"Fucking stupid idea," I grumbled, jumping to my feet and rubbing my hands together to remove any dirt residue. With a grimace, I pinched the ripped fabric as irritation boiled my blood. "Look at me now. I'll spend the rest of the night half-naked. Great. What a wonderful idea you had there, Wilde. Come on, if you'd wanted another glimpse of me, all you had to do was ask. I would've even given you a run for your money."
Addison ate the distance between us and burst out laughing, her laughter so warm and contagious that some of my anger dissolved, and I joined in. Yeah, I appeared ridiculous, no doubt.
"Tuck, I gotta say, you do look stupid. Not sure your pricey shirt can carry off this new design. Lucky you, you have pretty nipples. You could pretend you got hurdled by a flock of needy women on your way here. And they ripped your clothes off with their long fingernails. Or their teeth. People would get engrossed in such a story. Super believable. They'd all talk about it, and you'd be a hero."
I blinked. And I blinked again. She nodded, seeming convinced by her retelling of events that had never happened. Addison Wilde was... Jesus... For once, I had no idea how to describe her. Some of her last words replayed in my head.
"Pretty nipples?" I had fucked my share of women and never had any of them tell me my nipples were pretty.
Addison grinned. What was wrong with her? Couldn't she share my anger instead of complimenting my freaking tits? Pecs. Geez, she was toying with my mind now. Every parcel of it.
"Wilde, keep your compliments to yourself. Because none of it changes the fact that I'm about to board a multi-million yacht looking like a cheap stripper." My hands clenched at my sides. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm particular about my clothes. I love expensive designer shit. This," I gestured to my chest, "doesn't cut it. Not at all. I'm freaking mad right now. And it's all your fault."
She moved closer, pushing her blonde ponytail over her shoulders, and grabbed my upper arms.
"How is it my fault that you miss a step? Stop blaming me for your incompetence."
I took a step toward her. "Care to repeat that?”
My chest brushed against her body, her stiffened nipples rattling the chains of my self-control. Her breaths mingled with mine. The air between us heated up. Her lips pursed. Fuck. That mouth, it did nothing to tame my hunger. My dick sprang to life. Her soft breasts pressed against my torso. The contact drove me insane. Our heartbeats synced. The glare she sent my way turned me on instead of appeasing the throbbing in my lower body. All I wished for was to claim her as mine. Here and now. Finish what we started last night. Relive the episode I couldn't recall. The one urging me in such a compulsive way I had a hard time containing it in that instant.
My heart mistook my annoyance for excitement. Yearning. Lust.
No, it wasn't desire kindling inside me. Just a primal need to get her out of my system. To kill the ache.
I pursed my lips and drew a calming breath to unknot the tension rising in my core. Her presence invaded my senses, inverting the North and South of my internal compass.
Addison, looking all feisty and alluring, sighed and rolled her eyes. I forced my desire down, clenching my fists. I had no right to feel whatever sizzled in me. I stepped back, desperate to evade her gravitational field. To avoid touching her. To prevent myself from kissing those pouty lips.
Her exasperated tone cooled my ardor. "Don't be a baby, big guy. It was an accident. And it wasn't my fault. Now, if you'd listen to me for more than ten seconds, I have a solution. Not sure you'll like it, but it's worth trying."
I frowned. So far, all her bright ideas had turned out badly. For me. Okay, for her too. Maybe. It didn't matter that she looked all adorable and innocent. Addison Wilde had a devil's side I wasn't sure I liked that much. But couldn't seem to escape. Did I really want to? My hesitation spoke volumes. I was so screwed.
She was having another one of her light bulb moments. Yeah, right. What would it be this time? She opened her sinful mouth, and I braced myself for the volley of her words. Instead of speaking, she seemed to think better of it because, without saying anything, she lifted her mysterious package from the ground and tore the plastic wrap open.
I stared at her. Waiting. My chest rose and fell quickly, my anger barely contained now. Mixed with anticipation.
The sight of her, a grin on her lips and sparkles in her eyes, acted like a balm, easing my temper.
Until she unfolded the piece of fabric she fished from the bag.
My heart stopped beating. Yes, I was pretty sure I died right there. If that was her brilliant idea, what did her shitty ones look like? Oh yeah, I already had a taste of them. My throat worked for a few seconds, air barely flowing through because I had no clue if I should burst out laughing or crying or just run for my life. I opened my mouth to say something—anything—when the most cocksure and adorable smile spread on her face as she watched my reaction. My gag reflex engaged. It fucking did. This was a joke. I was being pranked. Again. This scrap of fabric shouldn't be allowed to be called a T-shirt. It was an insult to all the T-shirts in the world. I blinked. Once. Twice. No, it wasn't a dream. This nightmare was real.
I was right last night. Addison Wilde was a minx. She would ruin me.
Dear God. Please help me, I prayed, casting a quick glance at the sky.
I owned pink dress shirts, but that thing bore the ugliest shade of...of… I lacked the pertinent adjectives to characterize its uniqueness. Addison flicked a switch hidden in its seam, and a battery-powered sign at the back spelling "GROOM" lit up.
She. Was. Messing. With. Me.
No way could this be real.
Dirty salmon-pink, size extra-small—sure looked like it—and blinking lights.
Fuck, I'd be the butt of all jokes throughout the night.
I closed my eyes and drew a long breath, the anger inside me increasing. My blood turned to lava. Could she see the steam coming out of my ears and nostrils? Two more seconds and I'd turn into a dragon. Goddamn it.
My molars would fuse together if I didn't relax my jaw.
Taking a deep breath in, I unclenched my fists, forcing my rage to stay down. Deep inside me. Far, far away from here. No, I wouldn't explode. Now wasn't the time to unleash every swear word in my vocabulary.
"That's the package we couldn't leave without? Are you fucking with me on purpose? It's terrible. Promise me you'll never throw a bachelor party for me. Not that I'll ever get married, but still. A man can't be too prepared for something that awful. I'm crossing your name off the guest list right now. See? All done. You're uninvited to an event that won't ever occur. Ugh, that's how bad this looks."
"Tuck, Tuck, Tuck. Why are you being a brat about it? You need a shirt. I happen to hold a brand new one in my hands. Try it," she argued, not affected by the words I just spoke.
"No. There's no way I'll ever wear—this. Whatever this is," I barked, pointing to the piece of pink fluff I refused to call clothing. "I hope bare chests are allowed on the boat, sweetheart. Fuck, I'll really be looking like a stripper.”
I bowed my head, inhaling and exhaling, as a new wave of ire singed my insides.
Addison folded her arms over her chest and sighed. A mix of amusement and—was that annoyance?—danced in her deep blue eyes. She shook her head and pushed the awful atrocity against my chest with more strength than necessary. My gaze lingered on her pushed-up tits for a fraction of a second before returning to her face.
The corners of her lips were pinched together, and she had a don't-bullshit-your-way-out-of-this look plastered on her gorgeous face. Damn, even her upset face did something to me. My dick stirred in my pants. Stay put, man. We're not playing that field, remember? Knowing Addison was out of reach made her even more attractive. A forbidden fruit. A banned temptation.
Her irritation brought my focus back to her. And I snapped out of my perusal. Oh yeah, the stupid groom T-shirt.
Her voice, as mellow as honey, dissolved more of my anger. How could she master this trick?
"Tuck, don't be prissy about it. Just wear the damn shirt already."
I folded my arms across my chest. "Not a chance. And did you pick a toddler's size? It's so tiny. No way will I ever fit in this. My head is bigger than this dishrag."
A grin transformed Addison's face, chasing away her aggravation. "What choice do you have?" She grabbed the phone from her purse and watched the screen. "The yacht is leaving in five minutes. Either you wear this fantastic T-shirt I designed for our friends or you spend the night in torn clothes. Not that I'll complain. Told ya, your nipples look nice. Your choice. Hurry up, the clock is ticking. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock."
Oh, this girl. If only I had the time to fight with her right now. Get that smug grin off her face.
My dick twitched again at the thought.
I don't have the time for you, I told him in my head. Stay out of it. Last warning. The girl isn't ours to play with. Boundaries, man.
Addison knew she had me. I was weak around her.
My body firmed.
The tension between us soared.
We faced each other, neither of us breaking our stance.
Her tempting lips parted, and right now, damn the consequences. I would have kissed the shit out of her, bent her over the hood of my rental, and fucked her till morning. Until I could fulfill and then erase all the naughty images swimming in my head.
Addison Wilde had a way of getting under my skin.
To make me want to pull my own hair—if only I could get a grip on it.
Those ridiculously blue eyes were trained on my semi-bared chest. If they swept down, they'd be aware of how bad I had it for her right now. And how the challenge she brought into my life excited me.
I lowered my gaze to my wrecked shirt. Nothing I could do would fix it.
"Let me tell you something. You owe me big time, sweetheart. You better open a tab because, at this pace, you'll be broke by the end of the night. And I mean it. You're responsible. For all of this."
Addison tipped her chin up, never breaking eye-contact.
"Oh, already told ya, big guy. I don't scare easily. Southern girl here. Born and raised. Your big-city threat doesn't impress me much. Sorry. You'll need to do better than that to unnerve me." She glanced at her phone. "Tick. Tock. Tick-tock. What will it be, Tuuucker?"
The way she said my name. Slow and with a hint of arrogance. Even that made me want to bend her over. Damn Nick's rules. The guy knew what he was doing when he made me swear to keep my distance. He knew I would have a hard time resisting the temptress. That I would sell my soul for just a taste of her.
"Tick. Tock. Tick-tock.”
A loud growl crossed my lips as I said, "Fine. Gimme the thing you're bold enough to call a T-shirt." I snatched it from her hands, held the sides of my torn shirt, and ripped it off me just to gauge her reaction, then slid the pink monstrosity over my head, gritting my teeth. Her cheeks flushed as she nibbled on her lower lip while pretending to be unaffected. She blinked and took a harsh breath. Once. Twice. Was she as unsettled as I was at this instant?
And I myself couldn't breathe, my attraction the root of it, but also this tasteless T-shirt I wore. It was so tight that the seams stretched as I tugged it lower.
"Happy now?"
Addison hid her victorious smirk behind her hand. "Oh Tuck, you look amazing. It was made for you. I should have got one for you in the first place. Maybe you'll let me throw you a bachelor party after all. See, I can read your mind, and my name has been put back on your guest list. Thank you for trusting me with the task of dressing you for your special day." Ignoring the glower I fired at her for the presumptuous tone, she cupped her heart with both hands. "It will be my honor. I promise to make you proud. Can't wait." She paused. "Would you mind playing model for a few hours? I'd like official shots of you sporting one of my creations. I helped ya; you help me out in return. Only fair."
She took her phone out and pointed it at me, her finger pressing the shutter button.
"Oh yes. Show me that scowl. The ladies love a handsome grump. You're hired."
A groan tumbled out of my mouth. Guttural and animalistic. Addison was playing with fire and enjoying every second of it. And the more she teased, the more I enjoyed her presence. It was a sickness. Something that poured fire into my blood. Killing my brain cells. Fucking with my existence. Addison Wilde had annihilated me. And she was having a blast doing so. "If you wanted to make sure I wouldn't get laid tonight, well, you succeeded. Congrats, sweetheart. You could've just said so. I know I'm a pretty memorable fuck. The best you'll ever get. No need to go all possessive on me now that you've had your way with me. It's sad you can't recall it, I agree. Somehow, you'll always wonder what it felt like. My dick inside you. Your screams as I pounded into you. The sound of flesh on flesh. Your rapid breathing. Toes curling. The best lay you ever had."
She gasped. And did nothing to hide the fire dancing in her eyes.
She blinked, flustered, her eyes big and her breasts swollen. Yeah, enjoy the self-denial, woman.
I pivoted on my heels and stalked forward. "Let's go before our friends kill us for being late. Again.”
We walked in silence through the high weeds.
Addison's stare burned into my skin. I could feel it on my back the entire time.
I cocked my head to watch her, and she offered me a lopsided smile. Pride. Recognition. Longing. Emotions danced across her face. I'd never be able to stay indifferent to her charms. Agitated, I locked my ache for her. If only the pre-wedding festivities were over by now and I could book the next flight home.
For a second, I felt bad for Addison. She'd miss giving Dahlia and Nick the gift she had made for them to help me out. Selflessness filled her heart. What else could explain her actions? I mirrored the tilt of her lips, unable to cast her out.
So far, this weekend was nothing like I'd imagined. I regretted not fighting to be in charge. After all, planning a bachelor party was supposed to be the best man's job. Dahlia and Nick had insisted on organizing everything themselves. Deep down, I bet a part of them knew I would've gone overboard with it. Yeah, I couldn't blame them for opting to keep some control.
I refocused my attention before me, the yacht in full view.
Addison's glee bounced on my back, and I halted, waiting for her to get in step with me, and reached for her hand. Her fingers intertwined with mine as if we had rehearsed the small gesture many times before. Her hand fit perfectly in mine. In silence, we moved forward. Together.
"Thank you. For trusting me," she said after a beat.
How could I stay mad at her? Addison possessed a strong yet vulnerable persona. I saw the two sides of her. And the mix of both was a deadly combination. I could imagine people turning their entire world upside down to catch a glint of happiness in her features. To follow her anywhere. To bask in her contagious energy. Because a part of me felt this way.
What was her ex thinking when he slept around and broke her heart? This woman, no matter how bad I tried to portray her, was kindness personified. Sure, she was crazy, and her ideas were atrocious—she really believed they were awesome even when they made absolutely no sense—but still, she had an endearing personality and a challenging spirit. That I could tell. Because, despite myself and my best friend's warning, she had sucked me into the vibrant vortex that defined her.
"Tell me, you really designed this?" I asked, still flabbergasted that I agreed to wear the T-shirt, but trying to go back to the friendly relationship we'd shared earlier.
She shrugged. "Yeah. I design the T-shirts I sell online. For fun. I'm a graphic designer. I usually do dealership banners and ads. But designing fun logos and stuff has always been a passion of mine. I've been doing Carter's merch for years now. Anyway, I lied to you. I should have ordered the T-shirts weeks ago, but with everything going on, I kinda forgot and ordered them yesterday as a rush shipment. Sorry it's boring."
I stopped in my tracks. "Are you fucking with me again?"
Addison released my hand and kept walking. I circled her wrist with my fingers to force her to stop. She spun to face me. "No. Why would I?" Even her irises were shitty liars. A flashback of the vulnerability I saw on her face this morning came back to me. When she confided about her ex and how he screwed with her heart.
It was my turn to shrug. "It's cool. The T-shirt isn't that bad. The color is enough to give me acne, and the size hasn't been thought through to fit an adult male, but other than that, I think it's pretty original. You're talented. I can tell. I had no idea you were behind Carter Hills's logo and merch. That's incredible.”
Addison tipped her head forward. Was that a flush on her cheeks? "Thanks," she muttered. Was I making her shy? I thought shyness wasn't in her vocabulary.
The easy conversation and confidences we shared warmed a layer of my icy heart.
Hand in hand and feeling somehow closer to her, we resumed our walk.
She offered me a squeeze of her hand and a tight-lipped smile, her gaze filled with a hint of empathy. Or tenderness. A sign she was there with me and would have my back. Those details were not lost on me.
She put her heels back on just when we approached the yacht.
A fresh burst of energy jolted her, and she hurried forward, tugging my hand.
From up close, the motor yacht was magnificent. About sixty feet long, it had an open deck above the hull and single level living quarters below, giving a panoramic view of the river from all sides. We stepped inside the salon, and I was taken aback by the luxury it projected, with white walls and wooden trims and flooring and ornate decor. A table big enough to seat over twenty people had been set up in the middle of the salon, which led to the galley on the left and a navigation station on the right.
After a crew member welcomed us aboard, he motioned us toward the staircase leading to the upper deck. My hand rested on Addison's lower back the entire time as I climbed after her. Open-air, the deck was lined with dark plank wooden floors and white leather seats. The warm breeze swept our faces as we reached the last step. People mingled, holding their glasses, dressed to the nines.
All conversations stopped the moment our feet landed on the deck.
Eyeballs rolled in our direction.
Laughter replaced the chatter.
"Oohs" and "Ahhs" blasted into my ears.
I dragged a hand over my face. Great. Now I'd be the topic of stupid jokes all night.
The temporary peace that had settled between Addison and me vanished when I caught the twinkle in her eyes. Now we were back to each man—or woman—to themselves. And our banter would resume. Gone was the compassion from her features. She looked highly amused at the commotion our entrance created.
I breathed in, trying to keep the new batch of irritation swirling inside me under wraps.
Yearning and frustration blended together. With my eyes throwing daggers at the woman who had dressed me like a blind toddler, I steeled my back and upped my chin. "Showtime, I guess," I muttered under my breath.
"Ohmygod, Tucker. What happened to ya? You know Nick is the groom, right? Are you trying to tell us something?" Dahlia teased, her eyes glinting and mouth twisting with repressed mirth. "In case you didn't get the memo, I'm not marrying you. Sorry. Anyway, you look... Well, you look charming."
Dahlia was as much a bad liar as her best friend. I resisted the urge to poke my tongue out at her and strangle Addison at the same time. Perhaps that sounded a bit excessive.
Inside, I cringed. Charming. What the actual fuck! Nothing about the way I dressed was charming. I looked stupid. More than stupid. Ludicrous.
I forced a smile to my lips and met Dahlia's entertained demeanor.
"Great. I'm glad you think it's a good look on me because guess what? You get to wear one too. We'll match tonight, you and I." The humor vanished from her eyes. "That's right. Wilde got them for you and Nick. But since I ripped my shirt and didn't have time to change, I was the lucky SOB who got to wear the groom's. You're the bride-to-be, so do the math in your head, sunshine. We'll rock the town together later."
Nick joined us, sparks in his eyes, barely able to contain his laughter. Fucker. He clapped my shoulder, and I groaned, jerking away from his touch. "Sorry, man. No way you're playing bride and groom with my future wife. She isn't wearing hers." He focused his attention on the maid of honor, still standing tall beside me. "Did you make those?" She nodded, a large smile showing her pearly whites, pride undulating from her. "I knew you'd make something. They look amazing. I'm super impressed. Sorry it ended up on this loser."
Addison sighed and waved her hand. "Yeah. The worst part is that he can't even appreciate the art and creativity behind it."
"I agreed they were originals," I protested, none of them paying an ounce of attention to me.
Nick continued as if I'd said nothing, "That's a shame. I'd wear mine with pride, girl." Why did he have to be so non-embarrassed about everything? My best friend had become the biggest no-spine doormat since he fell in love. His expression almost had me convinced he regretted not being the one wearing the stupid shirt.
And now I had the certitude he wouldn't help me save face or find a solution to my wardrobe malfunction. The only person who could have had my back tonight had turned on me. Unapologetic.
I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to come up with a smart idea to fix my dressing problem on my own. Surrounded by people who acted as if I couldn't hear them mocking my look shamelessly, I massaged my temples and pondered my options.
"Come on, guys, be serious. I can't be the only one wearing this," I said, motioning to my chest with a hand, a sad expression taking over my face. Would they fall for it? I tried to pinch the cotton, but it was so tight I couldn't even get a grip. "I look ridiculous. This is supposed to be a couple outfit, not a lonely-groom kinda thing."
Carter sauntered our way, laughing so loud that he had to use his fist to wipe the teary corners of his eyes. Great. Another witness to my humiliation.
Amongst all the people present, he was the only one I could trade clothes with. He had about an inch over me, but my shoulders were broader.
"I must say, Addi, you surpassed yourself this time. When you told me you had a little special something for tonight, never would I have imagined it to be so damn spectacular." They high-fived, and smoke came out of my nose. Again. "And I'm pretty sure it looks even better on Tucker here." He faced me. "Man, you look like you're dressed in a ten-year-old's T-shirt. Kudos to you for agreeing to wear it." He extended his fist to bump mine, but I ignored it.
"At least on the real groom-to-be, it wouldn't have been so stretched. You wouldn't have a spare shirt in your truck by accident? One I could borrow for the night?"
"Sorry. All I have are smelly gym clothes." He offered me a rueful smile and brought his glass to his lips. Fucking great. This night was anything but fine. And it had just begun.
Dahlia and Addison moved to either side of me. "Babe, can you take a picture?" the bride-to-be asked my best friend. "I want to immortalize this moment forever. C'mon, Addi, get closer. It will go in our wedding album. Tuck, if hedge-fund banking doesn't work for you anymore one day, modeling should be at the top of your list while applying for a new job."
I fake-grinned as Nick snapped a picture, his lips still stretched to his ears.
Anger seethed stronger in my bloodstream.
"Okay, stop. All of you. I need a bride. ASAP. Anyone. Find me a woman. Someone single. No way am I going to a bar later dressed like this on my own. It's supposed to be a bachelor party. Not a make-fun-of-Tucker night. I can embrace this T-shirt while we're here and give you something to talk about, but later I want an out. Think, people. Fast. Find me a fake bride, so I don't look like a stood-up groom who lost a bet."
Addison scrunched up her face and said, "Fine. I'll wear the other one. Are you happy now, Tucker baby? Geez. Where's your sense of humor?" She pushed the top of her dress down, not a care in the world that people could see her in a strapless, lacy red bra. The lace offered me a perfect view of her pink nipples, while she bunched her outfit around her waist. Fuck me already. My body reacted, recalling the events I couldn't. My skin overheated. My dick swelled. Eye-fucking me, she slid her arms into the matching T-shirt and adjusted it over her mesmerizing tits. Now that I got a glance, I'd never be able to unsee them. My mouth watered at the image of her round globes. Jesus, even that shirt looked bewitching on her. Her little act achieved what she wanted. She'd baited and hooked me, acting all innocent. Nick elbowed me in the ribs, offering me a drink, and it broke the spell I was under. The alcohol lined my throat and returned some moisture to my dry throat. My reaction to Addison undressing here was nothing short of fierce. The sting of jealousy surprised me. All these people had a front-row seat to the show and had peeked at what wasn't theirs to admire. Not that I had more right. Still. Somehow, it felt like I did.
"Stop ogling her like she's a piece of meat. Care to tell me what happened to your shirt?" Nick teased.
I sighed, downed the rest of my drink, and explained everything. Leaving out the parts where I'd daydreamed about ravaging her pussy while bending her over the hood of my rental.
From across the room, Addison watched me, sipping on a martini, eating olives from a pick, another vision hardening my dick. Was she playing with my sanity on purpose? Was she toying with me, knowing she was out of reach? Why did I fuck the devil last night? Now I was attuned to everything about her. Her smile. Her lips. Her rack. Her hips. Her legs. Fuck Nick. Why did I agree to stay away? I needed to bang that girl out of my system—and remember it. Once and for all.
Rule number one sucked. Big time. I couldn't wait for this wedding to be over to get my hands on the maid of honor. Then the rules would be outdated. Just a little over one month to go. I could live with that. At the pace she was infuriating me, sex with Addison Wilde wouldn't be soft. It would be animalistic. Yeah, I'd make up for all the times she got me tangled. I would ascertain the memory of my tongue between her legs haunted her forever. In the most excruciating flashbacks.
I'd bury myself so deep she'd never be able to not remember how good I felt between her legs.
Staking my claim, I stared back, my irises swallowing her whole. A chill ran through her. Even from the distance separating us, I saw it ripple the length of her. Her pulse ricocheted at the base of her throat. The games had just upped. And the reward would be so well-deserved and satisfying. I trembled at the thought. My lower-self hardened at the picture I painted in my mind.
"By week six, you'll beg me to end you, sweetheart," I mouthed behind my hand as I brought the tumbler to my lips.
And for the first time in months, I felt like my old self again. Alive and ready for the chase.