I’d met Royal a while ago when she’d taste tested a cake for me.
At the time, I hadn’t realized that it was her birthday, or that she was spending it alone.
But, when I’d contacted her a few days later asking her how she liked the cake, she’d replied. Then we’d hit it off, talking back and forth. And before I knew it, she’d become my taste tester and our friendship was born.
Now, we didn’t see each other all that much, but we did send each other hourly memes and talked on text message non-stop.
When she’d asked me to be her maid of honor, I hadn’t hesitated.
I agreed, though.
I wish that I wasn’t leaving her behind when I left. I wished I could pack her up and bring her with me.
But I knew that I would be seeing her a lot.
She’d married one of my childhood friends—though we hadn’t realized that Justice and I had been childhood friends when Royal had agreed to marry him. It was only later as we’d spent more time with each other and Royal’s new ‘significant other’ that we realized we were going to be much closer than we’d originally expected.
It’d all just worked out that way.
“Do you think it’s weird that I want you to marry Lock?” she all of a sudden burst out.
I blinked in surprise.
“What?” I asked.
“I purposefully paired y’all together,” she admitted. “I knew that you’d like him. I’m hoping that he seduces you into staying.”
I flushed at remembering his words about my dress earlier.
“Royal…” I started.
“Oh, I’m not expecting miracles,” she said. “I was just hoping that you might find a little inspiration in wanting to stay.”
I blushed.
“I want to stay,” I admitted. “I want to so badly…I just can’t keep working here and not making any money. I have to have a way to pay my way. And I’m not taking any of the money my father offered me. I just…I want to make it on my own.”
“You should look into driving to Tyler or something,” she said then. “They have a lot more people than we do. Or Shreveport even.”
I helped her stand back up after she was done, and then resettle her skirt.
“I applied in Tyler, Longview, Shreveport, and a few other places,” I explained. “I’m at a loss.”
She washed her hands and then turned to survey me.
“I don’t want you to go.” She frowned. “You’re my only female friend.”
I hugged her tight, and she hugged me right back.
She sighed.
“I want to take this dress off and burn it,” she finally admitted. “I’m so over it.”
“I’ll take mine off if you take yours,” I teased.
Her eyes lit up.
“Would you?” she asked, looking more eager than ever.
I frowned. “Royal, it’s your wedding. If you want to take your dress off, do it.”
She turned around and presented me with her back.
“Fuck yeah,” she said. “I don’t want to be in it anymore.”
“Do you have something to change into?” I wondered then.
“Yes,” she said almost immediately. “What I was going to wear to the airport.”
Once I had the ties down her back loosened enough for her to slip out of it, she pointed to the bag in the corner.
“Get me that,” she said. “Then go change, too.”
The idea definitely had merit.
“My bag is in my car,” I said.
“Good,” she said. “While you’re out there, go tell my husband he can change. I know that he has a change of clothes as well.”
And that was exactly what I did.
Going out to the reception hall where people were starting to gather, I looked around for Justice and found him talking to Lock.
“Is there a place I can change, too?” Lock wondered.
I nodded. “You and I can go to the groom’s changing area. I suppose you’ll be all right going to the bride’s?”
Justice grinned and hauled ass in the direction I’d just come from.
Moments later I saw him slipping into the dressing room.
“They’re about to do it,” I teased.
Lock’s eyes lit with amusement.
“Probably,” he said. “That’s likely why they put an hour between the wedding and reception.”
***
“If you don’t mind, I’ll change first. I have to take about eight thousand bobby pins from my hair, and I’ll do that while you’re changing.”
He eyed my hair.
“Why so many?” he wondered.
I shrugged. “My hair is heavy. It takes a lot more to do an updo for me than it does for every other girl. Where one girl can get away with one hair tie, I sometimes have to use three.”
He eyed my hair.
“Okay,” he said. “Use it.”
I grinned at him and headed to the bathroom, carelessly kicking the door closed behind me.
I heard the door close, but it kicked back open without my knowledge.
Which meant I had an audience as I hiked my dress up my legs and placed my foot onto the closest stool.
Skimming my hands up the dress, I clumsily unhooked the garter and the stockings from each other. Once that was done, I started on the shoe.
It was as I was starting on the second garter that I glanced in the mirror and saw Lock staring.
He wasn’t even shy about it, either.
I could make out his intense gaze through the six-inch gap in the door.
Licking my lips, I inadvertently started to draw it out, slowly skimming my fingertips down the length of my thigh.
My nipples pebbled when I saw his hand go to his crotch and readjust his cock.
I licked my lips and pushed my stocking down with slow, methodical movements, all the while keeping my eye solely on him.
Sadly, when my shoe came next, I lost his gaze because the shoes had the finest buckles that required paying attention to get them unbuckled.
When I looked up again, his gaze was no longer on mine, and I couldn’t see him through the crack in the door, either.
It was as I started to reach for the zipper of the dress that I realized I would need help to get out of the torture device.
Grinning, I walked to the door and looked out of the crack.
“Lock?”
He appeared out of the shadows.
So, he wasn’t completely not looking anymore, I just wouldn’t have been able to see him staring.
“Can you come here and unzip my dress?” I asked.
I watched him swallow hard, the bob of his Adam’s apple amusing.
“Sure,” he rasped, sounding as if he’d been asked to fuck me instead of unzipping my dress.
I smiled inwardly, loving his hesitance.
When he arrived at the door, I opened it even farther and stepped back. When he was fully standing in the door, I presented him with my back.
I felt the lightest of touches at the top of my spine, and my breath caught.
“Tiny fucking zipper,” he muttered, sounding slightly strangled.
He fumbled at it for a few moments, before I felt the zipper go down, and the dress start to gape.
Which was about the time I realized the dilemma I’d had this morning.
With the way the dress was made with the gap between the breasts, my bra hadn’t been minuscule enough to wear.
Meaning I hadn’t worn it.
Which had also caused another problem.
My breasts were barely corralled when I’d slipped the dress on, and I’d had to hold them in while Royal had to zip me up.
Therefore, the moment my dress started to loosen, my boobs screamed FREEDOM and flopped around like only big boobs could do.
The front of my dress hung forward, Lock finished unzipping me, and my breasts were then exposed to th
e world.
I made a move to catch them, to throw my arm over them, but again, my boobs were big. My tiny hands just didn’t do an adequate enough job covering them and an entire nipple was still exposed.
I gasped and looked into the mirror.
Lock’s eyes didn’t lock with mine, however. Not when he had a nipple to look at.
“Jesus Christ,” he hissed.
Then he was moving.
I was moving, too.
I wasn’t sure what happened or what I was going to do afterward, but for now, I was exactly where I wanted to be.
“Tell me to stop,” he ordered when our bodies met in a flurry of tangled limbs.
My dress sagged on my shoulders, and suddenly I found my ass sitting on the counter and Lock’s hips making room between my splayed thighs.
“I don’t want you to stop,” I said, grabbing his shirt and yanking him down.
Had he not wanted to come, he wouldn’t have. But it was obvious that he did want to. Otherwise he wouldn’t look tortured like he did right then.
“Touch them,” I urged, seeing him lift his hand but pause in midair.
His eyes lifted to mine. Then, he just…stopped being nice.
His hands moved, both going to cup my breasts in his large, rough hands.
I gasped when he squeezed, thumb coming up to pinch my nipple between his thumb and his pointer finger.
“Fuck,” I gasped, loving the way it felt with him touching me.
“This is probably the worst idea ever,” he murmured. “We barely know each other.”
“So?” I asked. “Aren’t you supposed to do this at weddings?”
He looked at me. “Are you still leaving tomorrow?”
My brows rose and my breath hitched.
“How do you know I’m leaving tomorrow?” I asked curiously.
I mean, I’d told him I was leaving of course, but I hadn’t told him when.
“I asked Justice this morning while we were getting ready,” he murmured, his eyes on mine.
I squirmed, surprised by the fact that I liked the way he was holding my nipples between his fingers but still able to hold a conversation with me. As if he wasn’t making me hot and bothered by what he was doing.
“Yes,” I answered. “Unless some miracle happens, then I’m leaving tomorrow.”
I didn’t think he liked my answer all that much, because his grip on my nipples tightened.
Then there was no more talking because his mouth was on mine.
My mouth parted, welcoming him, tangling with his as if he was meant to be there.
“Fuck me,” he groaned. “Fuck.”
I smiled against his lips.
“Fairly sure that’s what we’re about to do,” I teased, going in for another kiss.
“Door’s open,” he murmured.
I wrapped my legs around his hips, letting him know without words that he wasn’t going anywhere.
I had a feeling if I let him go, he wouldn’t come back.
So, I kept him exactly where I wanted him, right next to me, pelvis to pelvis now.
He growled, knowing exactly what I was doing.
“You want anybody to be able to see us?” he asked.
No. Not really. But I didn’t want him to leave and not come back.
“I want you to stop thinking so hard with that pretty head of yours and put it to better use by putting it between my legs,” I teased.
His eyes went hard for a moment, then he came to a decision. One that I certainly liked.
“That look on your face,” he said, leaning back and skimming his bare hands up the length of my thighs. “Tells me lots of things.”
“What kind of things?” I wondered.
“Mainly that you want me, even though you know it’s a bad idea.” He paused. “You want my cock. You want my mouth. How long’s it been?”
Ummmm, did I tell him the truth?
The way his eyes were watching me, though, I had a feeling he really wanted to know. And would be able to tell if I lied to him about it.
“Ummm,” I hesitated. “Does it matter?”
He tilted his head slightly, then grabbed onto my hips to yank them forward so hard and fast that my crotch slammed into his.
I gasped, my breasts bouncing with the move, and stared at him in surprise.
The surprise being the cock that I now felt solidly pressed against me.
“Not really, no,” he admitted. “But the fact that you’re hesitating in answering makes me wonder why. I’m curious by nature.”
I scrunched my nose up at him.
“You’re sure you want to know the dirty details of my past encounters when you’re about to be one of them?” I asked.
He snorted.
“I want to know. Tell me,” he ordered.
So, I did.
In great detail.
“It’s been about four years,” I said. “I lost my virginity to a man named Kell. He was awful, and I continued to let it be awful for about three months before I couldn’t take the awful anymore. It hurt so bad every time we did it that I haven’t wanted to repeat the process until you.”
His brows rose.
“Sex hurt?” he asked, his hands freezing on my hips.
“Yes,” I admitted.
“Was he rough with you?” He trailed his fingers back down my thighs, curving them around my front until he could skim the seam of my panties with his large fingers.
“I don’t know?” I admitted. “He’s the sum of my sexual experience. I know what he taught me. That’s it. Was he rough? Maybe. I don’t really know.”
His head dipped down once again, lips trailing down my jaw to curve around to my ear.
His whispered voice, lips moving against the shell of my ear, made goosebumps trail down my spine.
“I’m gonna have to be gentle, then.” He curved his finger under the seam of my panties, barely grazing my curls.
“I’m not breakable.” My voice caught.
“No.” He shrugged. “But I’m not going to be that guy that follows up your first sexual experience without taking care.”
I felt my face heat slightly at his words.
Then his finger moved until he could drag it through my wetness.
My breasts quivered in anticipation, and I leaned forward to drag them across his dress uniform.
“I saw you in this today,” I said. “And had instant fantasies. I daydreamed about taking this off of you throughout the entire service.”
His lips twitched as he pulled his fingers free and brought them to his mouth.
Then he went even further and licked them clean.
I bit my lip, watching the sexiest man I knew make mincemeat of me by one lone act that set fire to my blood.
“This uniform is hot,” he said. “Scratchy, and it makes me feel suffocated.” His eyes went unreadable. “But the idea that you like seeing me in it makes me want to stay in it forever.”
My heart soared.
“I don’t like the idea that you’re not going to be here tomorrow,” he started saying as he trailed the backs of his fingers down the tips of my breasts. “But I do like knowing I’m going to send you off with a bang.”
My breath left me in a burst of laughter.
“Literally,” I snickered.
He grinned right back at me, then started to remove his uniform.
I watched silently as he took off his uniform shirt, then his pants, followed by his socks.
Then, all of a sudden, he was standing there in his white boxer briefs, and I had way too many clothes on.
“I need to get this dress off,” I said as I slipped free of the counter.
He stepped backward, and I allowed my eyes to trail down his neck to his chest.
He had a smattering of red chest hair that I wanted to run my fingers through.
Would it be soft?
“Touch me,” he urged.
/> So, I did, letting my fingers trail over his warm, tight, muscled flesh.
He felt like silk underneath my hands.
How did he have such soft chest hair?
My finger trailed over one nipple, and he hissed.
“Your dress needs to come off,” he urged.
I grinned at him, then turned so that my back was to him all over again.
He finished unzipping the zipper and the rest of the dress fell to a puddle on the floor at my feet.
The expensive silk was kicked off my feet toward the toilet, likely getting disgustingly dirty in the process.
Not that I cared.
I wouldn’t be wearing it ever again.
Nor would I be…
Lock moved his hands to my hips and bent me over the counter.
My breasts pressed against the cool marble countertop, and I jolted with surprise.
My nipples pebbled even harder, and soon I was panting in anticipation.
“The first time I saw you at the baseball game, I wanted to fuck you,” he said, sounding slightly strangled.
I wiggled my hips against his body, and he growled, squeezing them tightly to get me to stay still.
But I didn’t want to stay still.
I had an ache that was growing increasingly worse the longer it took him to do whatever he was doing to me—torture would be my guess.
“You had a curl that’d escaped from the rest, and it was being blown by the wind. It kept getting stuck in your lip gloss. Every time you’d pull it away, it’d go right back. And I couldn’t stop thinking about what your hair would do if I was fucking your mouth.” He growled.
My breath hitched.
Now I wondered what it would do if he was fucking my mouth.
I wanted to try it.
Alas, I still had about ten thousand bobby pins in my hair, and so much hairspray that it likely wouldn’t be moving at all today.
No matter how rough he got with me as he was fucking my mouth, my hair was staying put.
I shivered, and goosebumps started to break out all down the length of my back and thighs.
“You like that?” he rasped, his voice sounding slightly strangled.
I didn’t see any use in lying.
So, I told him the God’s honest truth.
“If we weren’t at a baseball game, and I wasn’t on a date, I would’ve totally come onto you,” I told him. “That kiss you gave me for that Kiss Cam was the highlight of the last six months. I got more out of it than I do with my battery-operated boyfriends.”
Sinners are Winners Page 6
