Girl in Luv

by Jay Crownover

  I muttered her name on a strangled breath when her fingers danced over the already leaking tip of my cock.

  “Off.” I was only capable of single syllables at the moment and I didn’t have a free hand available to get the top of her dress down, so I ordered her to remove the barrier.

  Langley’s little shimmy and wiggle to get the blue fabric out of the way had her hand moving in an erratic rhythm up and down my rigid dick, but it was the sight of her small, high, rosy-tipped breasts that had me growling again. She was such a perfect, pretty handful. I couldn’t wait to taste her…all over.

  When I bent my head to drag my tongue across one puckered nipple, the motion pushed my fingers deeper inside her welcoming body. Her pussy clenched and fluttered around my fingers and she whimpered helplessly as I stroked her and sucked on her nipple at the same time. Her eyes fluttered closed and she whispered my name on a broken sigh, her hand finding its own distracting rhythm as we both tried our best to drive the other over the edge.

  Not since high school had nothing more than the feel of a girl’s hand wrapped tightly around my cock been enough to do me in. But, for some reason, Langley’s mere touch was more than enough to have me hovering on the precipice of pure, unfiltered pleasure. I released the nipple I was torturing and dragged the very tip of my tongue across her chest to the other one. The sound she made when I pulled her other nipple into my mouth and used my teeth on the sensitive peak had uncontrollable heat coiling tightly at the base of my spine. The sensation caused the rest of my body to tighten and made my dick throb in Langley’s tight grasp. When her thumb grazed the leaking slit again, I gasped against her breast and closed my eyes. For a second, I thought she was going to make me see stars, which was something that had never happened to me before.

  I twisted my wrist, and flicked my fingers faster, feeling a rush of wetness from her folds when I did. I needed her to be as far gone as I was. I needed her to have the same unforgettable memory of this moment that I was undoubtedly going to have. Moving my mouth to the side of her neck, I kissed my way to her rapid pulse, and shifted my hand caught between her thighs so I could brush my knuckles against the tight, tiny bump of her clit. Her body jolted at the contact, and her hand tightened to where she was stroking me into an almost painful hold.

  Her eyes flew open and her jaw dropped just slightly. “Do that again.” Her teeth bit into her lip and she suddenly looked shy. “Please.”

  Vaguely, I recalled our previous conversation about dating. She mentioned she hadn’t really seen anyone aside from that asshole Richard. It wasn’t a stretch to imagine the selfish, annoying man as a terrible lover. She was probably too inexperienced and unpracticed to know what it was like when the man she was with put her desire and needs in front of his own.

  “Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.” Somewhere in the back of my mind, I wanted that declaration to carry its weight outside of the bedroom…but it couldn’t. And I knew that. At least not right now.

  I used my thumb to rub soft circles around her most sensitive of spots, increasing the pressure and speed until she was panting and writhing beneath me. I grunted in surprise when her teeth suddenly locked down on my shoulder as her back bowed off the bed. Her fingers flicked briefly along the heavy vein on the underneath side of my cock, and that pulse of pleasure low in my gut started to blaze outward. All of my nerves felt electrified, and my heart started to pound so hard and fast I wondered if she could hear it.

  The sound of blood rushing was so loud I almost didn’t hear her small shout of completion. But I sure felt it.

  Her delicate frame shook so hard she almost dislodged my still-playing fingers. A rush of wetness suddenly surrounded my touch and made the glide of my fingers through her delicate folds even easier. Feeling her release, knowing I was the one who wrung all the pleasure from her body, was enough to send my own release spiraling out of control. A second later, her fingers were the ones coated in moisture.

  It took a while before either of us moved. All things considered, this was hands down the best, most erotic, foreplay I’d ever been a part of. I wanted to strip her the rest of the way out of her dress, throw the remaining pieces of my suit on the floor, and fuck her until the sun came up. But, that thinking was dangerous, and I’d already crossed more than one invisible line I’d drawn for myself when I agreed to this scheme of hers.

  Planting a hard, nearly bruising kiss on her soft mouth, I levered myself off of her now-pliant body and flopped face down on the mattress next to her. I needed to strip out of my damp underwear and get my racing heart and wavering sensibilities back under control.

  “I like you far more than I ever anticipated, Langley Vaughn.” And that was a problem.

  She turned her head, and I had to close my eyes to block out the seductive gleam in hers. How someone could be so equally tempting and innocent was a mystery.

  “I like you a lot as well, Iker Alvarez.” She sounded far less surprised by the revelation than I did, and I wondered if she was still going to like me when the truth about why we could never have anything more than this week was revealed.

  Part of me wanted to believe she would understand. But a bigger part reminded me we were worlds apart, and as kind and thoughtful as she was, she really didn’t understand what it was like and what it meant to give up everything for someone else.

  Langley

  What were the chances of falling for someone in six days?

  It’s just an infatuation, I reminded myself. A crush. Our emotions were heightened by the stress of the week, we’d been together every single day, and we had some off-the-charts chemistry. Add that all together, and there was bound to be an infatuation.

  Right. I was infatuated with him.

  Infatuated with his strength of heart, of character, how he stood up for me when even I honestly believed I couldn’t.

  Infatuated with the way he looked at me—like I was a puzzle to solve. Like I was something special and deserved to be treated as such.

  Infatuated with the low timbre of his voice, and just about everything he said.

  Infatuated with his dimple.

  God, I loved that dimple, his smile, his laugh. I loved everything about his body, really. All cut and hard, with yards of tan skin stretching over stacked muscle. Loved the way he’d touched me last night, how he’d drawn reactions out of me I didn’t know I had.

  Iker stripped my inhibitions in just about every way possible, and I loved it—his effect on me.

  Stop using that word. One orgasm does not the L-word make.

  I sighed, thinking of how he’d kissed his way up my naked spine as he’d zipped this dress. The elevator dinged on the floor, jarring me from my Iker-induced haze, and I stepped onto the soft carpet.

  My fingers barely rapped on the door once before it was thrown open.

  “She’s here!” Nessa cried out, then yanked me inside.

  The Penrose suite was three bedrooms of over-the-top luxury, so naturally, Camille had chosen this one.

  “You were supposed to be here four hours ago!” Virginia shouted, coming out of one of the bedrooms with both her finger and temper raised.

  “Three and a half,” I answered with a shrug. “And I’m here now. It’s not like I missed the wedding, just all the veiled insults you would have thrown my way all afternoon. So, I really saved us both the effort.”

  Virginia’s mouth dropped open, which I understood. Hell, I was kind of shocked I’d actually said it too.

  “We only have a half hour until we have to leave for the chapel,” she seethed.

  “Oh, that’s plenty of time for you to cut me down to size, no worries.” I turned to where Phoebe and Nessa stood in their pink dresses, watching us like a tennis match. “You girls look lovely!” Like cotton candy at a county fair, I thought to myself.

  “Your hair isn’t done—” Virginia started.

  “Oh, it’s done, it’s just not up.” I’d washed, dried, and curled it a little.

  �
�I can give it a simple twist,” the hairdresser commented, sticking his head outside the bedroom.

  “Sure, if that’s what Camille would like, then I’m happy to do that.” See, I could totally be accommodating.

  “She asked that all the bridesmaids wear their hair up,” Virginia hissed, following me into the bedroom with the stylist.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” I told her as I sat on the pretty, cushioned stool beside the vanity. “When was this announcement?”

  “She decided this afternoon.” Virginia’s reflection hovered behind me in the mirror.

  “Huh,” I said, checking my phone. “I guess I missed that text.”

  The stylist hid a laugh as he started to comb my hair.

  “You would have known if you’d been here.”

  “I figured if it was that important that I witness the worship of Camille, you would have sent someone to fetch me to kneel at the altar of her ego. But since there was no knock, and no text, and zero apology from anyone about what happened last night, I got ready in my own room, and had a lovely day of it.” I smiled especially bright, which sent splotches of red up her neck.

  Just as her mouth opened to retort, a shrill cry sounded from the other room.

  “Mom! My tiara is all wrong!”

  Virginia shook her head at me, then fled this bedroom in favor of the one that no doubt held Camille. “I’m coming, Cammy!”

  “Hi. I’m Langley,” I told the stylist as his nimble fingers worked my hair into a classic French twist.

  “Hi, Langley, I’m Daniel, and I’ve heard all sorts of interesting things about you today.” He gave me a wink.

  “Remind me to give you a huge tip. I’m sure you’ll need it to hit the bar after being in here all afternoon with these vipers.”

  He laughed, but didn’t disagree, and twenty minutes later, I was styled and ready to walk out with the bridal party.

  “So, you do live,” Camille snapped at me as Virginia fluffed what looked to be about fourteen layers of tulle on her.

  “And you look beautiful,” I told her honestly. Was the dress a little much? Maybe, but so was Camille. The dress was as over-the-top as everything else about this wedding was.

  Her eyes narrowed, but there was zero malice in my comment to strike back on. It was her day, even if she was a witch.

  We made our way down to the lobby, pink peonies in hand, just like Camille had wanted. I smiled when instructed by the photographer, and squeezed into the limo with the other girls. Stuffing Camille and her dress in took a little time, and was definitely not one of the things she wanted photographed.

  The drive to the chapel was four minutes, at most—just around the little lake, but the walk would have been killer in that dress and the heels.

  “Okay, just as planned, everyone,” the coordinator told us after speaking into her headset.

  We sat through the production of unfolding Camille from the car, and then straightened our knee-length dresses after we climbed out.

  The June air hung heavy, fragrant with the flowers that had been draped along the railings of the steps leading into the chapel. It was perfect, really.

  “What?” I heard the coordinator whisper into her headset. “You’re certain?”

  Every head pivoted toward her. She faked a smile at Camille and held up her finger. “Well, you should do that right now,” she spoke into the headset.

  “What’s wrong?” Camille asked, voice shrill and high.

  “Well, we’ve arrived before the groom, so—”

  “What?” Camille shouted. “He’s not here?”

  “I’m sure he’s on his way, so we need to get you inside, so he doesn’t see you before the wedding.” The coordinator’s smile shook.

  “It’s okay, baby. Let’s just get you inside. Pamela, find him!” Virginia ordered the coordinator with a pointed stare.

  Pamela might need a big tip too, even though she was already getting paid a small fortune.

  We shuffled inside, quickly shutting the door to the bridal room so Richard wouldn’t see Camille when he walked into the chapel.

  That is, if he walked into the chapel.

  Looking at the red-hot anger in her eyes, I wasn’t sure he’d want to see her first, anyway.

  Virginia consoled Camille in the corner as Nessa and I stood by the door.

  “Think he jilted her?” she whispered.

  “I’d like to say no, but I honestly have no clue what Richard might do anymore,” I answered. I wished I’d had my phone so I could text Iker, but Camille had banned them in the bridal party, just in case one of us got trigger happy on an Instagram photo before she could release the professionally edited ones.

  “Okay, he’s twenty minutes out,” Pamela said with a look of relief on her face. Obviously, she’d wondered if Camille was going to be jilted too.

  “The hotel is like...three minutes away. How the hell can he be so far away?” Camille snapped.

  “I believe there was an error in judgment about what time the men needed to begin getting ready,” Pamela answered.

  “AKA, Richard is hungover,” Nessa replied in a whisper.

  “Or already drunk again,” Phoebe agreed.

  Virginia left the room to go find my father, and I slowly crossed the floor to where Camille was pacing, fisting her hands in the fluffy tulle of her dress.

  “Stop,” I told her. “You’re wrinkling the material.”

  Surprisingly, she did as I commanded.

  Her chest shook as she sucked in a breath, and I smoothed out the skirt where she’d rumpled it.

  “Okay, that’s better,” I said softly, making sure her tiara and veil were still straight.

  “You must be loving this.” There was a sadness in her tone I’d never heard before, and more than a touch of fear that I picked up on.

  “Of course not,” I told her. “I have never wanted you to be unhappy Camille. Ever.”

  She blinked back tears. “I can’t believe he did this.”

  “Me either. But Richard is…” I shook my head, looking for the right words.

  “Selfish? Conceited?” she suggested.

  I laughed. “Yes, all that.” And then some.

  “I love him, though, in spite of...everything. We’re perfectly matched. We understand each other.” She glanced up at the clock. “The wedding was supposed to start fifteen minutes ago.”

  “It can’t start without you. And I’m glad you love him. It would be a shame to spend the rest of your life with the wrong person just to prove a point.” The door opened and Virginia hurried inside, my dad in tow. “Be happy, Camille. Because I’m going to be.”

  With those words, I retreated, leaving Virginia to fuss over Camille.

  “He’s here!” The relief practically exploded from Pamela’s voice.

  There was a flurry of activity, and then we all headed for the door as Pamela stage-whispered orders.

  “You look beautiful, Langley,” Dad told me, kissing my cheek as the music started up.

  “You look great in a tux, Dad.”

  He laughed, but ran his hands down the lapels. “I was talking with Iker out there. You know he could have worn his dress blues instead of a tux.”

  “I just wanted him to be comfortable.”

  “Trust me, soldiers are way more comfortable in uniform, even dress mess, than we are in these monkey suits.”

  That brought a smile to my face. “We, huh?”

  He shrugged boyishly. “He kind of reminds me of me when I was that age. What?” he said as I gaped at him. “He honestly does. The military is a great equalizer. Enlisted guys all start at the same level and work their way up on their own merit. It was the one time in my life it didn’t matter that I came from money.”

  “Or that Iker doesn’t?”

  “Exactly. He’s making rank fast, especially for his age. That says way more about his character than any trust fund could. You know, I was kind of worried the guy would run for the hills after last night, but he must be c
razy about you, because he’s still here.”

  I swallowed the tiny knot of deceit that tangled my vocal cords. He was here because I paid him to be. But was that really the only reason? I couldn’t be the only one feeling that this was more than just a transaction, not with the way he’d put his hands on me last night. It hadn’t been just sexual. At least, I knew it hadn’t only been sexual for me.

  “He’s a really good guy,” I managed to get out.

  Dad looked back to Camille, who stood with Virginia, their heads bent close in a conversation we couldn’t hear. She’d asked both Dad and Virginia to walk her down the aisle.

  “She really does look beautiful, doesn’t she?” I asked, nodding toward Camille.

  My father’s eyes softened, the expression lines deepening as he smiled. “She does. I do love her, though I’m starting to see that maybe I’ve been a little blind to the fact that she hasn’t loved you. There are going to have to be some changes.”

  I blinked back my own tears as the music swelled. It was nearly my turn. “It’s okay,” I assured him. “I’m happy as long as you’re happy.” I motioned to the door. “I think I’m on deck.”

  Pamela nodded, waving me closer.

  “I’m glad you’re here for her,” I told Dad. “Glad that she has you.”

  “Of course,” he replied with a serious nod. “After all, I had to practice so I can be perfect when the guy who’s actually worthy of you stands at the end of that aisle. This is just my trial run for the real thing one day.”

  I squeezed his hand, my words failing as tears threatened to form, and then I walked that perfect, peony-decked aisle, my eyes finding Iker, and staying there.

  He’d turned in his pew to watch me, his lips turned up, but no dimple.

  I nearly stumbled as I came closer to him. He was heart-stoppingly, panty-meltingly gorgeous, and even in a room full of elegant men in designer tuxedos, he stood out, because unlike other men, Iker made the tux look good, not the other way around.