Advice from a Jilted Bride

by Rayne, Piper

  Without a bra, I’m practically bare in front of him. I step out of the dress and toward him, my fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. He continues to watch my movements, his hands molding to my sides and sliding up and down my skin until he hooks his fingers on either side of my panties, only teasing me though because he leaves them on.

  His chest is smooth and his stomach flat and once I have his shirt completely undone, he shrugs it off his body, leaving it to join my dress on the floor.

  Sliding out a dining room chair, he sits and pats his legs.

  “What about your slacks?”

  “If I take these off, this will be over much quicker than I’d prefer.” He pats his legs again and I waste no time, straddling him.

  He twirls my hair into a ponytail and grips the strands at the back of my head, tilting my head where he wants it and licking up my throat. “Do one thing for me tonight?”

  A moan is my response.

  “Just be here, present with me. Don’t worry about what I might be thinking because I’m only thinking about being inside of you and praying that I last longer than my fifteen-year-old self.”

  I giggle and he latches on to one of my nipples, sucking it into his mouth and my giggle morphs into a moan. My head falls back and my lower half grinds against the growing erection in his slacks.

  He doesn’t make it hard to enjoy the way he worships my body. His kisses are little morsels of admiration for my naked self. His groans are a self-confidence boost that assures me I’m what he wants.

  Just when we’re in a rhythm, he stands and my back hits the cool glass of his dining room table. My legs hang over the side, but his fingers slide my panties down my legs, and he pushes my legs up onto his shoulders.

  Thank God for that wax job.

  “A landing strip,” his husky voice says.

  “I might live in Alaska, but I’m not a cavewoman.”

  He chuckles, sitting in the chair and sliding my ass down the glass toward him. “I thought you’d be neatly trimmed.”

  “You thought of me?”

  “From the moment you hit me in the head with the book.” He smiles up at me and a giggle escapes my throat until his tongue swipes up my center at which point it too dies off into a moan.

  Then all I can think is how marvelous that feels and I hope he never grows tired of it. He laps at me until I’m a needy mess, begging for more. When he plunges a finger inside me, I gasp. When he adds another one, I moan. When he adds a third, I lift my hips and grind into his hot waiting mouth. The more I buck, the more satisfied noises come from Wyatt and I’m racing toward the point of no return. His fingers grip my hips and I know there’ll be marks there afterward and that thought only sling shots me up one more level on the arousal meter.

  “Oh God!” I scream, my hands searching for something to grip onto before my orgasm rips through me. One hand finds the edge of the table, but I’m too far away from the other so I press it to the glass behind me, my entire body practically rising from the need coiling inside of me. His tongue strokes my clit again and again. My thighs tense, the lower half of my body completely off the glass until I climax, falling over the crest, his name slipping past my lips.

  He extends my bliss by not relenting throughout my orgasm and I grip the glass table so hard I fear I’m strong enough to break it. Eventually he slows his movements, settling me back down on the glass, allowing me to come back to him after the best orgasm of my life.

  When I lift my head, he’s sitting back in his chair watching me with lust-filled eyes. He rubs himself through his slacks. “You’re beautiful when you come.”

  I feel my cheeks flush and I slide to the end of the table, my quivering legs finding the ground, but I quickly fall to my knees, my hands on his belt. “Let me watch you come now.”

  He allows me to open his pants and pull him out, my hand wrapping around his impressive dick and stroking it.

  “When I’m inside of you.” He guides me up under my arms and he digs a condom out of his pocket. His gaze stays on me as he takes off his pants, boxer briefs, and rips the condom open, sliding it down his rigid length.

  I wouldn’t think I could come again so soon but watching him spurs another round of desire inside me.

  “I’d love you to ride me, if you’re up for it.”

  “Not outside though?” I ask.

  He chuckles and tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Not outside.” He sits on the dining room chair, waiting for me.

  I don’t make him wait long.

  Thirty-Six

  Wyatt

  I think I blacked out when Brooklyn came a few minutes ago but watching her step toward me, trusting that I’ll get her through our first time together spoils me with the confidence of a man who deserves her.

  She straddles me and I position my dick at her opening. One day she’ll guide me. Baby steps. She sinks down on top of me with a moan.

  Fuck, she feels incredible.

  I grab her hips and she anchors herself with her arms behind my neck. She’s slow at first, allowing me to cup her pert breasts and suck on her nipples. She likes that. I can tell by the way her eyes roll back into her head.

  Rounding my hips, we find a groove and a rhythm. I know I’m getting no sleep tonight because this isn’t going to be enough for me. My appetite for Brooklyn might never wane.

  “You feel so good,” she says, her hands now on the back of the chair, rising and falling up and down my length, deliberately building our orgasms. God love her.

  “I don’t even have words to describe this,” I say, leaning back to watch the pleasure unfold on her face.

  Eventually, I grip both her ass cheeks and quicken the pace, unable to keep myself from claiming her any longer.

  “Wyatt.” Her hand hits the back of the chair and I keep the pace, the sweat between our bodies making the sliding against one another that much sexier.

  “Don’t stop, baby,” I say, and my lips cast kisses anywhere I see skin. My orgasm barrels through me without warning and all the pious thoughts in the world aren’t going to stop me from exploding in a second.

  I thrust as deep as I can get, and she gasps. Her thighs tighten and the same noise that tumbled out of her mouth when she came before falls out now, pushing me over the final hurdle until I still inside and stretch up to claim her mouth with my tongue.

  After I come, I fall back into the chair and she comes with me, her hair a sweaty mess. My entire condo smells of sex and it brings a smile to my face however early caveman that might be.

  “You’re amazing,” I whisper in her ear and goose bumps cascade across her skin.

  Yeah, I need to figure out a way to keep her because I’m not ready to let go. It’s a startling realization, but I’m not one to lie to myself.

  “Shower?” I ask.

  “And food?” Her breath is still fighting to return to normal.

  “I’ll order and we’ll shower while we wait.”

  “Perfect.”

  I pick her up and her feet fall to the floor. I miss the feel of her pressed against me already.

  * * *

  I grab another piece of pizza out of the box between us. Brooklyn’s wet hair is entwined in some sort of twist on top of her head and she’s dressed in a comfy pair of pajamas I’ve seen her wear back in Lake Starlight. I think it’s safe to say she wasn’t planning on doing what we did.

  “So, you never moved away for college, huh?” she mumbles over a piece of pizza.

  “I went to Columbia, much to my dad’s displeasure.”

  “Why?”

  “I didn’t get accepted at Harvard.” I pick at my pizza. The reference to my father brings a knot to my stomach. It’s time I come clean with a lot of stuff.

  “Well, Columbia is a great school.”

  “It’s not Harvard, especially in my dad’s eyes.”

  “It’s better than Idaho State.” She picks a piece of mushroom off her pizza and pops it into her mouth.

  �
��Why’d you go there?” I sip my beer and she stares off into the distance.

  “I have no idea.” A small giggle floats out of her. “I mean a lot of my friends went there, so I did too. I was so hell-bent on getting out of Lake Starlight I don’t think I cared where I went.”

  “I kind of felt that way about New York when I went to Lake Starlight. I just wanted away from here.” She glances over to me with a look that implies I should keep going. “What?”

  She shrugs. “I’m just wondering. I get that your dad is controlling but why did you want to run away?”

  I drop my pizza onto the plate and figure the beer will do me better if we’re going to have this conversation. She’s let me in her head more than once, doesn’t she deserve to visit mine?

  My stomach clenches and I prepare myself to disappoint her.

  “You don’t have to—”

  “When I was nine, my mom was diagnosed with cancer.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” She reaches across the couch and touches my leg.

  “Thanks, but she’s been good since. I mean she beat it.”

  “That’s wonderful.” She squeezes my knee and I wish that was the end of my issues. But what my mom’s challenge taught her didn’t have the same effect on me. My mom looked at her life with a fresh lens, a restart, but all I saw was how love was just a lie, not something you could rely on.

  “It is. It was a hard road. Part of that time in my life is a blur but other parts are a vivid recollection, like a movie playing inside my head.” I sip my beer, buying myself some time to run over those memories, however painful.

  The times when the nurse wouldn’t let me in to see my mom. When my jokes would bring a pained smile to my mom’s face, but not a laugh. When Haylee’s dress-up fashion shows didn’t make her eyes light up. The times when I’d rush upstairs after school only to be shuffled out of the room by the nurse because my mom needed her rest. The cries I’d hear late at night that her music couldn’t mask. The footsteps of my dad coming home late at night rather than right after work. My parents’ fights where she’d beg him to be there for her.

  Brooklyn gives me the space I need, silently watching on, until I’m ready to lay everything out there.

  “My parents’ marriage was never great from what I can remember. My dad never hit my mom or anything, but he’d make condescending remarks once in a while and he was absent from our lives a lot. They didn’t show affection in front of Haylee or me. I never thought much of it until my mom got sick. She was always sad, and my dad seemed to be even more scarce during her treatments than he had beforehand.” I look out the window, wishing for not the first time that I could only focus on the fact my mom survived it, and not everything else.

  “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.” She slides closer, her hand coming to my cheek.

  I look at her long and hard. If anyone deserves to know my biggest struggle, it’s this girl. The woman who’s slowly making me think I might be wrong about the whole love thing. “I want to, it’s just, I’ve never told anyone this before.”

  “Take your time.” She pulls my hand into her lap and covers it with both of hers.

  I sip my beer again, thinking I should have poured myself a scotch instead.

  “My dad was rarely home before she got sick, but after she was diagnosed, he never even made it home for dinner. He’d come home late at night or say he had to travel somewhere. The longer that went on, the more my mom seemed to become depressed. Haylee and I would try everything and anything to make her happy, but we weren’t enough.”

  I stare into her blue eyes to gain the strength I need.

  “One night it was late, and my mom had just fallen asleep. I went downstairs to my dad’s office. I wanted him to buy me a new joke book because none of mine were working anymore. I was quiet because my dad had this thing with us running or making any noise in the house. All I wanted was to behave so he’d take me or let the nanny take me to get the book the next day.”

  I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the next part.

  “The giggling should have clued me in, but my dad had associates come over all the time. It seemed like everyone worked late in his world. The door to his office was cracked open a bit which I remember being surprised about because my dad was always paranoid about people overhearing him when it came to business. When I first peered in, I saw my dad at his bar, pouring a drink and I cracked it open further thinking it was okay if I went in, but a woman came up behind him.”

  A cold chill runs down my spine remembering how her arms wrapped around his waist. The way her cheek laid on his back and her eyes fell closed.

  “My dad put down the drink, turned around and kissed her.”

  “Oh, Wyatt.” Brooklyn raises to her knees and hugs me.

  I pull her into my lap, wanting her to be close.

  “I watched them kiss and my dad pull her closer. I’d never seen him do that with my mom and I didn’t understand why he was doing it with some woman I didn’t even know.”

  “Did you go in?”

  “No.” I shake my head. “My dad would’ve killed me. I thought if I went in, I had no chance of getting the book.”

  “I’m sorry. No kid should have to see that.”

  I nod, rubbing my hand up and down her thigh. “It kind of screwed me up for a long time.”

  I don’t even know if my mom knew, I never had the nerve to ask.

  “I hid it from my mom because I didn’t want to hurt her, and I hate myself for it.”

  “Why does your mom stay with him?” she asks without judgment.

  I shrug. “I think she genuinely loves him. Even if she did know, I’m not sure it would matter, but it’s been eating at me for twenty years. Maybe it’s why I let her convince me to bring a date to the wedding.” I smile and lean my forehead on hers. “I’m happy I did though.”

  “Me, too.” Her arms go around my neck.

  I inhale a deep breath, wishing that was all I had to tell her, but that’s only what spurred me to live my life the way I did.

  “Anyway, my mom beat her cancer and I never found my dad with anyone else even as I got older and would follow him or look for signs at meetings or social events. But I was an angry person—at my dad for treating my mom the way he did and at myself for not having her back.”

  “Wyatt, you were nine—”

  “Let me get this out.” She nods and presses her lips together. “I did stuff I’m not proud of.” I bring my hand to her cheek, running my thumb over her soft skin. “I’ve slept with a lot of women and I’ve never wanted a relationship with any of them. Not that I led them on, but I treated them poorly, putting their feelings aside too many times. Sex was a distraction I used to keep me from thinking of the reality of my family situation and I didn’t give much thought to who I might be hurting. Veronica and I had a strictly sexual relationship for years. She helped me cope with the anger of my dad by—” She puts her finger to my lips to stop me.

  “You don’t owe me any explanation about your past, Wyatt.”

  “But I was a shitty person.”

  She smiles and her head falls to my shoulder. “You’re not now.”

  “How can you be so sure?” I whisper.

  She kisses me right under my chin. “Because ever since I met you, you’ve done the right thing. Not to mention the fact that you’ve helped me get through the second worst thing to ever happen in my life.” She pulls back and moves her leg so she’s straddling me, placing each of her hands on my cheeks. “The fact you feel there’s a need to tell me you’re pretty much a manwhore with no feelings says you’re not who you think you are.”

  “You know the Lake Starlight Wyatt, not the New York one.”

  She shrugs with a smirk on her lips. “There are things to like about both of them.”

  Forgetting the pizza, drinks, and the deep talk, I stand, picking her up with me. “Are you sure you’re not some angel sent down to save me?”

  She hugs me
to her body and nibbles on my earlobe as we walk toward my bedroom. “Don’t go putting labels on me I can’t fulfill.”

  “Are you suggesting you have a naughty side?”

  Her body vibrates against mine with her chuckle. “A good girl never tells.”

  I drop her on the bed. “I promise, your secret is safe with me.”

  I crawl on top of her, my lips meeting hers and wanting nothing but to stay in this bubble with her for the rest of my life.

  Thirty-Seven

  Brooklyn

  We walk into the building the ceremony is being held in, Wyatt’s hand on the small of my back. Wyatt’s been good at distracting me from the fact that I’ll be attending the first wedding since being left at the altar.

  But between the two of us, I’m not sure which one needs more support. Wyatt’s feelings toward his father aren’t going to disappear and after last night I’m not sure where they stand. Poor Haylee, I can’t imagine how this affects her to have her brother and father fighting on the day of her wedding.

  “Wyatt!” A guy who I’d peg at eighteen or nineteen and is handing out programs does the whole shake and hug thing with him. “I saw you for a fleeting moment last night, chasing…” the guy’s eyes fall to me, “you.” He puts his hand out. “Ian.”

  “Brooklyn.” I smile.

  The guy has a clean cut jock-look to him with a charismatic smile that probably assures he’s not home alone on a Saturday night.

  “This is Bradley’s brother,” Wyatt says to me.

  “Also, his usher. You’d think the whole blood bond would mean I’d be a groomsman.” Ian rolls his eyes in a dramatic fashion.

  “I’m just a guest, so you’re one step above me.” Wyatt pats him on the back.

  “All of his government friends got the prime jobs. I will say though, they throw a helluva bachelor party.” His eyes widen. “You missed out.”