by JC Harroway
Becka rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m being an asshole. It’s not this wedding I object to—it’s the rest of them.” Weddings were nothing but false promises of happily-ever-after. They sold a dream most people never actually realized—more than half ended in divorce.
She gave herself a shake and eyed her glass. “I think it might be time to start with the vodka.” She’d already done her duties as maid of honor, from the pictures to the people herding to the speech. Now it was just a matter of keeping her head down until it was time to see Lucy and Gideon off to the limo. Yes, a drink is exactly what I deserve for keeping my happy mask in place. If she didn’t do something to break the tension soon, she was liable to snap at someone and make an ass of herself, and end up on some Maids of Honor Behaving Badly list. She couldn’t do that to Lucy. Today was like playing through one of her personal nightmares, but Becka could do better than to act out like a spoiled child as a result. She was better than that. She had to be.
Becka turned to the bar and froze.
Blue eyes captured hers, rooting her feet in place even as her body tried to sway forward. Toward him. Square jaw, straight strong nose, sensual lips that quirked up as he gave her his own perusal. She straightened, suddenly glad that her sister hadn’t followed the shitty tradition of clothing her bridesmaids in the ugliest dresses imaginable. Her purple dress set off the rich blue color she’d settled on for her hair, and it hugged what few curves she had. The stranger wore a tux even better than the groom, his broad shoulders tapering to a lean waist.
She’d never seen a more striking man in her life.
“That’s Aaron Livingston.” Allie’s shoulder brushed hers, effectively grounding her. “He’s friends with Roman and sometimes business associates with Gideon, I think. I didn’t realize he’d be here.”
Aaron. I like it. “I should go say hi, be hospitable...or something.”
Allie snorted. “Yeah, sure. That’s exactly what you’re going to do.” She grinned. “Have fun. I’m going to go dance with my man.”
“Yeah, yeah, rub it in that you’re deliriously domestically happy.” The words held no sting. She was happy her best friend had found the love of her life in Roman Bassani. Between Allie and Lucy, it was almost enough to convert Becka to a romantic way of thinking.
Almost.
Too bad I’m well acquainted with the downsides of romance. Hard to put on rose-tinted glasses when I’ve been up close and personal with everything that can go wrong.
God, she was a mess. She needed to do something—fast.
There was nothing quite as distracting as a man. The one currently staring at her as if memorizing every inch of her would fit the bill nicely.
It’s just a Band-Aid.
She shoved the knowledge aside and made her way to the bar, never taking her gaze off Aaron. He watched her but didn’t move from his spot. Letting her approach. Letting her set the tone. Smart man.
Becka sidled up to the spot next to him and broke eye contact to order a vodka seven. This close, she could smell his cologne—something expensive that made her think of hot and dirty sex in the best way possible. Down, girl. If this wedding was for anyone else, she wouldn’t hesitate to haul him to a convenient closet or bathroom stall to silence the ugliness inside her, but she wouldn’t do that to Lucy. Her sister deserved the best on her wedding day, and damn it, Becka would make sure she had it.
At least until Lucy got into the limo.
Then all bets were off.
“Maid of honor.”
God, even his voice was wonderful, low and even with just a hint of growl. She twisted to face him. “Wedding guest.” He just raised his eyebrows, and she smirked. “Sorry, I thought we were throwing out labels.” She held out her hand. “Becka Baudin.”
“Becka being short for Rebecka?”
“Something like that.” No one called her Rebecka—not even Lucy. She certainly wasn’t going to hand out that name to this guy, no matter how magnetic he was or how he seemed to be so close to what she needed in that moment, it was a wonder she hadn’t conjured him into existence.
But then, Becka didn’t believe in magic any more than she believed in romance.
“I’m Aaron.” He took her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. His five o’clock shadow scraped against her skin, completely at odds with the softness of his lips. It would feel good to have him sliding his mouth along other parts of her. Better than good. Decadent and sinful and absolutely perfect.
Not yet.
She licked her lips. “I know.”
“I see you’ve done your homework.”
“More like your reputation precedes you.”
“Can’t complain about that if it brings a woman like you my way.” He let their hands drop but didn’t release her. Aaron slid his thumb over the same path his lips had just taken, as if he had every right to seduce her with a single touch. His lips quirked into a smile and, damn it, it made him even more handsome. “Nice wedding.”
Come on, Becka, you can do better than this. Stop staring at him like a lust-struck idiot. She cleared her throat and reclaimed her hand just in time for the bartender to deliver her drink. She turned to face the bar fully, needing some distance, even if it was only in her head. No matter what her plans for this man were, she couldn’t afford to lose focus until later. Maybe this is a mistake. Maybe you should find someone less magnetic, less overwhelming, to lose yourself in. Even as she thought it, she knew she wasn’t going to. A few short minutes of conversation and Aaron Livingston had dropped a lure she couldn’t have resisted if she tried. Better to just let things unfurl on the path they were both obviously heading down.
It’s only one night. Tomorrow I’ll go back to my life and it will be nothing but a fond memory.
What had he asked her? Right. The wedding. Of course it was the wedding. That was all anyone had been talking about for months, and they were at the damn event right now.
She downed half her drink. “It’s a wedding. They’re all flavors of the same thing.” Damn it, that sounded bitter. She took a careful breath and pasted a happy smile on her face. “It’s what Lucy wanted, and she’s happy, so I’m happy.” That, at least, was the truth.
“I take it you don’t subscribe to the American dream that ends with a white picket fence?”
Becka shot him a look, trying to gauge where he was going with that comment. Even if he shared her views on marriage and weddings, this was hardly the event to start bitching about how cynical they were. “We live in New York. We don’t do white picket fences here as a general rule.”
“True enough.” Aaron’s blue eyes took her in, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that he saw too much. That if he looked deep enough, he’d be able to trace her aversion to the fictional happily-ever-after right back to her parents’ destroyed marriage and...
Enough.
Keeping ahold of her drink, she gave him her full attention. No reason to avoid pulling the trigger on this. If by some miracle she’d misread the situation, she still had plenty of time to bounce back from any rejection he dealt and move on to someone else. “You want to get out of here?” She waved a hand at her sister still on the dance floor. “I mean, after this dog and pony show has reached its natural conclusion.”
His grin widened, just a little. “I wouldn’t say no to another drink somewhere quieter, where we could have a conversation.”
A conversation? Hard pass. The conversation, the drinks, the quiet place... It was all just frills to fancy up the fact that they wanted to bang each other’s brains out. Whatever his reasons, he seemed just as onboard with this plan as she was. Except he wanted to talk. If he was anyone else, if the attraction was any more manageable... But he wasn’t, and it wasn’t. She knew her strengths, and while she didn’t believe in love at first sight, what she had with Aaron was definitely lust at first sight. Better for both o
f them to keep things simple and define clear boundaries from the start.
Becka reached up and traced the top button of his dark gray shirt. “Is a conversation really what you’re after?”
He opened his mouth and seemed to reconsider. “I’m after you.”
The honesty washed over her, a fresh breeze that made the choking environment of this fucking wedding a little more bearable. I am happy for Lucy. I am. I just can’t look at her without seeing our mother, and we both know how that turned out. It’s not the same and it won’t have the same outcome, but that doesn’t change anything. Not really.
Becka managed a smile. “In that case, let’s skip the drinks and you can take me back to your place for a nightcap.”
If anything, his brows rose higher. “A nightcap.”
“Yep.” It would be good with Aaron. Exactly what she needed. The lightning nipping at her fingertips from just this small touch told her as much. They could offer each other an enjoyable night, and then she’d get back to her life with only a fond memory to balance out her mixed feelings about her friend and sister leaving her behind.
They weren’t really leaving her. Rationally, Becka knew that. Most days, she even believed that nothing would really change even though both Lucy and Allie had gone and fallen in love.
Stop that.
Becka finished her drink and set it on the bar. “Another, please.”
Aaron covered the glass with his hand. “If you want that nightcap, then you’re done for the night.” When she opened her mouth to protest, he shifted closer, placing his free hand over hers, his broad shoulders blocking out the rest of the room. “Trust me—you’ll want to be sober for this.”
His audacity made her laugh. “Yeah, no, you don’t get to decide when I’m done.” She was buzzed, but she wasn’t anywhere near drunk. Another drink or two wouldn’t make a difference.
“All the same.” He removed his hand, but he didn’t move away. “You’re more than welcome to drink yourself stupid, but you won’t be coming home with me if you do.”
Sheer stubbornness almost made her tell him to fuck right off. Becka responded to commands about as well as she did to ultimatums, and Aaron had issued both in the last thirty seconds. The whole point of a night of wild abandon was the abandon part, and that only worked if they were equal. Letting him set the pace and lay down the boundaries was not part of the plan.
But then the DJ’s voice laughed from the speakers. “It’s about that time, ladies and gentlemen. All the single ladies on the floor to catch the bouquet!”
Desperation clawed at Becka’s throat. She had to go out there and smile and be supportive, and all she wanted to do was crawl under the bar with a bottle of vodka. She glared at Aaron. “Fine. No more drinks.” She turned on her heel and stalked toward the group of women gathering in the middle of the dance floor.
He’d better be as good as he thinks he is.
* * *
Aaron spent the rest of the reception watching Becka. Taking her home was likely a mistake. He might be on decent terms with her sister, but her newly acquired brother-in-law was a different story altogether. Pissing off Gideon Novak wasn’t on his list of things to accomplish, especially with Aaron’s business on the verge of expanding. He’d need the headhunter in the future, which was part of the reason he’d accepted the invitation to this wedding.
Becka’s laugh drew his attention, the sound just as bold as the rest of her. From her blue hair to the piercing glinting against her red lipstick to her tight little body... Yeah, bold summed up Becka Baudin pretty damn well. She couldn’t be more different from her straitlaced older sister, and even though he knew better, those differences intrigued him. She was the kind of woman who saw what she wanted and went after it, no holds barred.
Tonight, it appeared that what she wanted was him.
He set his empty tumbler on the bar as Becka grabbed a microphone and instructed the guests to head out front to see Lucy and Gideon off. She was the kind of woman born to stand in the spotlight. She held everyone’s attention easily as she laughed and made a joke, but still managed to be firm and get everyone moving toward the door. Most of them would be coming back into the reception to keep drinking while the bride and groom went off to do what new couples did on their wedding night.
Aaron had other plans.
Becka’s gaze found him across the small sea of people between them, and the barely banked heat in those blue eyes seared him to the bone. He started for the door with the rest of the guests. Despite all the jostling, he never lost sight of her in the crowd. How could he, when everything about her seemed designed to draw attention? Aaron let himself be borne along, but he managed to ensure he ended up close to her once they reached the sidewalk. As more people piled out in front of the venue, he had to step closer until he nearly bumped into her.
She glanced over her shoulder and grinned. “Hey there, handsome. You come here often?”
Before he could answer, Lucy and Gideon walked out the door, hand in hand. A cheer went up from the people around him, and the crowd surged as guests started blowing bubbles at them. The movement sent Becka teetering in her sky-high heels, and Aaron instinctively grabbed her arm and steadied her. It pressed their bodies together, her back to his front. This close, there was no way to avoid noticing the curve of her ass, or the way it lined up so fucking perfectly with his cock.
He gritted his teeth and tried to get his body’s reaction under control, but Becka chose that moment to lean back against him and roll her hips, ever so slightly. In case he missed it—not likely—she shifted his hand from her arm to her stomach, tucking them tighter together. Another roll of her hips had him cursing softly. He resisted the temptation to let his hand drop lower to brush the V between her thighs. They were in the middle of a goddamn crowd, and her sister was only a few feet away.
But he wanted to.
Fuck, he wanted to.
Aaron wanted to hook his fingers beneath the hem of her dress and stroke her pussy right here. To bring her to the edge and leave her there, teasing her to see how long she could hold out from making a noise that would give them away.
Holy shit, get ahold of yourself. This isn’t you. You don’t lose control like this—especially with a woman who’s barely more than a stranger.
A few precarious minutes later, the newlyweds were safely tucked into the limo. Before he could decide how he wanted to play this, Becka turned in his arms and laced her hands around his neck. The move pressed her more firmly against his cock, and hell if her lips didn’t part and her blue eyes go hazy with need. For him. She leaned up until her lips brushed his ear. “You are the sexiest goddamn distraction I’ve ever seen.”
He traced the curve of her ass and lost his battle with control. Aaron dipped his fingertips beneath the hem of her dress. “I’m not the only one.” Weddings made people crazy, and he’d always thought he was immune to that particular insanity, but then, he’d never met a woman like this before. The attraction was too strong to resist, and it came on too quickly to do anything but let go and see where it took them.
Becka nipped his earlobe. “Let’s get out of here.”
“One thing before we go.” He walked them back until his shoulders hit the brick wall, away from the people already disappearing through the door into the hotel. It took several long minutes before the sidewalk cleared of the wedding guests. All the while, he studied Becka’s face, the dark fringe of her lashes, the curve of her lower lip, the way her breath caught when she met his gaze.
Aaron cupped her jaw and tilted her face up to claim her mouth. She tasted minty, a burst of freshness as intoxicating as the woman herself. Becka went soft in his arms, melting as she opened for him, her tongue eagerly meeting his, stroke for stroke. As if she’d been as impatient for this moment as he’d been.
She’d called him a distraction.
She was the distr
action—one he wasn’t sure he could afford.
He pressed his forehead to hers, trying to regain control. “Let’s go.”
“How far is your place?”
A forty-minute cab ride.
Too far.
Inside the building, a burst of laughter trailed down to them. Perfect. “About twenty yards.”
She laughed. “That works. I don’t want to wait anymore.” She grabbed his hand and towed him back inside the building. They bypassed the entrance to the ballroom where the reception was being held and headed for the main desk.
Ten minutes later, they stumbled through the door to a room and slammed it behind them. Aaron guided Becka to the bed and laid her on top of it. He kissed her neck, her shoulder, the line of her heart-shaped bodice. She was fire in his arms, arching to meet his mouth, her hands busy on the front of his shirt. She shoved it down his shoulders, and he released her long enough to shrug it off. Aaron tugged her dress up over her head.
Need shot through him, rushing his movements even as part of him wanted to slow down.
To savor every moment.
He stopped short, drinking in the sight of her. She wore nothing but a silk thong in show-stopping pink. Against her pale skin, the neon color practically glowed, just as brilliant as her hair. Aaron traced the rose tattoo nestled on the inside of her left hip, noting the thorns circling the full petals of the flower, and then he smoothed his hand up her taut stomach to her high breasts. She was lean, every muscle defined in a way that spoke of serious time spent in the gym. “Strong little thing, aren’t you?”
“Well, I’m a spin and TRX instructor, so that goes with the territory.”
He bracketed her ribs with his hands and then cupped her breasts. “Maybe I’ll take one of your classes sometime.”
Becka laughed even as she twined her hands over her head, offering her body to him. “Honey, you wouldn’t last ten minutes.”
“Think so?” He lightly pinched her pale pink nipples, gauging her reaction. Her sharp inhale only fanned the flames within him. He needed her. Now.
