KNOTTED: The Manhattan Bound Series, Book Three

by Juliet Braddock

  “You fucking pig!” Ben could hear Mandy bellowing. “With a fucking waitress? At your son’s best friend’s wedding?”

  “Amanda! What are you—”

  “No, you asshole! What are you doing?”

  Alone, with the painful echoes of his parents botched marriage tearing through the sound barrier at deafening decibels, Ben began to pace.

  “Fuckballs…” Ben muttered. “Just…fuckballs…”

  # # #

  “Oh, for fuck's sake, Drew!” Maxine squealed as Drew tugged her gown upward behind one of the oldest and largest trees on the opposite end of the tent. He'd stolen her away from their guests just for a few moments before they cut the cake. He was in quite a hurry that evening, even at the risk of leaving his own wedding reception a few minutes earlier than anticipated. “What the hell...”

  “I don't want anyone to see under this dress but me, little one,” he said. “And I have to get your garter off somehow...”

  Naturally, his hand slithered from her ankle, dragging so slowly up her calf and tickling over her inner-thigh in his efforts. He had damn near killed her patience—slaughtering it with his own stubbornness—and now Maxine simply couldn't wait a second longer.

  As he hooked his finger inside the tiny slip of lace and elastic strapped around her thigh, Maxine just groaned. Little did she realize that she wasn't the only one concerned about orgasms outside on the lawn that evening.

  While his hands smoothed the garter so slowly down her leg, Drew's voice rasped against her ear, “It has been seven...very long days...since I've been inside you. Let’s make this quick.”

  “You've cracked!” she muttered victoriously.

  “Not yet, little one. But soon. Very soon...”

  “Two more dances,” Maxine breathlessly challenged him. “They're playing our song right now...and I have another little ditty to which we must dance before we go...”

  “So this is your game now, Mrs. Kirk-McKenzie? Making me wait?” he challenged, but Maxine could sense that smile on his lips even in the dark. “Game on, Captain...I've survived a week—so patiently, I might add—unlike some people. What's a few more minutes?”

  As Drew shoved the garter into his pocket, they returned to their reception, both feeling just a little flushed. Meanwhile, that oh-so-familiar funky groove of Daft Punk's “Get Lucky” multiplied the energy on the crowded dance floor. And Drew let her know just how hard he was as he returned to Maxine’s side and he pumped his hips against her.

  “Really, Mrs. Mack?” he taunted. “Another song after this one?”

  “Umm...” To the mere observer, Maxine was clearly keeping up with her husband's leading moves, but he could see that look in her eyes...those telltale signs that she was about to sacrifice every last detail of the night just to sneak back to that little cottage with him. And then, as she hooked her leg around his waist, practically aligning her very agitated clit right against the thickness of his cock. “Suffer, Mack.”

  “Can't even behave on our wedding day, Maxine,” he shook his head. “Oh, how you're going to be punished next week...”

  “Bring it on, Kind Sir,” she whispered, pressing even closer.

  “Our parents are watching,” he endeavored, but not so convincingly, to deter her.

  “Oh, they're all drunk,” Maxine said. “And your mother’s high on grandbabies right now.”

  “That was certainly a great wedding gift, wasn’t it?”

  At the cutting of the cake, which boasted four ruffled tiers of sugary hydrangeas cascading up the side panels, he so tenderly stroked her hand with the tips of his fingers while they both held the knife. Maxine, though, had plans of her own for those creamy tufts of blue flowers.

  After slithering her manicured finger along the side of their slice, she left a dollop on his nose before spreading the icing in a serpentine pattern over his lips and down to his chin, making sure she filled in his dimple.

  Never one to back away from a dare, even a silent one, Drew swiped his own finger over the icing and held it up before an ever-curious Maxine. “I'll raise you one cheekbone...” he slathered the now gooey mess over his target. “And one jaw line...” Nearly the entire right side of Maxine's face was covered with smeared blue hydrangeas, and she just knew that Drew was going to take his sweet time licking them off.

  As he filled his mouth with the icing from her face then drifted his lips toward hers, he jeered, “I bet you don’t make it to the cottage...”

  “Oh, but Kind Sir…I must toss my bouquet...and you must get rid of that garter,” Maxine reminded him.

  “You've given up on that last dance?”

  Reaching for the sphere of hydrangeas beside them on the table, Maxine turned with a smile and said with confidence, “No chance...”

  On her merry way, she literally ran into Jeffrey, who seemed a bit aloof to all of the action surrounding them. In fact, he looked as if Maxine was the last person he wanted to see.

  “Hey, where’s my Benjy?”

  “Uhh…in the bathroom, Max. Spilled something…his shirt…gotta run to help him…”

  Maxine didn’t like his explanation, but she had no choice but to carry on without them. It was growing late—as was her collective patience to get to the after party.

  On cue with Adam’s nod, the deejay cleared the dance floor before powering up Beyoncé’s “All the Single Ladies” so that Maxine could toss her bouquet. She really loathed that song, but she was far too tipsy on both champagne and Drew to care.

  Into Jillian’s hands the bouquet fell, and Maxine couldn’t resist a hug for her dear friend—and now soon-to-be sister-in-law. Of course, she’d been aiming for Jillian, and everyone knew. However, not a single soul seemed to care.

  And prepped with the knowledge that Adam had paid off the deejay to stick around for another hour, Drew could no longer be bothered with pomp and circumstance. Ignoring the call for all of the single gents to gather to catch the garter, he simply strolled over to Adam in the middle of the crowd, and attempted to stretch the slip of lace around his brother’s thick skull.

  “Your turn, buddy...” Drew said, relenting and hanging the garter from Adam’s ear.

  “Hey, I—”

  But Drew was already off to find Maxine on the floor, and swept her against him for their last dance of the evening, “Kiss Me” by Sixpence None the Richer.

  It was just a sweet, silly, sentimental song that Maxine remembered hearing on the radio when she was a child, as Tom would drive her to school in the morning. While it stuck with her all those years, she never thought that one day she’d play it at her own wedding.

  “Only you could find a song that begs for kisses and reminisces about a dilapidated treehouse, little one,” Drew‘s lips murmured against her hair as he just held her close, imbibing her sweetness.

  “You’ve settled down, Mr. McKenzie?” she teased as he spun her about, oblivious to everyone around them.

  “No, I just decided I should stick it out so that I could win this bet,” Drew retorted. “Looks like I made it through the reception in its entirety. I won...”

  “Nah,” Maxine's euphoric daze glazed over her eyes as she gazed upward at Drew. “I think we both did.”

  “Hope you know the back alleys of Paris, little one,” he baited her with that wicked grin she so adored.

  “I’m a quick study...”

  And as the chorus played on into the accordion solo in the middle of the song, Drew claimed Maxine’s lips and gave her just what she wanted, unabashedly without concern for anyone but each other.

  Exhausted but so very sated with joy, Tom stood just a few feet away from his newly married daughter and tucked Vicki under his chin.

  “You want a kiss, Doc?” Tom whispered in her ear.

  Puckering up as she turned to face him, she whispered back, “Don’t mind if I do...”

  “Well, hell...if Tom and Vicki are doing it...come here, my pregnant goddess...” And with that Adam McKenzie pulled a cac
kling Jillian close and didn’t let her go until the song was long over and his brother and sister-in-law were ready to make their grand exit.

  As his own favorite song separated his lips from his beloved, Jillian wrapped her arms tighter around Adam’s girth, snuggling closer. Soon, they’d be married, too, and it was time that she embraced his love of all things Coldplay.

  In Adam’s eyes, it was a grand moment—bordering on mystical—as Drew scooped Maxine into his arms and carried her out the door with the thundering orchestrations of the most glorious pop song ever penned playing out so powerfully. All the while, at long last, he held his own lady so very close.

  “Viva la vida, Miss Jillian...”

  “Viva la vida, Adam,” she returned. “Viva la vida...”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Underneath the sparkly April night sky as they made their silly way down that steep hill to the guest cottage, Maxine kissed and clung to her husband. “Wedding Sex...”

  “Bet it’s better than Treehouse Sex...”

  Fuck, Mack, don’t drop your wife, he thought. It’s dark out here and steep and bumpy.

  “I wouldn’t know yet...”

  “Oh, I’m sure it is,” he assured her. “In fact, I’m positive it is...”

  Somehow, Drew finally made it to the cottage, wondering all the while if Maxine could sense his own wedding night jitters. He, too, felt as if he were about to lose his virginity all over again with this wonderful lady he’d just married. As he traipsed with her up those short steps to the porch, he refused to sigh with relief until he made it through the front door.

  Suspended above the creaky floorboards in Drew’s protective embrace, Maxine returned the sweet, delicious touch of his lips beneath the soft glow of the porch light. She could hear the gulp as he swallowed, swinging her around.

  However, Drew’s concerns continued to flourish. He was determined to carry her over the threshold, and he hoped that the cleaning crew hadn’t forgotten to leave the door unlocked when they were finished cleaning up Adam’s messes from the week.

  Managing some slick hand maneuvers, Drew turned the knob and somehow slipped inside with relative ease, only to kick the door closed.

  As he spun her around in the small foyer, Maxine squealed and swatted her feet, kicking her shoes so carelessly to the floor. Neither one of them had felt so carefree—if not invincible—in their lives.

  Ever so delicately, he eased her down, his lips capturing hers once more. Weaving her fingers into his thick curly hair, Maxine consciously knew she was drifting into that realm where only Drew existed—that mystifying place where only the touch of his hands, lips, fingers and breath mattered.

  Kissing Drew, Maxine had decided, bordered on divinity. Just that unabashed exploration of lips, tongue, and teeth—suckling, pulling, biting—as they completely lost themselves like two teenagers making out in the backseat of a car.

  Maxine’s eyes reflected every ounce of love and desire in her soul, as she reached up for his bowtie, gingerly pulling it loose from the fold of his shirt collar. He still looked as pristine as he had when he stepped out beneath that gazebo that afternoon.

  Effortlessly, he turned her around and delicately brushed her hair to the side, clearing a space to kiss her neck. “Wear it up for me tonight?” he asked.

  “If that’s what you want, my love,” she said, shivering from the ticklish play of his mouth against her sensitive skin.

  Easing around her waist, his hands reached to untie the satin sash of her gown, then allowed it to drop to the floor along with her shoes and his tie. He then smoothed one hand over her tummy and down her thigh, catching the lace of her dress in his fingers, and pulled upward until he’d lifted the front of her skirt.

  And while he worked the tiny, covered buttons—all fucking thirty of them—while his other hand so stealthily slipped between her legs.

  “Your panties are drenched, Mrs. Mack...”

  Playing coyly, she murmured as she bumped against his fingers, “Really?”

  “My little virgin,” he whispered. “So much to teach you this evening...”

  “Mmm...hmm...”

  “Come for me right now—against my hand, little one,” he commanded, while his fingers worked over her, against her...inside her. “And don't stop...”

  His gentle order, alongside her pinnacle of sexual frustration from their hiatus, catapulted her into an orgasm like none other. The tremors rippling throughout her body caught her in their ferocious currents, bathing her in exquisite pleasure. She couldn’t get close enough—couldn’t feel his fingers deep enough inside her. Like always, she wanted more...

  The sight of Maxine trembling in orgasm while she still wore her wedding gown only fueled Drew’s own excitement. As she tossed her head back against his chest, Maxine writhed in the circle of his arms. Every tickle of his fingers carried her to a higher echelon of excitement.

  “Oh, such a good girl...” His voice calmed her, as his lips passed over her long, graceful neck. “I almost don’t ever want to take you out of this dress.”

  “Have to...” Maxine sputtered, nearly fainting under the pressure of the pleasure that he'd denied her for days. “Dress off...still coming...”

  “Almost finished,” he whispered, his fingers now soothing the nerves he so intentionally struck. “That's it...ride it out, little one. Oops—one more?”

  “Yes...ohhhhh...please…”

  He wanted nothing more at that moment than to just crawl under her gown and lick her completely dry, but he held them both in check, just waiting...

  “Tiny orgasms can be just as delicious as the big ones, Maxine,” he said, as she arched her back against him. He had to speak his thoughts out loud. “So beautiful...coming in your wedding gown. So fucking virginal...”

  Turning her then to face him, he kissed her so methodically, with each movement of his lips endeavoring to still her. Against her hair, his lips curled into a smile. Drew was in no hurry. This was their wedding night, and he couldn't fuck things up. Perfection was non-negotiable.

  “Thank you for marrying me,” he said to her, his thumbs stroking her temples.

  “No, Drew...” she placed her fingers over his lips. “Thank you...”

  In a rare moment, Drew found himself absolutely thunderstruck. As much as he loved showering her with love and attention, she reciprocated to every last degree.

  “Have to get ready for you...” she broke the silence.

  But Drew shook his head. “Not alone, little one,” he insisted. “You've been drinking...you're nearly in subspace...I'll give you a bath, and then you can dress for me...”

  With a quiet smile and a nod, she acquiesced, then accepted his hand as he led her through the bedroom, toward the master bath.

  As Drew went about his business, drawing her water, Maxine took one last look at herself in the full-length mirror in the corner of the room. Her hair tumbled about her shoulders...her makeup had begun to fade...and that beautiful dress was one wrinkled mess.

  Then in the reflection, Maxine saw Drew, slipping out of the bathroom and closing the door to keep the warmth inside while the water continued to run. Stealing not so secretly up behind her, he wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled the top of her head. In the mirror, they grinned at each other.

  “Did you have fun today?”

  “Let's see...the most magnificent woman in the world married me this afternoon...” he said, sliding the wisps of lace capped over her shoulders down her arms. “We had an amazing dinner with the best of company.” Those little sleeves dropped to her wrists, and he carefully freed her hands. “I spent most of the night dancing with that gorgeous wife of mine.” Down fell the underlying silk bodice to her dress, stopping at her waist, allowing him the chance to nearly rip off her bra. “My brother and his girlfriend relieved us of Grandbaby Duty…”

  Drew caught his breath so fiercely that he thought he just might get his own case of the hiccups. “Yeah, Maxine,” he said, “it was a prett
y grand day...”

  “And you liked my treehouse song?”

  “Sweet little one,” he said, his lips suckling on her shoulder as he gave one final tug that shimmied her dress to the floor, “I loved your treehouse song...”

  Now so very shyly, she turned in his arms and buried her face in his chest, nuzzling in between his tuxedo jacket and shirt. Seeing herself nearly nude in the mirror, wearing nothing but her jewelry and a wisp of lace panties, left her suddenly chagrined.

  She was his innocent, and his eyes glazed over her as if he were looking at her for the very first time. His fingers passed over her ears and down her earrings, then drifted toward her collar. Without question, that choker held just as much significance as her wedding ring. When she accepted that gift, she didn't just acquiesce to her submission—she affirmed her commitment to him and to their relationship…and to their lifetime together.

  “So pretty, Maxine,” he murmured. “But we have to take it off now...”

  “No, please...” she insisted.

  “Bath time, little one...” he reminded her, those skilled fingers unclasping the collar, then her bracelet from Tom and the earrings. “Can't mess these up...”

  “I need to dress for you...”

  “Surprise me,” he said, scooting her along with the poke of his hips.

  Taking both of her hands, he held on to Maxine as she climbed into the huge, slippery porcelain tub, and clutched her tightly as she dipped beneath the frothy, lavender-scented bubbles. Once she was settled, splashing about, he removed his tuxedo jacket and then rolled up his sleeves.

  “Cover yourself!” he teased her, building two mounds of bubbles over her taut little breasts. “Have we no shame?”

  “Of course, I do...” she said, sitting up and filling her own hands with bubbles that she slathered over his entire face.