The Wedding Night Before Christmas

by Kati Wilde

  “Staying.” Of course I’m staying with her. I slide my palm down her back, urging her to settle again. “I’m working again tomorrow morning. I don’t need two late nights in a row.”

  “Okay,” she says again, but doesn’t settle. Instead she wriggles around, then sits up and slips her fingers between her legs. “I’m really sticky. I need to—”

  “Lie right here while I get a washcloth and clean you up.”

  “I can—”

  “I know.” With a quick kiss to her mouth, I roll her over—away from the wet spot. “But I wasn’t supposed to get into you that deep tonight, let alone come up inside you. That’s my mess making you all sticky, so I’ll clean it up.”

  And if there’s any more blood, I can quietly take care of it so she won’t panic when she sees it.

  Maybe Audrey’s already thinking the same, though, because her gaze seems troubled as she watches me head for the bathroom. When I return with a washcloth in hand, she’s scooted up to the far end of the bed with her back against the headboard and hugging her bent knees to her chest.

  “Audrey?” Worry clutches my throat. “What’s going on?”

  Her eyes seem dark and haunted now. “You shouldn’t be so sweet to me.”

  “Why’s that?” I kneel on the mattress in front of her, and relief slips through my chest when she doesn’t stiffen or pull away from my touch. Gently I part her knees so I can begin cleaning her up. “I like being sweet to you. So tell me why I shouldn’t be.”

  “Because of what I just did to manipulate you.”

  Manipulate me? My eyebrows shoot upward. “What’d you do?”

  Maybe she tossed away her birth control? If so, screw cleaning her up. In ten seconds flat I’ll have her on her back and pumped full of more cum.

  Her chin quivers. “I already asked for so much. You wanted to wait for our wedding night but I needed this from you, and you gave it.”

  I meet her gaze and make sure she can hear the truth ringing through every word as I say, “And I was real fucking happy to give it.”

  “But you didn’t want to have sex tonight. You weren’t going to fuck me. That’s what you said. But I…” Her breath shudders and a sheen of moisture glitters in her eyes. “When it felt good instead of hurting, I wanted you inside me again. So I said you weren’t deep enough and that you hadn’t done what you promised. And you fucked me. Even though you wanted to wait. Because I pressured you and pressured you for more, but I shouldn’t have even asked for it. I should have respected what you wanted.”

  Ah hell. If it weren’t for those tears, I might have laughed. Not at Audrey, but at the idea that she took something I didn’t want to give.

  But it isn’t difficult to see where her fear is coming from. She’s got power and money like most people only dream of, and she has to be careful how to wield it. That caution has to influence the way she approaches sex, especially with all that’s going on in the world right now. Because she’s talking about this like she could pressure me.

  Maybe she could pressure a lot of other people. But those people aren’t me. So she’s got the context all wrong.

  “Three things, baby,” I tell her, wiping the cloth up the inside of her thigh as I continue to clean her up. “The first is that you couldn’t make me do anything I didn’t feel like doing. I’m the same as you that way. You won’t go to a party or do shit you don’t want to, and I don’t do shit that I don’t want to. That includes fucking someone. And you weren’t manipulating me. I knew damn well what you were playing at and I thought it was adorable and sexy and flattering as hell, knowing you wanted me that bad. But if I hadn’t wanted to go along with it, I wouldn’t have. The second thing is that the moment I realized you weren’t hurting, there was no fucking way I could have resisted getting into you. I’ve told you that, too. I kept my jeans on for over a week because I knew the second my bare cock got anywhere near your pussy, I was going in deep. Only you saying no or being in pain would have stopped me. But you weren’t. So you could have been silent the entire time and I still would have given in to temptation and opened you up all the way. All right?”

  Her breath shudders as if in relief when she nods. “And the third thing?”

  “That wasn’t us having sex. That wasn’t us fucking. That wasn’t us making love.” Which will include all of the above. “That was just me opening you up and doing my damn best to make it sexy for you. But on our wedding night, and every time after that, I’ll be doing a hell of a lot more than drilling halfway into your pussy a few times and then busting my nut. But you’ll just have to wait to see the difference.”

  “I will.” With her soft fingers, she touches my face, tracing the line of my jaw. “You’re such a good man, Caleb.”

  My heart swells up into my throat. Because if she thinks that, maybe her loving me someday isn’t impossible. Catching her hand, I press a kiss to her palm. “I just want to be good for you, Audrey. So that you don’t ever regret marrying the bastard who lied to you and hurt you before figuring out what an incredible woman you are. Because by all rights, you should still be angry at me.”

  “I was never angry. And I won’t regret it.” A shadow darkens her eyes. “I hope you don’t, either.”

  “Not a chance,” I tell her, finishing up with the washcloth and tossing it onto the nightstand. “Still sleepy?”

  She nods and slips under the covers, but despite me saying that I won’t regret marrying her, the shadow doesn’t leave her face.

  “Was there something else bothering you, baby?”

  She doesn’t shake her head. Doesn’t answer. She just pillows her cheek on my shoulder.

  Because she can’t lie well. So she doesn’t say anything.

  Which means there is something else.

  My throat is tight as I turn out the light. Holding her close, I try to breathe past the ache in my heart. Maybe my question was too general. There’s probably a ton of shit that bothers her, but not anything she wants to share.

  But general shit didn’t put that shadow in her eyes. Something we were talking about here did. “There’s nothing you want to tell me?”

  This time I feel the shake of her head, but the subsequent silence rips at my chest. Until she whispers, “I just want to be with you.”

  And all the pain goes away.

  12

  Caleb

  I don’t know what begins waking me up but I know what brings me all the way out: a soft press of lips to mine. Then another.

  Audrey, kissing me while she thinks I’m asleep.

  I don’t even breathe. Eyes closed, I wait about thirty seconds for her to do more. But there’s nothing. And she’s no longer lying beside me.

  Frowning, I sit up. The bedroom’s dark. The bathroom light isn’t on, so she’s not in there. But she’s easy to find. As soon as I leave the bedroom, the flashlight from her phone guides me straight to her. The device is lying on top of a box—giving her light to see by as she dresses. Already wearing her sweater, she’s standing by the front door and zipping up her skirt. Dismay flashes over her beautiful face when she sees me.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

  I’m glad she did. Scrubbing my hand over my face, I glance at the clock.

  Only one-thirty. The noise from outside tells me the party’s still going. I figured it must be morning but only two hours have passed since we went to sleep. “Are you heading back over to Patrick’s?”

  “Just to get my coat.” She balances on one foot while pulling on a boot. “I called for a driver to take me home. She’s out there now.”

  “I could have taken you home, baby.”

  “You have work in the morning.”

  “You do, too,” I point out.

  “Not really. Mia’s treating me to a spa day tomorrow. Polishing me up”—she huffs out a breath while pulling on her other boot—“so I can look pretty for the wedding.”

  “I honest-to-God can’t imagine you being any more beautiful th
an you are right now.” The delight that fills her expression vanishes as I add, “You should stay until morning. You’ll get more sleep that way. And I’ll drive you wherever you need to go before work tomorrow.”

  She averts her face. Her ponytail’s down, and her blonde curtain of hair partially veils her expression. “You never stay the night at my house. So I just… It feels like I should go, too.”

  Ah fuck. She likes personal interactions to have context and guidelines. And from the very first day, she’s been figuring out the rules for an engaged couple, taking many of her cues from me. But some of those rules I didn’t mean to establish.

  Like this one. My chest is tight as I tell her, “I just didn’t trust myself to wait until the wedding if I slept all night in your bed.”

  “Do you trust yourself now?”

  No. But I still want her there. Next to me.

  Under me.

  Goddammit. “I want to say yes, just so you’ll stay. But I’m not going to be an asshole and lie to you.” For an instant, she looks utterly devastated and her expression nearly rips my heart out. “I never wanted to go.”

  “But you did anyway.”

  I can’t refute that, so I try a different angle. “Do you want to stay? You can if you want to.”

  She wants to. A wistful expression passes over her face. Then she shakes her head and picks up her phone, using the light to find the front door handle. “That’s what I always said. And you always left, anyway.”

  Shit. I’m such a fucking asshole. “Baby, give me a second to put on pants and I’ll walk you over.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “I know you will—” Screw getting dressed, because she’s not stopping. Buck naked, I follow her through the door and onto the landing. She stops then, eyes widening as the flashlight beam dances over my cock. Quickly she turns it off, but thanks to the floodlight over the garage door, anyone could still see us up here. Despite the noise coming from the patio, though, I doubt anyone’s looking. And I wouldn’t give a shit if they did.

  All that matters is that she’s laughing now. “Caleb, it’s snowing out here!”

  With an icy wind that’s already freezing my balls. Since she’s not wearing a coat, I won’t keep her long. Just long enough to wrap my arm around her waist and pull her close. “The next time I see you, we’ll be at the church.”

  Her eyes soften. “Yes.”

  “And the next time I talk to you, I’ll be saying ‘I do.’”

  She makes a happy sound in her throat and rises up on her toes. Her mouth is sweet and warm beneath mine, and the sheer pleasure of kissing her almost makes me forget where I was going with all this. But as soon as she pulls away and says a quiet goodnight, I remember.

  Catching her hand, I press a kiss to her palm. “As soon as we’re married, we won’t be engaged anymore. We’ll be husband and wife. And we’ll hit the reset button, all right? We’ll kiss hello and goodbye, and spend all night together. No gimmicks, no stupid assumptions that’ll hurt you, no more waiting for anything. We’ll have a clean start to this marriage. Yeah?”

  Her eyes seem to glitter extra bright. “A clean start,” she whispers. “Okay.”

  “Good.” With another kiss to her cold fingers, I let her go. “I’m going to stay up here until I see you make it into the house. Then text me when you’re in the car and when you get home safe.”

  She bites her lip and nods, her gaze searching my face before she turns and runs down the stairs. Her pale hair seems to glow in the dark as she crosses the lawn.

  Even though she’s quick, my dick’s pretty much an icicle by the time I’m satisfied that she made it through Patrick’s front door all right. I head back to bed, but don’t think I’ll get much sleep. Not with the way my chest is aching. Not with the feeling of something wrong pressing down on me, making it so damn hard to breathe.

  Not just her being gone—and knowing she only left because I abandoned her every night—though that’s enough of a reason. After our wedding, though, that’ll be nothing. We’ll get that fresh start. New guidelines. Ones that’ll make it easy for her to fall in love with me. Just like I fell for her.

  Somehow, I need to give her as much as she’s given me. Because when it comes to giving, she sure as fuck didn’t take her cues from anything I’ve done. Shit, I’ve been holding back from day one.

  Holding back. While she gives and gives and gives. And never asks for anything in return.

  Oh fuck. The pain in my chest deepens as I realize the truth of that.

  I held back, refusing to fuck her or to sleep beside her through the night—holding out for the wedding to make sure she’d marry me, even though she never gave any indication of changing her mind. Not once. Not even after I said all that shit the first night. I was the only one who ever had any doubts.

  Yet Audrey never wavered. She didn’t only offer me what I asked for in the proposal, either. She opened her beautiful home and said everything there was mine now, too. Not just shared space, but the garage for my very own use, simply because I told her I restored cars on the side. She immediately tried to accomodate me as much as possible and didn’t hold anything back. She offered up her home, her body—Christ, even security clearance at her building. All of which involves a hell of a lot of risk for her.

  Within one day, she did that. Risking so much. Physically, emotionally, financially.

  Yet despite being with her all this time, I won’t even take the risk of moving an old car and a few tools. And she knew it, too. Right away, she picked up that I didn’t intend to move my shit to her garage. And how’s she supposed to read that as anything other than me not planning to stay? I want to, but how can she know that when I don’t say a damn thing about it?

  How the fuck is she supposed to fall in love with me? I’m a selfish asshole who’ll take everything she gives but won’t offer shit in return.

  I haven’t even given her my real reason for marrying her. A clean start? That’s a fucking joke. She’ll head into the church on Christmas Eve thinking I’m marrying her because of the will contest and a contract based on my proposal. But that’s only what brought me to her office that first day. I signed that fucking contract and let her go on thinking that the Wyndhams and the inheritance are why I’m with her. Even though she gave me the truth of her reasons for agreeing to my proposal and they didn’t have shit to do with the property; she simply liked me and was attracted to me. Yet I never offered any truth in return.

  Then she gave me her trust, the most precious gift I’ve ever known. Gave it when she revealed what her parents had done. Gave it to me right here in this bed.

  I couldn’t even give her my trust in return. I never trusted that she’d marry me if I didn’t hold back my cock—never trusted her word, though she can’t even lie. And I never trusted her with my heart. So I held that back, too.

  She’s given me so damn much. And I’ve given her…nothing. A few orgasms, maybe. Nothing she couldn’t have gotten from anyone she wanted to.

  But I can give her more. I need to, if I’m to have any hope of winning her heart. No more holding back. And no waiting until after the wedding to tell her the truth. I’m marrying her because I can’t imagine a life without her in it. Because she’s my whole fucking world.

  Because I love her.

  Heart thundering, I sit up and try to remember where I left my phone. A declaration of love isn’t the kind of thing that should be texted, but Audrey just left, so she’s probably only a few minutes away. I should ask her to come back, for the driver to turn around. Except she might think I’ll just try to persuade her to stay the night. So I’ll tell her that I’m coming out to her place.

  A knock at my front door interrupts my search through the pockets of my jeans. Fuck. It’s likely Patrick or someone else from the party who saw Audrey go and who’s wondering where the hell I am. But I take it as a sign that I’m supposed to get my ass in gear and to go after her.

  The jeans on my floor are the ones I
wore while carrying Audrey up the stairs from the garage. The stiff denim looks as if it’s stained with ten gallons of jizz and all my other pants are in the washing machine, so I drag the sheet off the bed and wrap it around my waist. Holding the material bunched at my left hip, I unlock the door, ready to tell whoever’s on the other side to fuck off for the night.

  Except it’s Audrey. Looking almost frail in her long cream coat, her eyes shining with tears, her face pale and drawn.

  “Audrey?” Shit. Worry clutching my heart, I cup her cold cheek in my hand, my gaze desperately searching her from head to toe. “What’s the matter?”

  “I have to tell you… I need to—” She abruptly stops. Her throat works. Her expression is shadowed, just like it was in bed earlier. When she wouldn’t talk about what was bothering her. “Can I come in for a minute?”

  “You don’t even need to ask.” But I need to get out of the damn way. I back up, giving her room to walk through the doorway. “Are you okay?”

  She doesn’t answer that, which means she’s not. Instead she presses her back against the wall just beside the door, her hands balled in her coat pockets and her shoulders hunched. “It’s about the clean start. I have to confess something first. So it can really be clean.”

  “All right,” I say, then add, “Let me get you a glass of water first, baby.”

  Because every word she just said doesn’t worry me as much as how they sounded. Raw and hoarse, like she’s got broken glass ripping up her throat. I’m across the room when her next words bring me to an abrupt halt.

  “I lied to you.”

  I swing around to face her again. “When? About what?”

  “Tonight.” It’s barely a whisper. “And about why I didn’t tell you the will contest was being dismissed.”

  “Yeah, I picked up on that,” I tell her, because she really is the worst liar in the world. She was so damn shifty, I knew there was something. Except I still can’t see what she was lying about. “What part of that wasn’t true?”