by Peggy Hunter
Ally's hips rose higher, inviting his touch, begging for more. She moaned when he slipped two fingers inside her. “Stop,” she said, her voice weak with passion; her body begging him to continue.
His mouth scorched a path from her throat to her cleavage as his fingers probed harder, delved deeper, into her sweet, moist depths. “What was that? You'll have to speak a little louder."
Ally cried out when his free hand delved beneath her dress and pushed under her bra to cup her breast. She braced her heels on the grill of his car and drove her hips up to meet every thrust of his hand.
"Ah yes, babe,” he said against her breast as her juices seeped over his fingers. “I know what you need. Let me give it to you."
"I want it so much,” she breathed. “God, Randy, make me come."
Randy stilled for a moment, his fingers fell away from her as he raised his face to look her in the eyes. “Are you sure that's what you want?” he asked, uncertain he'd heard her correctly.
Ally's head thrashed back and forth on the hood of his car, her hair flying around her face as her hips rose, begging for his touch to return. Her eyes squeezed closed as her face contorted in anguish. “Yes,” she cried. “You're the only one who can do it. You have no idea how long I've waited."
Randy frowned as he peered down at her. He was tempted to press her further but feared doing so would draw her from the frenzy she was in.
Tilly's words flooded back to him. Strike while the iron is hot. Randy suspected Ally's sister wasn't talking about this very moment but he suddenly understood what she was driving at. And, he realized, his iron was white-hot.
His eyes remained on her face as his hands slid up her thighs and pulled her panties off. He tossed them over his shoulder and smiled at her. “Your wish is my command,” he whispered. Unlike the other night, she didn't get angry at his words. In fact, her heels dug deeper into the grill of his car as she let out a soft moan.
Randy's hands slipped under her thighs and curled around them. He lifted her toward him as he lowered his face to her core. She shuddered when his tongue grazed her slit, barely touching her. His hot breath fanned her pubic hair as his mouth opened over her.
Her breathing grew rapid and labored as she anticipated his touch. She moaned when his mouth closed over her, opening her core with his tongue.
"Hmm,” he hummed against her. “You taste so damn good. I could eat you whole."
Ally struggled to speak; her voice came in short gasps. “Be ... my ... guest."
Randy chuckled softly. “Why thank you,” he said. “I believe I will."
God, she's so damn wonderful. His body ached for more of her. He longed to take her to his bed; to spend all night showing her just how much she excited him.
He needed to show her just how desirable she was. To prove to her that only he could love her the way she deserved to be loved.
He removed his arms from her legs and lifted them over his shoulders. One hand moved to her slit and opened her wide as his tongue delved inside her.
Her long, sweet moan urged him on. As his mouth focused on her swollen clitoris, his fingers slid over her moist opening. Her tight inner core gripped the two fingers inside her.
Randy pulled his face away from her clit, quickly replacing his tongue with his other hand. He pressed and stroked her clit while his fingers plunged inside her.
"Don't hold back,” he whispered urgently. “I want all of you."
Ally didn't hold anything back. Her body thrashed against the hood of his car as her face contorted in sweet rapture. Randy felt the tension building, knew she was close to an explosive orgasm. His fingers delved deeper as he dipped his face between her thighs and closed his mouth over her clit, sucking and pulling, taking her to the point of no return.
When the tension reached the point of explosion, Randy suddenly ripped away from her. His breath labored, he held his hands to his sides and looked at her.
"No!” she cried. “What are you doing?"
"You were right,” he said. “This is wrong."
Ally blinked as she slowly rose onto her elbows and peered at him. “I don't understand."
Randy wiped her sweet juice from his mouth with the back of his hand. He wasn't sure he understood it either. He had to be insane.
"I'm doing you a favor,” he said. “You're engaged to another man. Hell, you're getting married tomorrow. You don't want me to give you an orgasm the night before you marry someone else, do you?"
"I...” Ally couldn't seem to find the words as she continued to catch her breath. She pulled her heels out of the grill of his car and stared blankly at him as she slowly slid off the hood.
And then fire lit her beautiful green eyes. Anger, coming from deep within her soul, slowly crept through her.
"You bastard,” she said through clenched teeth. “You miserable, self-absorbed weasel. You did this on purpose."
Randy grinned. “Of course I did this on purpose,” he said, self-satisfaction oozing from every pore of body.
"Payback.” Ally struggled to stand up straight as her eyes shot daggers at him.
"Not really,” Randy replied. “I mean, sure, I owe you for the bachelor auction but there's more to it than that."
Ally shook her head. “What more could there be?"
"How about the fact you're prepared to marry another man when you still want me?” Randy asked.
Ally struggled to pull her dress down over her hips. “That's bullshit,” she said. “I happen to love Sam very much."
"So much so that after fifteen years, you'd make a point of being the highest bidder at a bachelor auction just so you could see me again.” Randy cocked his head to one side. “That makes a lot of sense."
Ally's face burned crimson as she stepped toward him. She poked a manicured finger in his chest as she spoke. “For your information, Randy Gallagher, my marriage to Sam Ryan is none of your damn business."
Randy's hand closed over hers and held it tight. “As a matter of fact, you made it my business the second you showed up at the auction. I suspect you don't want to marry him at all. In fact, I'm sure you were hoping I'd talk you out of it."
Ally ripped her hand out of his grasp. She shook her head slowly. “My, aren't you full of yourself? You aren't nearly as wonderful as you think you are."
Randy chuckled again. “Oh really?” he said. “Five minutes ago, I could have fucked you within an inch of your life.” He raised his brows. “If I were marrying you, you wouldn't have a reason to seek out another man for satisfaction."
Ally sputtered and took a step back. She shook her head wildly. “You're an asshole, you know that?” she cried.
Randy grinned. “Maybe so,” he replied. “But at least I'm not screwing around on my fiancée the night before my wedding."
"Bastard! Go to hell,” Ally cried. She turned on her heel and began to walk back to the Club House.
Something caught Randy's eye. He bent to pick it up. “Hey, Ally!” he called.
She spun around. “What?"
"You forgot something.” He placed the elastic band of her panties over his thumb and stretched the silky fabric back. When he let it go, it flew through the air and landed at her feet. “You might want to put them on before you go back in to your darling fiancé."
Ally gasped and picked them up. He could tell she was fighting tears. “What do you want from me?"
"That's an easy question to answer,” he said. “All or nothing."
Ally's chin rose as she gazed back at him. “You'll have to settle for nothing,” she said.
Randy chuckled. “Since you're marrying a man you don't love, I guess you already have."
"Fuck you!” she cried as she made her way back up the dark path to the balcony.
Randy's cock protested against the fly of his jeans as he watched her retreat. Damn, I wish you had.
Chapter 6
"Where is your father?” Victoria howled from somewhere in the house. “Damn it, I can never find him when I need
him."
Tilly stood behind Ally and made a face in the mirror. “Can you blame Dad for hiding?"
Ally tried to smile as her sister struggled to place more bobby pins into her hair to hold the elaborate headpiece in place. She'd been in a state of disorientation since she walked away from Randy the night before. “I guess not,” she said softly, wishing she was wherever her father was right now.
"He's likely in the basement having a few stiff drinks,” Tilly said. She stabbed one last bobby pin into Ally's soft curls and took a step back. “There, that should hold,” she announced. “Let's hope it's not windy. Otherwise you'll probably be a real mess by the time we get you to the church."
Ally's eyes glazed over as she looked at herself in the mirror. The headpiece felt like it weighed a ton with its white pearls, glitzy rhinestones and yards and yards of white lace piled on top of her head. “I hate it,” she blurted out.
"Yeah, me too,” Tilly said. “But you're the one who let Mom make all the decisions."
"Well, you know what Mom's like,” Ally said as she carefully turned to inspect her sequined gown in the mirror. “She's not happy unless she's in control."
"Tell me about it,” Tilly said. “Why do you think I didn't come back home after college?"
Ally sighed. If only she'd had Tilly's strength. She couldn't allow herself to disappoint her mother. And look at her now. About to marry a man she didn't love.
Tilly threw herself on the bed and peered at Ally. “Where did you get to last night?” she asked, her eyes suspiciously veiled. “I came back with my drink and you were nowhere in sight."
Ally turned her head carefully, so as not to upset the insanely big headpiece, and looked at her sister. Tilly looked at the ceiling then cast her gaze to her fingernails. All she was lacking was the innocent whistle. Ally's brows narrowed. “Oh my God,” she said, her hand flying to her chest. “You set me up."
Tilly examined her palms. “I don't know what you're talking about,” she said.
The headpiece wobbled as Ally closed the distance between them. “Yes, you do,” she exclaimed. “You sent for Randy, didn't you?"
Her sister quickly rose from the bed, careful not to make eye contact with her. “I better get into that ugly purple dress before Mom gives up on Dad and starts on me,” she said as she walked to the door.
"How could you do this to me?” Ally cried as her sister opened the door.
Tilly didn't reply as she quickly pulled the bedroom door open and ran headlong into her mother.
"For God's sake!” Victoria's shrill voice echoed off the bedroom walls. “Get dressed, Matilda. We're leaving for the church in fifteen minutes."
Tilly looked back at her sister as she made a hasty escape. “Good timing, old girl,” she quipped.
Victoria moaned as she stepped inside the bedroom and slammed the door closed. “Your sister will be the death of me,” she lamented. “Why does she live to annoy me?"
Ally wanted to shake her head but feared the headpiece would topple off. “Because she knows she can, I guess."
"Selfish to the core, just like her father,” Victoria spat out angrily. When she cast her eyes over Ally, she clapped her hands against her chest. “You look absolutely divine, my darling. At least I have one child who shares my good taste."
"Yes, Mother,” Ally replied dutifully.
"Sit down in front of the mirror and let me adjust your headpiece,” her mother demanded.
Ally did as she was told and peered up at her mother as she pulled out and replaced the pins.
If only her mother could understand how miserable Ally was. There was a time she was certain everything her mother wanted for her was what she wanted for herself. Now, after seeing Randy again, she wasn't sure of anything.
When she'd finally gone back inside the Club, Sam quickly scolded her for being away for almost an hour. Didn't she know people expected them to be seen together? Ally attempted to take Sam aside. She wasn't sure what she'd have said but the opportunity had never showed itself. As one well-wisher after another offered their congratulations, Ally's nerve ran out.
She didn't want to hurt Sam; she didn't want to hurt her mother. Just two weeks ago, she was content with the wedding plans. If only she hadn't gone to the bachelor auction. If only she'd never laid eyes on Randy Gallagher.
"Sit still!” her mother cried. “I swear you're as fidgety as a rat in a snake pit. What will people think if you act like this at the wedding?” she scolded.
"I can't help it,” Ally replied. “I'm nervous."
Victoria grasped her daughter's shoulders and peered at her reflection in the mirror. “You're doing the right thing.” She gave Ally a gentle shake. “Don't doubt it for a second. Sam will give you everything you deserve."
Everything except real happiness. Ally smiled sadly. “Yes, Mom,” she said softly. “I know."
* * * *
"Well, child,” Jason Peters said as he tucked her gloved hand under his arm, “This is it."
As Tilly, her maid of honor, and the other bridesmaids, all of whom her mother had chosen, made their way down the aisle ahead of them, Ally looked at her father. “Dad?"
Jason turned his gaze to her. “Yes, pumpkin?"
"Am I doing the right thing?"
Jason's deep blue eyes clouded for a moment. “If you're not, you've picked the worst possible time to question it,” he said.
It wasn't the reply she'd hoped for. “Are you happy for me?” she asked.
His face softened. “My darling daughter,” he said. “No matter what paths you and your sister have chosen, I've always been happy for both of you."
Dear, dear Dad. He was as noncommittal as always. Ally knew it was the only way he'd managed to stay married to her mother for thirty-five years. Perhaps Ally was more like her father than her mother knew. Perhaps her marriage to Sam would be the same. Like her father, she'd let Sam lead, just as Victoria led her marriage all these years.
"It's time,” he said softly as he slowly led her down the aisle.
The next thirty minutes was a blur. Ally was vaguely aware of Sam slipping the ring on her finger. As she slid the ring on Sam's finger, she dutifully repeated the words the minister said.
And then, with the rings exchanged, Sam and Ally joined hands. Her head swam as Reverend Smith raised his voice, “Should there be anyone who has cause why this couple should not be joined in marriage, let them speak now or forever hold their peace."
Ally's ears pricked when someone coughed. She struggled not to look at the people crowded into the church.
"So,” the minister said, “by the power vested in me—"
"Uhm, now that you mention it, I might have a reason.” The words echoed off the walls of the church. People gasped audibly.
God, she knew that voice. Randy! Ally groaned as she turned to see the man standing in the back of the church. Randy Gallagher.
"What is the meaning of this?” Sam said sourly as he gazed at Randy and then at Ally. “Who the hell is he?"
Ally's eyes fell on her mother. She looked pale, almost ready to faint. Oh God. Ally's throat went dry, she couldn't manage a word as everyone gazed at the man slowly approaching the altar.
"Okay, I've voiced my objection to this marriage,” Randy said. “What comes next?"
The minister cleared his throat. “I have to admit,” he said, “in all of my forty years, I've never had anyone object before. I guess we need to discuss your reasons."
Dressed in tight blue jeans and a white t-shirt, Randy looked like a fish out of water amid all the pomp and pageantry of the wedding party and their guests. Yet as Reverend Smith hustled them to the closest door, Ally couldn't help but notice how tightly the t-shirt stretched over his sinewy torso.
When Sam, Ally and Randy were safely inside the reverend's office, he carefully closed the door and looked at the trio. “Now then,” he said as he rounded his desk and sat down. “Just what is the problem here?"
"That's exactly what I'd
like to know,” Sam said gruffly.
When Ally opened her mouth to speak, Sam grabbed her arm. “Be quiet, Allison,” he said as he nodded to Randy. “Let the man speak."
Randy stood a few feet away and tucked his hands into his back pockets, further stretching the light cotton fabric over his chest. Ally shivered and tore her gaze away from him, opting to peer out the only window in the office. She squeezed her eyes closed. Oh God. This isn't happening. This can't be happening! When I open my eyes...
"The fact is,” Randy said, cutting into Ally's thoughts, “I don't think this man,” he pointed to Sam, “is right for Ally."
Sam guffawed. “And you are, I suppose?"
Randy shook his head. “Well no, I'm not saying I am."
"Then what are you saying?” the reverend asked.
Randy pulled his hands out of his pockets and walked to the desk. “Look, Father—"
"Reverend,” the old man corrected.
Randy nodded. “Right, Reverend.” He pointed to the couple behind him. “Ally shouldn't be marrying anyone right now, least of all that guy."
Reverend Smith quickly raised his hand to stop Sam's protest before a single word had been spoken. His bushy grey eyebrows lowered. “You'll get your turn soon, Sam. Let the man speak.” He turned his attention back to Randy. “Why shouldn't Allison get married?"
"Because she's not ready,” Randy replied. “Just two weeks ago—"
"Oh please!” Sam exclaimed. “Just because she bought you at that ridiculous bachelor auction doesn't mean she shouldn't marry me."
Ally's head swam. Her hand flew to her throat as her heart hammered in her chest. “May I say something?"
All three men glared at her. “No!” they said in unison. Ally swallowed hard. Her blood began to heat.
Randy turned to Sam. “So you know what happened that night,” he said, “and you still want to marry her."
Sam raised his chin. “Of course I know,” he said tightly. “The local newspaper carried the full story. It changes nothing."
Randy raised an eyebrow and looked at Ally. “So you didn't tell him anything?"
Again, as Ally was about to speak, Sam touched her arm, a silent message to keep her mouth shut. “Of course, Ally and I discussed it."
