The Best Bride

by Susan Mallery

  “Stop thinking about it,” he told her. “It’ll be fine.” He pulled her to her feet and slammed the car door shut behind her, then tugged her along to his back door.

  “I’m not nervous,” she lied.

  But once she was standing in his living room and he released her hand, all her doubts crashed in on her. It was as if Kyle’s touch kept her insecurities at bay, but as soon as she was by herself, she began to question everything.

  “You want some champagne?” he asked as he headed for the kitchen.

  Champagne? In the middle of the afternoon? “Ah, sure.” Oh, God, she was out of her element. She should have known. She should have never agreed to this.

  She crossed the room toward the stone fireplace. There were several photos on the mantel. Kyle with his brothers, Travis and his family, Craig and his kids. Happy pictures. No women who weren’t related. That was something.

  There was a slight popping sound as the cork was released. Sandy flinched. She continued to stare at the photos as if her life depended on memorizing them.

  She sensed the moment he entered the room. He didn’t make any noise, or say anything, but she knew he was there. Behind her. Waiting.

  “There’s something you should know,” she said, touching her finger to one of the wooden frames. She smiled at the picture of Kyle graduating from the police academy. How handsome and strong he looked in his uniform. “I’ve only ever done it, you know, the boring way.”

  “Okay.”

  “I mean, there was this one guy in college, but it was only a couple of times, and frankly I didn’t like it very much. It was better with Thomas. At least I figured out what all the fuss was about. Sort of.” She could feel herself blushing, but she had to get it out. It was only fair. Otherwise, he would be disappointed. She wanted him to know up front. So if he didn’t want to anymore, she would know why.

  “I know that you’ve been with lots of women,” she continued. “I’m not sure I could, um, keep up. Or do anything strange. I’m not very adventurous. And I’ve had three children. I’ve got stretch marks.” She thought about telling him that her breasts were a little saggy, too, but didn’t think he would want to know that in advance. Maybe he wouldn’t notice. If she was on her back when she took off her bra, it would be hard to tell, wouldn’t it?

  She cleared her throat. “So I’m sure you’re thinking this is a bad idea. I wouldn’t blame you. Really.”

  She heard a clinking sound. She thought he might be putting the champagne glasses on the coffee table, but she didn’t want to turn around and see.

  “I thought you were beautiful the first time I saw you and I still think that,” Kyle murmured.

  From the sound of his voice and faint puff of breath on her cheek, she knew he was standing right behind her. “But I’m not like them,” she said, staring at the rocks that stretched to the ceiling. She touched their rough surface.

  “Like who?”

  “Those other women that you’ve been with. I don’t know what you expect of me.”

  He put a hand on her shoulder and forced her to turn. She wanted to close her eyes, but she knew that was too cowardly. She would just have to face him and get it over with. She swallowed hard, then looked at him.

  His face was taut with an emotion she could only describe as need. The corners of his mouth tilted up slightly, but his eyes burned with fire. He was close enough to touch, close enough for her to see the smooth line of his jaw, close enough for her to wonder if he’d shaved just before leaving with her to drop the kids off for camp. The thought pleased her.

  He kept his hand on her shoulder. “What do you expect of me?” he asked.

  “Huh? I don’t expect anything.” Well, except maybe that it was going to be wonderful between them.

  He reached up and pulled the headband from her hair, then slipped his fingers through the loose strands. “I don’t have any secret tricks. I won’t do anything you haven’t done before. There aren’t going to be any surprises.”

  Ha, she thought grimly. He hadn’t seen her naked.

  He startled her by frowning. “No doubts, Sandy. They’re not allowed. I’ve been waiting a long time for this moment.”

  She searched his eyes. “This isn’t just about your crush, is it?”

  “Of course it is. It’s also about how I feel about you now, today, with both of us adults. I can’t forget the past, but that’s not all it’s about.” He smiled slightly. “Why can’t you believe you turn me on?”

  She felt the color flaring again on her cheeks. “I’m not the type who inspires grand passion.”

  He grabbed her hand and brought it to the fly of his jeans. She could feel the hard length pressing against her. “Who do you think inspired this?” he asked.

  She squeezed him gently. Maybe it was real, she thought to herself. Maybe he did think she was attractive and maybe he really did want to make love with her. Maybe it was going to be all right. He certainly wasn’t lying about his desire. It was hard to fake that large an arousal.

  She rubbed her palm up and down the length of him. She swayed toward him, suddenly eager to find out how he would feel inside of her.

  He groaned, then pulled her hand away. “I have two things to say.”

  She could feel the desire lapping at her body. It was faint at first, the slightest of tugs, but as she stood in front of him, staring at his perfect body, it grew until it was a riptide threatening to pull her under.

  “Are you listening to me?” he asked.

  “Uh-huh.” Why was he talking so much?

  “First, I haven’t been with lots of women. Some. A few. In this day and age, it would be crazy to be indiscriminate. Second, I’m using protection.”

  She blinked. The desire faded in the reality of his pragmatic statement. “Protection?” Oh, God, she’d forgotten. After Nichole had been born, Thomas had taken care of birth control permanently. She hadn’t had to think about it anymore. But Kyle wasn’t Thomas and this was the nineties. “Protection?”

  “You just said that.”

  She turned from him and started for the door. “I can’t do this.”

  She got all the way to the entrance to the kitchen before she realized he wasn’t going to stop her. She paused and glanced back at him. He was still standing where she’d left him, in front of the fireplace. Her gaze lowered to his bare feet. While he’d been pouring the champagne, he must have also taken off his cowboy boots. She’d never thought of a man’s feet as sexy before, but she liked Kyle’s. They were broad and strong. Like him.

  On the coffee table, bubbles floated to the surface of the tulip-shaped glasses. She looked at him. He was waiting. Patiently. It was her decision.

  “You’d let me walk out?” she asked.

  “If that’s what you want. No being swept away this time, Sandy. No excuses. If you want to make love with me, stay. If you’re not sure, you should go.” With that, he picked up the two glasses and carried them into the bedroom.

  At least she assumed it was the bedroom. She’d never explored his house before. She stood there in silence, wondering when she’d become such a wimp. This wasn’t a difficult decision. Of course she wanted Kyle. All that was holding her back were her own insecurities. And a faint voice that whispered she would be in big trouble if she was foolish enough to fall for him.

  She was a grown woman. In all her thirty-two years, she’d never reacted to a man the way she reacted to him. No one had ever left her breathless before. She’d spent her whole life playing it safe, doing the right thing, the expected thing. For once, she’d promised herself to walk on the wild side. She raised her chin slightly and started after him.

  There was a short hallway. On one side was an open door leading to a bathroom. On the other, a second door stood open. From where she was standing, she could see a dresser and the foot of a brass bed. Light filtered in through open-weave drapes of blue and rust. She stepped into the room.

  It was a man’s room. Large pieces of wooden furniture
lined the wall. A dresser, a highboy and two nightstands. An overstuffed blue chair filled one corner. A rust-colored comforter had been pulled back, exposing cream-colored sheets. Kyle sat on one side of the king-size bed. He’d removed his shirt. Sunlight caught the smooth skin of his bare shoulders and highlighted the hair on his chest. Sandy’s fingers curled into her palms.

  He reached for the two glasses he’d left on the nightstand and handed her one. She crossed the room and took it from him. He didn’t want her swept away. He wanted her aware of everything that was going on. Her breath caught in her throat. That wasn’t going to be difficult. No way she could think about anything else.

  She took a sip of the cool liquid. Bubbles tickled her nose and the back of her throat. She’d forgotten how much she liked champagne. He drank also. She watched his throat as he swallowed. The air in the room heated, as if someone had turned on the furnace. Or maybe it was just being so close to him.

  Her gaze traveled over his bare chest. She wanted to touch him, taste him. She wanted to feel him next to her without the encumbrances of clothing, or worrying about privacy or interruptions. Her breathing increased.

  Kyle took the glass from her and set it down next to his. Before she could figure out what he was going to do, he’d already reached for the hem of her T-shirt and was gently tugging the garment over her head. Thank goodness she’d had the foresight to put on her best underwear. Her bra and panties matched, probably for the first time in her life. They were both a pale pink with a print of roses woven into the fabric. The bra gave her a little extra support and made her looked chesty. She hoped Kyle appreciated her silhouette. She hadn’t had dessert since she’d decided to send the children to camp and then indulge with Kyle. She’d been doing sit-ups, but doubted two weeks of diligence made up for years of neglect.

  With practiced ease, without even turning her around or glancing behind her, he reached for the button and zipper of her denim skirt and unfastened them. A quick tug had that garment pooling around her feet.

  “You’ve done this before,” she said without thinking.

  He grinned at her. “Once or twice.”

  Then he reached for her bra. She wanted to stop him. Her breasts weren’t as perky as they had been when he’d fantasized about them sixteen years ago. If he even had fantasized about them. Instinctively, she crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Wouldn’t you rather I was lying down?” she asked.

  He raised his eyebrows.

  She realized what she’d said and wanted to die. Right now. If the floor would just open up and swallow her. But it didn’t. “What I meant was…”

  He waited, watching her, grinning that damn knowing smile of his.

  “Fine,” she said through gritted teeth and reached for the back fastener. “I’ll just take it off. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She unhooked the bra, slid it off her arms, and glared at him. Then she bent over and jerked her panties down to her ankles, then stepped out of them.

  “Are you happy?” she asked. “Look.” She brushed her palm against her belly. There were faint lines from her pregnancies. “I’m marked, wrinkled—” She pointed to her breasts. “Definitely past perky. I could probably stand to lose ten pounds.”

  This was awful. The most embarrassing moment of her life. “I’m going home now,” she said and started for the door.

  “Naked?” Kyle asked.

  She reached the doorway and stopped. “You’re supposed to stop me. You’re supposed to lie and say all those things don’t matter, that I’m really the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen.”

  As if her humiliation wasn’t complete, she could feel tears burning in her eyes. She never cried. She refused to start now. About this.

  “Are you done?” he asked.

  She sniffed. “I think so.”

  “Good.”

  She shrieked as he came up behind her and lifted her in his arms. She supposed most women reacted well to being carried, however she didn’t like the feeling of being up in the air. She clung to Kyle’s neck until she was probably choking the poor man, and kicked her feet as if that would help propel them the short distance to the bed.

  He knelt on the mattress and lowered her. When her head touched the pillow, he stretched out beside her. “What happened to Sensible Sandy?” he asked.

  “I think she got packed with the kids’ stuff by accident.”

  “I like this Sandy, too.”

  “Really?” Her mouth twisted. “You’re just saying that because you’re afraid I’m going to cry.”

  “Are you?”

  His dark eyes promised her the world, yet she was afraid. “Maybe.”

  “Only tears of joy,” he said quietly and reached for the champagne.

  She expected him to take a sip, or offer her one. Instead, he held the glass over her midsection and tipped it until a stream of bubbly liquid poured onto her belly. The shock of cold made her jump.

  “What are you doing?” she asked. “It’s wet.”

  He grinned.

  Kyle rose to his knees, then bent over her. He licked at the champagne. She stared at him in disbelief, then collapsed back on the pillows. It was a contrast of temperatures and textures. The bubbles tickled, his mouth was smooth. The champagne cooled her skin, his tongue heated her to melting. He drank the liquid from her belly, licking the last drops from around her hipbones, then he moved between her knees and stared down at her.

  “You still doubt,” he said, then held out his hands. She glanced at his fingers, then looked closer. They trembled.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Because it’s you. It’s always been you.”

  The beauty of his face made her heart beat faster. He was male to her female, experienced to her awkwardness, and she wanted him more than she wanted to draw her next breath. For some reason she would never understand, he also wanted her. He thought she was special. Perhaps it was the past, or some combination of chemistry. Perhaps it was just dumb luck. Whatever the reason, she, an ordinary woman with nothing special to set her apart from the thousands of other ordinary women in this world, had worked magic on him. She made him tremble. Saggy breasts and stretch marks, three kids and a slight need to organize the world. She was done trying to explain it away. If he wanted her that much, far be it from her to deny him.

  She opened her arms and spoke his name.

  She was all he’d dreamed she would be, Kyle thought as he lowered himself to kiss her. She tasted of champagne and promises. She was hot and willing, tentative and bold, all things. She was his world.

  He angled his mouth and sought entrance to hers. She parted for him. When his tongue touched hers, he felt the jolt clear down to his groin. His arousal surged painfully against the fly of his jeans. He would keep them on until the very end. He’d been ready since the moment she’d agreed to send her kids to camp. He’d been anticipating this moment since he’d woken up that morning. He had a bad feeling that if he took his jeans off, he would be compelled to plunge inside of her and explode like an adolescent. He wanted more than that for her. He wanted to be perfect.

  To that end, he kissed her slowly. He touched her shoulders and her arms, rubbing his palms up and down on her smooth skin. She was softer than he’d imagined any woman could be. Her curves yielded to him.

  He kissed her mouth, then her jaw and her ear. Her hands clutched at his back. He liked the way she held on to him as if she feared he would go away. If only she knew the truth. He had no other world save her.

  After licking her earlobe and making her giggle and squirm beneath him, he trailed his mouth down her neck to her chest. Her breathing increased. Her body tightened in anticipation. He moved his hands from her arms to her waist, then slipped them higher, up her rib cage to her breasts.

  She arched into his touch. Her hips came up off the bed and her fingers dug into his back. He raised his head slightly so he could see what he was doing.

  His long tanned fingers contrasted with her pale skin.
Her nipples were dark pink and already hard. He cupped her breasts, learning their shape and texture. They moved in his hands, soft and supple. She writhed beneath him, her legs tangling with his, her hips rising to meet him and taunt him with a brief caress. Around and around, he circled, close to the taut peaks, but not touching. Then he released her and reached for the champagne.

  Her eyes opened and she watched him take a sip. Her lips parted. He bent down and took her right nipple in his mouth. She gasped. The liquid had cooled his skin slightly. He suckled her, loving the taste of her. She was sweeter than the champagne, more intoxicating.

  He repeated the procedure, this time filling his mouth with the liquid and then letting the bubbles explode against her nipples. She called his name. Her arms fell to her sides and she clawed at the sheet. He traced a trail of dampness to her belly button, then back to her breasts. He loved her there, over and over, until her breath came in pants and her hips were permanently plastered against him.

  He taunted them both by moving back and forth against her center. Several times he had to stop because he was about to explode. He could feel the pressure building, so he backed off.

  He bathed her thighs in champagne, then licked her clean. He dipped her fingers into the slender glass and suckled them. Her eyes glazed over, her head tossed from side to side. At last, when perspiration coated her body and she had drawn her knees back to expose her most secret place to him, he reached between them and touched her there.

  Just once. Very lightly. The tip of his index finger found her center and rubbed it. Then again. She gasped. Her eyes opened, but she couldn’t seem to focus.

  “What are you doing?” she asked weakly.

  “Trying to drive you crazy. How am I doing?”

  She smiled. “Great. Except you lied to me.”

  “When?”

  “You said it wasn’t going to be different.” She blinked and looked at him. “It is. It’s wonderful. Why are you being so good to me?”