The wedding was passing contained in an odd, floaty bliss. Rowan couldn’t stop smiling, sure her cheeks had frozen into a permanent caricature of happiness. The wait before the ceremony hadn’t even seemed unbearable as it had during past weddings, perhaps because Rowan was preoccupied with the thoughts of the previous night’s pleasures.
“You did it.” Mallory’s whispered proclamation contained a sense of urgency. “You so did it!”
Given the woman’s excitement, Rowan half expected a high five combined with a happy dance.
“How many times? More than once, I hope?”
Rowan threw a panicked look toward the other bridesmaids, who for now, seemed blissfully unaware of the barely contained drama unfolding only a few feet away. She nodded and lowered her hand so her motion was blocked from the sight of the other woman. She waggled four fingers.
“Four?” Mallory mouthed. Her eyes widened, and she wiggled four of her own fingers, clearly in need of solid confirmation.
Rowan shrugged, scarcely believing it herself. Exceeding expectations seemed to be Connor’s claim to fame.
Mallory grabbed her arm and practically dragged her out to the courtyard. She looked around before she whispered, “Damn.” The woman gave her hand a tiny flick as if she touched something hot. “Talk about commitment.”
Commitment? “Well, he’s pretty great, but using the ‘c’ word is a tad optimistic.”
“Four times? Great doesn’t quite cover that.”
“Well, hours apart, obviously. You know, the limo quickie, the hotel room sextravaganza, followed by what some might classify as the equivalent of a midnight snack.”
Mallory’s brows rose. “Do tell.”
“You know. Quick and dirty, and completely satisfying.” She tapped her lips. “And the morning sex. Hmmm, maybe it was five times … there was that thing we did in the shower.”
“The shower! I’m more than a little jellie. The man had energy to do it four, possibly five times in less than twenty-four hours?” Mallory paced back and forth shaking her head. “How can you even walk straight? Aren’t you sore”—she pointed downward—“in the nether regions?”
“No?”
“Is he teeny tiny?”
Rowan snickered. “Nope. He’s just … exceptional in the foreplay department.”
Her friend nodded slowly. “So the Big O …”
“Was at the top of the dessert list. I confirm there were zero issues in the sex department. This guy would be a keeper—”
“Except for the fact he’s a womanizer.”
“Except for that. But is he actually? He’s kind of sweet, and super attentive in bed, so maybe he’s put all of that behind him.”
“One can only hope.”
“So, is the inquisition over? Are you satisfied?”
“Yes, to the first, no to the second, but you certainly are, so that’s all that matters.”
Rowan laughed and slung an arm around her friend’s shoulders. “Maybe you should ask Connor to give your man some pointers.”
“Ugh, no.” Mallory steered Rowan toward the hall. “I definitely don’t need to know the finer details of what the man did to make you glow.”
Maybe life was finally turning around for the better.
“You did good.” Connor hooked a finger in the knot of his tie and loosened it, seconds later tossing it aside. The man kicked off his shoes and flopped onto the bed. “Did you hear all the comments on the decor?”
“Most of them.” She removed her stilettos and placed them carefully under a chair. “You’re more excited about the rave reviews than I am.”
“I’m excited for you. You put a ton of work into it.”
“As did you. I’d never have finished without you.”
“You’re welcome.” He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. “What’s the reward?”
“Hmmm. What would a man like you enjoy?” She tapped a finger against pursed lips. “Aren’t you hot in”—she motioned up and down—“all of that?”
“Unbearably.” Barely blinking, he unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his tanned, toned chest.
Rowan leaned over him, brushing her palms over his smooth skin. “Nice. You work out, I can tell.” She placed kisses on his pecs, moving down his chest, over his washboard abs, following his glory trail as she unzipped and removed his pants. A thrill ran through her at the sight of the man in all his naked glory, his cock jutting proudly. She reached out and ran her finger over the tip, collecting the pool of fluid gathering there. Meeting his gaze, she slid her fingertip into her mouth, enjoying the slight tang of the man.
He brushed his thumbs over her breasts, her nipples pebbling even through the combined layers of her dress and bra. “You have far too many clothes on.”
Her belly tightened, anticipation pooling there, the sensations travelling down between her legs. Slowly, she stood over him, tugging her dress up and over her head. She tossed it aside and unhooked her bra, lowering it inch by inch to reveal her taught nipples.
“Come here.” His voice sounded gruff. “How about some six-nine?”
Rowan nodded as she turned and wiggled her ass. She stepped carefully, straddling him in a standing position before she knelt, presenting her bum.
He ran a finger over the silk and lace thong that barely covered her. “You’re so perfect.”
She squirmed, need burning through her, but first, she longed to pleasure him. Rowan peered at him over her shoulder as she grasped the base of his cock, letting him see her open her mouth wide. The man’s strangled sound when she engulfed him urged her on. She relaxed and rolled her tongue under his shaft. “Mmm-mmm.” She hummed around her mouthful, cupping his balls, giving them firm yet gentle squeezes, bobbing her head in a steady rhythm. She paused only briefly when he slid aside her silky panties and began teasing her clit with his tongue. Her moans became more urgent, her humming louder as he slid a finger over her, spreading her arousal and sliding two fingers inside her.
Rowan rocked on her knees, concentrating hard on keeping her jaw loose, taking his cock deeper and deeper, savouring the way he twitched each time the head hit the back of her throat.
“Might explode.” He tugged her hair, signalling his need for a change. “Ride my cock.”
She moved forward and lowered herself onto him, not bothering to contain her cry as she lowered herself into reverse cowgirl. Tipping her head back, she rocked and circled, using her thighs to lift in time with his thrusts.
Connor guided her hips as she circled and rocked. “Faster.”
Rowan complied, swaying and circling her hips and bobbing up and down, palms propped against his thighs. The pleasure of the heat and friction of their bodies was overwhelming, her breathing coming in short gasps as she moved faster and faster, his hips rising in steady rhythm.
“Over.” He lifted her toward him, half sitting and lifting, performing the awkward manoeuvre to flip her onto her back.
Kisses rained onto her neck and shoulders as he moved above her. She ground against him, seeking the release building with every movement. Pressing her mouth against his shoulder, she fought the need to cry out he rocked against her, faster and faster.
“Fuck. I …” Connor sucked for air.
Every muscle inside her tensed, the cries of their combined release ringing though the air. He collapsed, barely keeping his weight off her with one trembling arm.
“Magnificent, Ro.” He slid off, immediately wrapping her in his arms with her cradled against his chest.
She closed her eyes, relaxing into his warm embrace.
“Connor? Are you here?” Rowan padded into the bathroom, the man completely vanished. Gone. After all, there were only so many places he could go in a tiny hotel room. Even his shoes were missing, but she refused to read too much into it.
She spotted his jacket slung over the chair, a relieved smile appearing as she check her texts:
Grabbing us breakfast and coffee. BRB!
Rowan picked up her evening gowns and folded them neatly, tucking them into the dry cleaning bag. She grabbed his jacket and patted down the pockets. Might as well add it to the cleaning. The crinkling sound in one of the pockets alerted her, and she pulled out the envelope and dropped it onto the bed before she check the rest of the pockets a second time. She folded the garment and tucked it into the bag and hung the bag on the hook for pickup.
The envelope on the bed caught her eye, the corner of what looked like a ticket sticking out the top. Glancing over her shoulder, she lifted the flap and peeked inside. Bingo? Her curiosity was getting the better of her, and she pulled it out, scanning the names and numbers. She frowned. These were all people she knew, men she’d met at various weddings, women too. Her stomach lurched. There she was, in full colour, numbers and dollars against her name like some sick score sheet.
Even worse, Connor’s name was there lined up with her, like he’d won the right to woo her for the weekend. Except he didn’t have a collection of points, or bullet points of achievements.
“That’s what I’m worth to you?” She blinked hard, fighting the urge to cry. Stupid, stupid, stupid. The man wasn’t getting them coffee, he was updating the other members involved in the pool on how well he’d scored, laughing about how pathetic she was, and how willing she was to suck his cock in return for a few meagre scraps of affection.
Her cheeks flamed, anger igniting and fingers shaking as she dialled. “Mallory, you have to see this.”
“What’s wrong honey, are you okay?”
“No! Our names, on some stupid score card, some disgusting betting pool.”
“You’re making no sense. I’ll be right there.”
Rowan sank onto the bed, tears streaking down her cheeks. Everything she’d thought to be real was fake. Everything she thought of as true was false. Connor Ashton was still the same snake he’d always been, and this twisted little whatever-the-hell it was, was over.