by Lauren Dane
“It never behaves. Once, I had it blown out all straight and sleek. It was so pretty and within half an hour it was already curly again.”
He leaned in close. “I kinda dig it that your hair is so naughty.”
She laughed, but it was lower than it had been moments before. Husky, full of promise.
“What sort of deliciousness did you prepare today? I’m really hungry because I skipped breakfast to have room for your feast.”
She blushed and took the elbow he held out for her.
“Your brother is really suspicious.”
Mary looked up to catch sight of Cal giving them the stink eye. She sent him a raised brow. The man was there with his boyfriend and his girlfriend! He was going to give them a look? Puh. Leeze.
“Don’t mind him. He’s a dork.”
Damien laughed. “He’s your big brother. It’s his job to scare men away from his sister.”
Especially ones who looked like this one, Mary wagered. Then again, she bet Cal thought Damien was hot, even if he didn’t like that Damien was lusting after his sister. Cal had good taste.
The reception tent was so pretty inside. She headed for the table she’d been told to sit at, not at all surprised to find he’d been placed right next to her. That Gillian totally kicked butt.
He pulled her chair out.
“Like I said, your mother did a good job with you.”
He ducked his head a moment. “What do you mean?”
“You put your arm out for a woman to hold. You pull chairs out. Your compliments are genuine. Manners are something so many people take for granted or don’t think are important.”
He laughed. “Would you like a drink?”
“Yes. Sit. There’ll be people by with champagne and other drinks in a moment.”
He obeyed, scooting his chair closer to hers.
“What have you been up to this month?”
“Catering jobs. Prepping recipes for this and for the reception the label is doing for Adrian. What about you?”
“Oh! Food on the way.” He brightened and it flattered her to see the genuine interest he had.
The server saw her and made a beeline. She’d spent a great deal of time training her staff to be sure they served in the way she thought best, so Mary approved when they did it right.
He bent perfectly and she waited for Damien to peruse and then grab what he wanted. Mary nodded when they were finished and the server melted away.
The champagne hadn’t begun to flow yet, though. Hm. She looked around, waiting, and began to get antsy.
“Would you hate me if I disappeared for a bit to check on a few things?”
He grinned, putting his boot on her chair. “Yes.”
Surprised, she paused and then laughed. “Did Adrian or Gillian talk to you?”
He finished off a Thai chicken slider and rubbed his belly. “About what? Also, my god, I want to keep you in my pocket and hoard all your talent to make me food like this every day.”
Oh. My.
Some men complimented her looks. Or her hair, whatever. But to compliment her food? Well, that was the way to her . . . um, parts.
“So”—he paused to hold up the shot glass—“this is . . . ?”
“Sweet potato bisque. I should really get to the kitchen to check on something.”
“Are you fucking kidding?” He drank it down. “This is . . . If I come back, will you make me a whole pot of this?”
Her anxiety lessened again at his praise. “Yes, of course. It’s pretty easy to make. It’s one of Gillian’s favorites.”
Finally, several servers came through with trays of champagne and the sangria she’d made the day before.
He noted her attention on the servers with the drink trays. “Ah, you were anxious about the drinks?”
“They should have been out ten minutes ago. Before the food. Two people just got married. Everyone needs a glass of champagne.”
“It looks like they’re catching up now and everything is fine.” He paused to get them each a glass of champagne.
The server spoke quietly. “Had a mishap in the kitchen. Everything is back on track now.”
“What sort of mishap?” She stood.
“We couldn’t find the right glasses. But then we remembered you’d set them aside so we could find them easier. I’ve been told to promise you all is well.”
“Can I help?” Damien looked up at her as he sat and a shiver made her knees weak. What would he look like on his knees on front of her naked?
“I just need to be sure everything is all right. I’ll be back in a bit.”
He smiled, unfurling himself to stand very slowly, very close to her. “You like things your own way, don’t you?”
“I . . .” She gulped. “This is for Gillian. It needs to be perfect.” She hoped she didn’t get too breathy on that one, but holy cow. She could scent his cologne, feel the heat of his body. See the beat of his pulse at his throat. Her mouth watered to taste his skin right there.
Speaking of Gillian, her friend made her way over, hugging Mary tight as the server escaped, most likely to warn the kitchen she was on her way.
“You have that look, Mary Whaley. Who got in your kitchen and mixed up the flatware?” Gillian’s tease referred to a dinner incident and some salad forks. That’s when the no-one-in-my-kitchen-but-my-chosen-assistant rule came about.
“I’m so sorry. The champagne is late.”
Gillian smiled, taking Mary’s hands, squeezing. “Are you apologizing for something so silly? I see it’s all out now. Adrian and I just got in here. So I’d say it was perfect timing. Now we can all toast.”
“I want it to be perfect. You deserve it.”
Gillian paused, blinking away tears before leaning in to hug her friend. “You are perfect. You and Jules, Daisy, all of you have been so good to me. I’m so happy right now and you’re the reason. This is amazing. I already had one of those salmon things. Okay, so I had three, but that’ll be our secret.”
Adrian, Gillian’s brand-spanking-new husband, showed up, putting an arm around Gillian’s waist and hugging her to his side. Any time Gillian came into his view, his entire focus changed and there was nothing else in the world but her. Mary thought that was an entirely appropriate way to look at her friend, as Gillian happened to be awesome, gorgeous, smart, talented and absolutely perfect in every way. Like Mary Poppins. Only, you know, with a rock-star husband.
“Mary is trying to escape to go prod the kitchen staff.” Damien had a drawl when he spoke to Adrian. Hm. It wasn’t fake. Maybe just something he did around those he was totally comfortable with?
“And I was telling her everything was totally perfect and to have a lovely evening.”
Adrian kissed his wife’s temple. “I’m with Gillian on this. Sit. We’re joining you.” He held a chair out for Gillian and their friends also made it into the tent.
Soon the table was full of their close friends and family and she’d been urged to leave the kitchen to the staff and enjoy herself.
“A whole table of Delicious!” Jules grinned and held her glass high.
“Delicious?” Damien looked to Adrian.
“It’s what these gorgeous women refer to themselves as. It’s also the name of Mary’s supper club.” Adrian sipped the sangria and nodded. “And I should add, what this sangria is.”
“Jules needs to make a toast. Now that we all have champagne and everything.” Cal winked at Mary and she rolled her eyes.
“Me? Why not Brody? Brody is best man, that’s his job.”
Brody snorted and grabbed some of the stuffed dates. “I’ve got some for later.”
Jules stood and there was tapping and clapping and whistling until the room quieted down. “I’m told since I’m the maid of honor I’m supposed to do a toast.”
Mary knew that Jules had not only prepared a toast, she most likely prepared five or seven and practiced them all. Mary was organized. Jules was compulsively so. And this was about Gillian
, so it would have been incredibly important to Jules to get every last detail totally correct and perfect.
“Fourteen years ago, this woman moved into our neighborhood with her infant son. We went to check her out, as you do. And it turns out that while she was totally beautiful and had a great accent, she was sort of wary. Which would not do. At all. I wanted her to be my friend because she was awesome. So I just sort of . . . um, bugged her relentlessly until she finally just gave in and even better, shared that sweet baby with our group of friends. I’ve been fortunate enough to count Gillian as my best friend ever since. And that sweet baby is now a fourteen-year-old boy who is taller than his godmother.
“It makes me incredibly happy to see Gillian with someone who deserves her the way Adrian does. Though he had his moments and I wasn’t so sure we should let him have our lovely Gillian.” Jules winked and Adrian blushed at the memory to his not-so-stellar entrance into Gillian and Miles’s life. “But in the end, he proved himself to be the man Miles could be proud to call Dad and Gillian could call her partner in life. So let’s lift a glass to Gillian, Adrian and Miles—the Brown family.”
Mary held her glass aloft and took a drink, believing every word to be true.
“Stop now or I’ll start crying again.” Gillian took the handkerchief Brody handed her way, dabbing her eyes.
“It’s your wedding day, English. You’re supposed to cry.” Though Adrian’s eyes were pretty glossy too.
There was cake and laughter. Drinking and music.
Damien couldn’t stop looking at the back of Mary’s neck where the little curls had won free from the bun. He wanted to press kisses right there. Wondered if she was ticklish. Wondered what she tasted like.
They’d performed a few songs, from Adrian’s new CD, one he’d written for Gillian. Miles had played with them, and then did a song of his own for his parents. Damien liked these people and their strong sense of love and family a great deal.
When he’d finished up, they’d sat together again and he’d wanted her even more. She’d disappeared; he figured she’d gone to hound her staff again.
He and Miles had discussed music for a bit and finally, Damien had gotten an itch only she could scratch and he excused himself to find her.
3
The night had been full of magic. Mary hadn’t felt so light and carefree in ages. Things had been great with work and for her friends and this wedding felt like the capper on all that wonderful.
After the emotion of the music Adrian and Miles had dedicated to Gillian and the success of the food, she’d paused just at the large back porch to grab some alone time.
The air carried the scent of all the peonies decorating the entire space. Heady and sensual, it made her tip her head back to breathe deep.
“Well, lookie here.”
She opened her eyes slowly to take in the sight of Damien walking toward her. A slow, sexy lope, his features intent on her. It sent a shiver through her because, goddamn, he was delicious.
She smiled. “Hello there.”
He kept walking until he was just a breath away. “What are you doing over here all by yourself?”
“I snuck in to check on the food. Don’t tell Gillian or she’ll have my ass.”
He sucked in a breath that made her hold her own. He was going to say something, she could feel it. Something that would change everything.
“Your ass? Hm. Well, I’d rather have it than let anyone else get to it.”
A burst of heat flashed over her.
He got even closer, his hand at her waist. “I’d really like to get up in what you’ve got, Mary Whaley.”
She was absolutely sure he’d used that line before. She was, after all, not stupid and she’d seen him on the celebrity news dozens of times.
Didn’t matter. It worked. She liked him. And she liked what he said and how he said it. And she wanted to fuck him. Men got to do this stuff, why shouldn’t she?
She licked her lips as she thought about it.
And then he bent a little and brushed his lips over hers in a surprisingly sweet kiss. A kiss that deepened, hinted at what else he could do with that mouth of his.
She was slightly tipsy. Very happy. In a great mood. A hot dude just laid a smooch on her and he wanted to get down. As it happened, she liked getting down. He wouldn’t want to marry her the next day so he wouldn’t be underfoot as she got her business off the ground. It would be totally about fun and pleasure. No fuss, no muss.
Well, maybe some muss would be all right.
“All right. Make it worth my while, then.”
His grin made her tingle and she knew everything else he had was going to equally please her system. She’d totally have to confess this to Gillian when they returned from the honeymoon.
“Inside?”
Mary jerked her head toward the house. “Follow me.”
Like he’d do anything else? He walked behind her, taking in the sway, the pretty heels, the way her rebellious escaped curls brushed the back of her neck. Her neck, where he’d have his lips as soon as he could make it a reality.
He wanted her more than he’d wanted something in a long time. “I’m staying here. Just upstairs.”
Luckily, most everyone was still outside so it wasn’t so very hard to get up the stairs quickly and into his room, which thankfully had a lock on the door.
She turned and smiled, rooting him to the spot. Moonlight from the nearby window bathed her in silver. Music wafted from the party below. But it was just the two of them in this moment in time.
“I don’t even know where to start.” He suddenly felt shy.
“Well, let’s see.” She reached up to unpin her hair. It was longer than he’d remembered. “I seem to recall a few things about this sex stuff.” She stepped to him and took his arm, turning the wrist to undo his buttons there, and then the same with the other.
Then she loosened his tie, tossed it over her head and went back to the buttons on his shirt until she was able to push it off his body.
“Now then.”
He had to have her mouth right that very moment, so with one hand he cupped the back of her neck and with the other he pulled her against him. Her lips parted on a little gasp of surprise and he took advantage of that moment to lick that bottom lip and then slide into the kiss fully.
She tasted better than he’d imagined from that brief brush of lips outside. She was cherries and champagne. So fucking delicious and lush he wanted to roll around in her.
Mary nipped his bottom lip as her hands slid all over his upper body. Her touch was soft and smooth, even as she lit him up.
“Goddamn, baby. I want to lick every single inch of you.” And that wasn’t a lie. At all.
She unzipped her dress, letting it fall from her body, and he nearly swallowed his tongue at how perfect she was. Small. She couldn’t have been more than five feet and an inch, maybe two. Curves that made his mouth water. Gorgeous tits and a high, round ass.
He shook his head as he took a long look. “Today is clearly my lucky day.”
“You’re about to get luckier, so get those clothes off.”
He was beginning to get the feeling Mary Whaley was all kinds of dirty up under her pretty dress. “My day keeps getting better.”
He pulled his shirt off the rest of the way and couldn’t deny how awesome it was that her eyes widened and then went half-lidded. She took a few steps closer, reaching out to grab the waist of his pants and haul him the last little bit until they were skin to skin.
He closed his eyes briefly, bending to bury his face in that glorious mass of curls.
Until she flicked the button of his pants open and unzipped, pushing the material down, along with his boxers.
“Impatient.” Not that he was complaining or anything.
“Mmm hmm.”
He reached around her body to unhook her bra and trace over the ribbons crisscrossing the top of her panties. “These are . . . It’s like opening a present on my birthday.” But
he forgot whatever else he was going to say when he caught sight of them in the mirror. Hooking his fingers on the sides of her underpants, he pulled them down and she stepped from them.
But his face was level with her pussy and he thought that was a fairly good place to start.
She looked down, watching him on his knees. “Like déjà vu.”
He pressed kisses from one hip to the other before focusing on her. “How so? ’Cause I’d remember being here before. I’m certainly never going to forget it.”
She sucked in a breath as he licked across her belly button. “Earlier. You were sitting. I was s-standing.” Mary lost her train of thought for long moments as he drew his hands up the backs of her legs, stopping to tickle the backs of her knees.
“Hmm. I think I found a spot I’ll have to investigate.” He did it again and her legs nearly buckled. “Well now. Yes indeed. After. Or again. Whatever.”
He was beyond her imaginings. His upper body was banded by flat, hard muscles. Probably from the brutal workout of drumming the way he did. Tattoos covered his skin and she noted one of his nipples was pierced as well. She’d investigate in detail. After.
She nearly fell over when he breathed against her labia. Hot. So hot it sent shivers through her as she grabbed his shoulder to keep from dissolving into a puddle on the floor.
Then he picked her up like she was nothing, turning to place her on the edge of the bed. “This way I can still be on my knees when I eat this pretty, pretty pussy.”
Like she’d complain.
He turned his head to lick the side of her knee, wrenching a gasp from her lips. Then, just behind, which made her hot and wet, aching. Until that moment she hadn’t even really known it was one of her sweet spots. Not many men paid any attention to that spot, but hot damn, he did. Thank God for it.
Kisses up the inside of her thigh. The barest contact against her pussy and then kisses and licks down the inside of her other thigh until he got to the other knee.
“Goddamn. You’re easy for some back-of-the-knee action. I like that.”
She gulped, enjoying what he was doing to her. Each kiss and lick devastating her a little more and he hadn’t even really made contact with any of her best parts yet.
