather boot, toward her ankle. When he pulled it off, he stood and shouted like a gladiator in the arena.

Winn glanced back at him and he held her gaze, suddenly hungry. Hungry for her.

He couldn’t deny it. He wanted Winn Busby. Wanted her in his arms. Wanted his face between her legs. And more than anything, he wanted to drive his cock deep inside her so she screamed his name.

And from her tentative gaze, he sensed she wanted it, too.

Damn, this swashbuckler fiasco really needed to end.

“And now,” the DJ continued, “Josh is going to toss the garter. I need all the single men on the dance floor.”

As Winn pulled away, Patrick stared at her and got caught up in the crush of male bodies as they swarmed the floor. He didn’t even watch as the groom threw the garter, but as the silky piece of fabric whizzed by his head, his hand automatically moved to grab it. As the other dudes groaned, Patrick stared at the tiny scrap of lingerie.

“Huh,” he said, taken off guard.

Dazed, he barely heard as the DJ rounded up the single women for the bride’s bouquet toss. He looked for Winn. She stood off to the side of the horde of women, doing her duty as bridesmaid, but clearly not interested in the proceedings. Instead of eyeing the bride as Sunshine took aim, Winn just stared at him, seemingly as lost as he was.

Sunshine lifted her arm to toss the flowers. Just as she did, Josh tickled her and her aim went off-kilter. As a result, the bouquet swerved to the side of the room, and hit Winn in the side of the head. As she rallied, the floral arrangement tumbled into her hands. She stared at the bouquet as if an alien had fallen from the sky.

Patrick was just about to get her when the DJ continued rambling. “And now comes the fun part. Winn, as the lady who caught the bouquet, you need to take a seat.”

She looked at the DJ, and then at Patrick, and went white. “No, it’s okay.”

Despite her protests, Sunshine forced her into the chair. “Sit.” She turned to Patrick. “The man who caught the garter gets to put it on Winn…with his teeth.” And then she collapsed into a fit of giggles.

Patrick stared at the garter, trying hard to quell his erection. They wanted him to kneel between Winn’s legs and touch her with his mouth? Who
were
these people?

He swallowed in an attempt to ease his dry throat.

Okay. Maybe he could get through this if he considered it research for his story. Only he usually didn’t get hard-ons while researching.

As the stripper music blared in his head, he knew, without a doubt, he needed to see Winn naked. The idea had plagued him ever since meeting her. Surely by now he’d spent hours ruminating on the curve of her breasts and wondering how she’d taste.

He needed to get her out of his system. Only then, would he be able to function again. To think again. To goddamn breathe again.

He strode forward, intending to bring their dance of temptation to an end. As a crowd of strangers offered him encouraging catcalls, he knelt in front of Winn. He lifted the hem of her skirt, glimpsing those sexy boots.

“Patrick,” she said in a frantic whisper. “You don’t have to do this.”

He licked his lips, allowing his gaze to roam over her, ensuring she understood his intentions. “I want to do it.”

The DJ made inane comments in the background. The groom might have even come up and patted him on the shoulder, but Patrick barely heard them. All he saw in that moment was Winn. Her trembling lower lip and the blue-eyed wonder in her gaze. He saw her need and recognized how it matched his own.

He held up her left leg and placed the garter around her foot, easing it over her heel to her ankle. Once it was secure, he lowered his head, keeping his gaze pinned on her. She sucked in a breath as his teeth gripped the fabric. Moving as if he had all the time in the world, and as if no one watched, he edged the garter up her boot to her thigh. There, he met with soft skin.

And knew he couldn’t stop.

Pushing her skirt higher, but keeping it wrapped around her thighs, he caught a glimpse of silky, white panty.

Jesus Christ
.

As a fever of hunger boiled in his head, he continued sliding the garter up her leg to midthigh. Her leg clenched against his cheek. Her perfume, so light and flowery, assaulted his brain. And for the life of him, he wanted to forget the rest of the world existed and drag his tongue through her pussy.

He would have dragged that damn garter right up to her waist had the DJ not cleared his throat into the mike.

“Whoa. Nice job, buddy. And if you didn’t come to the wedding with this lady, something tells me you’ll be going home with her.”

The sleazy comment hit him like a brick in the stomach. Yes, he was caught up in a bizarre, pirate-inspired sexy moment, but he didn’t want to mortify Winn. He leaned back, pulled down her skirt, and dared to look her in the eye, sure she’d slap his face.

Only she didn’t.

She gazed at him, her eyes hooded and her mouth open. As desire flushed her cheeks, she whispered his name.

He helped her up. “How much longer until we can get out of here?”

Her eyelids fluttering, she looked at her watch. “I’m contracted to stay one more hour.”

He bit his tongue, leaned in and murmured, “Fuck. This is going to be the longest hour of my life. Savvy?”

* * * *

It was the longest hour of Winn’s life.

Somewhere in her lusty haze, she watched as the newlyweds cut their Flying Dutchman cake. While other couples danced, she sat quietly with Patrick and they did their best not to manhandle each other. It was hard. Obviously feeling hot, he’d removed his hat and wig and had loosened the ties on his pirate shirt. Many of the men had reached similar stages of undress but Patrick elevated the look. He looked like a pirate who’d just tumbled out of bed after a night of wenching.

Finally, the sexual tension proved too much. His hungry gaze pinned on her, he adjusted the table cloth so that it fell over her lap. He then snuck his fingers up her skirt and toyed with the garter. As his breath hitched, his hand moved past the garter, settling on her upper thigh.

She looked at him, amazed she’d allow this. Amazed he wanted it. He returned her gaze. God, it had been so long and he made her feel so many strange things. She just wanted…this.

She nodded.

His bold fingers, so warm and determined, slid under the elastic of her panties. She bit her lip and tried not to gasp.

His face placid, but his jaw set, he looked at the dance floor as he touched her. Moving closer, he slid his finger along her lips, as if familiarizing himself with the floor plan. As she locked her gaze on a print of a beach on the far wall, he located her clit and initiated a slow dance with the hard nub. After a couple of torturous circuits, as she waited for their lusty game to be discovered, he slid his finger into her core. She bit back a squeal.

“Easy,” he whispered. “Sit still, Winn.”

On and on, he tormented her. He eased his finger out of her pussy and circled her crazed clit, bringing her to the point of sweet release. She’d never done anything so insane. And yet here she sat, getting finger fucked on the job, at a freaking pirate wedding.

Out of nowhere, or so it seemed, Sunshine appeared before them at the other side of the table. She expected Patrick to remove his hand, or even grow still, but he continued those lazy circles.

Sunshine handed her an envelope with a discreet hand. Her own hand shook as she accepted it.

Stroke. Stroke
.

“Thanks for everything, Winn,” said the bride. “You did a great job.”

She gulped for air.
Stroke
. “Th-thanks.”

“Seriously,” continued Sunshine, oblivious. “You’re a total pro. Even working when you felt ill. I’ll tell Margie you were awesome, and such a good sport. I know this wedding has been unusual.”

Stroke. Stroke. Tap
. “Oh my God!”

“I know,” replied Sunshine. “Best night ever, right? I hope you two will stay until the bitter end and have some more to eat. There’s lots of Flying Dutchman to go around.”

Stroke. Tap. Tap
. Stars appeared before her eyes as she swallowed her cry. She clenched her mouth, knowing she’d scream if she opened it.

“Actually,” Patrick spoke for her. “We’re heading out now.”
Stroke. Stroke
. “Winn’s worn out. I need to get her into bed.” He slid his finger inside her and it was all she could do not to gyrate in place.

“No sweat. It’s been a long day. Have fun, you two!” Sunshine smiled and danced away, hollering for her groom.

Patrick took the opportunity to give her what looked like a comforting hug. He laid her head on his shoulder but under the table, he upped the ante.

“Close your eyes,” he whispered, kissing her cheek. “Pretend you’re a tired bridesmaid. Now come for me.”

His touch increased in pressure, smoothing over her mound with fervor. As the tidal wave knocked her off her feet and face first into the sand, her last vestige of common sense and propriety flew away. A crazed whimper rang out in her head.

She must have squeaked aloud. He rubbed her back with his other hand. “Shh, baby. When I get you home, you can make all the noise you want. In fact, I encourage it.”

He brought her to completion and she sighed into his shoulder, feeling so good but so dirty. What had they done? What had
she
done? She’d never been the sort to lose control. And in public?

As her body quivered with its last slow tremors, Patrick did not remove his hand. Rather, as if still exploring, as if wanting to drive her madder, he slid his fingers through each wet ruffle of skin. He teased her anew and once again her pelvis began its dance of sweet restlessness.

With a groan, he pulled his hand away. As she dared to face him, he grinned and brought his wet fingers to his mouth, licking the tips. “Goddammit, Winn. That was so hot. I’m harder than I’ve ever been.”

She dared to look at his lap, at the unmistakable bulge. She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “You might have trouble smuggling that big boy outta here.”

“I might have trouble not dragging you into the back room.” He picked up his hat and wig and stood, letting his hat camouflage his erection. He held out his other hand. “Come home with me.”

She gaped at him. Surely this was wrong. Hell, if she slept with him, she’d be breaking Margie’s number one rule about no hookups. To say nothing of the fact Patrick was supposed to be writing an article about her work. This had to be some sort of ethical no-no.

“I know, Winn. I know what you’re thinking. It’s wrong on a number of different levels. And you know what? Tonight, I just don’t fucking care.”

She looked at the envelope in her hands, the one with her payment for the evening. She’d worked hard to maintain her professionalism on the job. What she’d already done with Patrick could compromise her work.