More Than a Convenient Bride Page 5

  He trained his eyes on her and...whoa. The heat smoldering in their dark depths could have burned a hole through her dress. That was a definite yes. Her heart flip-flopped, making her pulse race and her mouth go dry.

  “You want the truth?” he said.

  She nodded.

  He leaned in just a little closer. “I wanted everyone to leave the reception so I could lock the door, strip you naked, spread you on the table and lick wedding cake off every inch of your body.”

  “Every inch?”

  He grinned. “Every inch.”

  She knew there was a reason she should have wrapped up the leftover cake and brought it home.

  “However,” he added, “friends don’t do that.”

  “Some friends do. And I’m pretty sure I read somewhere that we have to consummate the marriage to make it official and legally binding.”

  “And I’m pretty sure you just made that up.”

  Yes, she had made it up. But she needed to kiss him again, feel his hands on her. Right now. Without her clothes getting in the way. It was their wedding night for heaven’s sake. Hadn’t she earned the right to jump his bones? Just this once? Would that really be such a terrible thing? Their friendship was solid. It would take a lot more than one night of sex to come between them. Or even two or three nights.

  His pajama bottoms did little to hide the erection pushing outward as if it was reaching for her touch. And oh, did she want to touch him.

  One strategically placed hand and he would be toast. Not to toot her own horn, but she knew her way around the male body. He wouldn’t be able to resist her, and he damn sure would walk away thoroughly satisfied. “So, you don’t think we should sleep together?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  What did he want her to do? Get down on her knees and beg? “You didn’t not say it, either.”

  “It’s been an emotional day, and we’ve had a lot to drink—”

  “Oh, I get it. Say no more. I would never want you to, you know, embarrass yourself.”

  His brows jumped upward. He knew she was up to something, and clearly he was enjoying the game just as much as she was. Verbal foreplay was highly underrated.

  “Embarrass myself how?”

  “You’re worried about your performance. Alcohol can make things a little, well, limp.”

  He glanced down to his crotch, then back up to her. “That’s obviously not the case.”

  No, it wasn’t. And enough playing around already. She was ready to get to the good stuff.

  “Are you sure?” She reached out and wrapped her hand around his hard-on through his pajamas, giving it a firm squeeze. Holy cow, he was big.

  Luc groaned and leaned into her hand, clutching the doorjamb in a white-knuckled grip, his eyes never leaving her face. He was hers, no question.

  “I guess you’re right—everything seems to be in working order. But just to be sure...” She slipped her hand under his waistband and around his erection, skin against skin, giving it a couple of slow strokes, teasing the tip with the pad of her thumb. “Feels good to me.”

  His eyes turned black with desire. She almost had him. Most men would have caved by now, but Luc had a steel will.

  “You’re positively sure you want to do this?” he said.

  At this point, how could he even ask her that? Wasn’t it obvious that she wanted him? “Without a doubt.”

  “You’re not worried that it will change things between us?”

  “One time? It’s not as if we’re going to make a habit of this.” She squeezed and felt him pulse against her palm. “Besides, we spent half the day making out and now I’m standing here with my hand in your pants. If something was going to change, wouldn’t it have already?”

  “So what you’re saying is, the damage is already done?”

  “In a manner of speaking.” He was making a bigger deal out of this than was warranted. But he was a planner. He liked to think ahead, plot out his every move. Which, she supposed, was why he was such an accomplished surgeon. She, on the other hand, was more of a live-in-the-moment, fly-by-the-seat-of-her-pants girl. They sat on opposite ends of the spectrum. He was all about duty and honor and doing the right thing. She believed in trying new things and taking chances. Living life to the fullest and going where the wind took her.

  Tonight, the wind was blowing her in the direction of his bed.

  Knowing Luc the way she did, she knew exactly how this would play out. He would caress her as he slowly removed her clothes, taking his time. Her pleasure would be his main priority because that’s the kind of man he was. Always putting the needs of others before his own. She would let him take his time, and when they were both good and worked up, she would take over. If this was going to be the only time they slept together, she planned to give him a night that he would never forget. And if they decided to do it again, well, that was okay, too.

  That was her plan at least, but Luc was playing by a totally different set of rules. He looked at her as if he were a hunter stalking its prey, and then he lunged and went all caveman on her. One second her feet were on the ground, and the next, she was hanging over his shoulder, which was more than wide enough to accommodate her. She gasped and clutched his back, dizzy with desire and a little disoriented as he kicked the door closed and carried her across the room to his bed. And there was nothing gentle about the way he tossed her down on the comforter.

  Who was this man and why was she just now meeting him? And how, after all these years of friendship, could she have pegged him so wrong?

  He knelt on the mattress beside her, his hand resting on her inner thigh, and all she could think was more. He slid the hand up under the hem of her dress. His fingertips grazed the crotch of her panties, no more than a tickle. She sucked in a breath and her thighs parted, straining against the skirt of her dress.

  He pulled his hand away and her back arched, her body seeking out his touch. “Did I mention how sexy you look in this dress?”

  “Thanks. I don’t usually wear them,” she said, the words coming out all breathy and uneven. She couldn’t seem to pull enough air into her lungs. What happened to all the oxygen?

  “I’m going to buy you a dozen more.”

  If this was the reaction she got when she wore a dress, maybe that would be a bad idea. Or a good one. She wasn’t sure. Suddenly everything felt backward and upside down.

  He was back under her dress, tugging her panties down. There was nothing slow about the way he undressed her. Or gentle. Then he took his pajama bottoms off...

  Yikes. He wouldn’t be the only one walking away satisfied. This was going to be fun.

  She tried to push him onto his back but it was like trying to move a brick wall. She wound up on her back instead, and when she reached out to touch him, he pinned her arms over her head, a move that would normally trigger a sense of panic. He wouldn’t let her take control, which both frustrated and aroused her. But she knew deep in her heart that she was safe with him. She usually felt threatened by sexually aggressive men, but she wanted him to dominate her. She trusted Luc, so she did something she had never done before. She dropped her guard and let go, let him be the one in charge.

  It was as cathartic as it was exciting. And Luc held nothing back, stroking here, kissing there. Licking and biting and flipping her around until she felt like a pretzel, so he could explore every inch of her body. He knew exactly what she liked, what she needed, without her having to say a thing. Besides, she was too busy gasping and moaning to form intelligible words. He teased her relentlessly. And every time she thought she was getting the upper hand, he turned the tables on her again. She’d orgasmed twice, and was headlong into number three when he rolled her onto her back and settled over her.

  He didn’t ask her if she was ready, or if she was having second thoughts. They
were both too far gone for that. He parted her thighs with his knee and thrust inside her. She savored the sweet stretch of her body accepting him, his weight pressing her into the mattress as he eased back, then thrust again. And again, picking up speed, but with more hip action this time. Pretty much all she could do was wrap her legs around his hips and hang on for the ride. Pleasure rippled through her in hot waves, her body clenching down around him like a vise as orgasm number three took hold.

  After that things got very fuzzy. And rowdy. And a little loud. He asked a lot of questions, too. “Do you like this?” “Does this feel good?” He must have told her a dozen times that she was beautiful, that she was the sexiest woman he’d ever seen. “By leaps and bounds,” he said. And he wasn’t shy about telling her what he wanted, and exactly how she should do it. “Touch me here, lick me there. Faster. Slower. Just like that.” She’d never been with a man so chatty during sex. Or bossy. But the best part by far was watching him reach his peak, seeing him completely let go, knowing that she was the one making him feel that way.

  When it was over, and they lay there in a sweaty tangle, she couldn’t seem to wipe the smile from her face, until she realized, with considerable horror, that she hadn’t given a single freaking thought to birth control.

  * * *

  Luc lay with Julie, his leg resting between hers, one arm under her neck, the other draped across her stomach. “I guess an annulment is out of the question now,” he joked, and without warning Julie shot up in bed, nearly dumping him over the edge onto the floor—the hardwood floor—and spewed a string of expletives.

  Luc sat up beside her. He put a hand on her shoulder and she jumped, as if she’d forgotten he was there. “It was a joke, Julie.”

  “Oh my God,” she said, looking panicked, the color leaching from her face. “I can’t believe we did this. How could I be so stupid?”

  But it had been some of the best sex he’d ever had, and she had seemed to enjoy herself, too. “Don’t you think it’s a little late to be having second thoughts?”

  She looked puzzled, then said, “I’m not having second thoughts. At least, not in the way you think.”

  “In what way, then?”

  “This is probably a dumb question under the circumstances, but did we just have unprotected sex?”

  Is that what this was about? “Relax, you’re not going to catch anything from me.”

  “I know that,” she said. “But unless you’re sterile, we could have bigger problems.”

  Whoa, wait a minute. “I thought you were on the Pill. You told me you were.”

  Her eyes went wide with indignation. “When did I say that? I never said that.”

  “A couple of years ago. You were complaining that it made you nauseous.”

  “Which is why I stopped taking it.”

  Aw, hell. He should have asked. He was a doctor, after all. He knew better than to assume. Which is why he always kept condoms on hand. They were in the drawer in his bedside table, not two feet away. “This is my fault. I should have checked with you first.”

  “No, I’m just as much to blame. It never even crossed my mind.” She dropped her head in her hands. “How could I be so careless? I don’t want a baby. Definitely not now, maybe not ever.”

  “Before you get all panicked, stop and think about where you are in your cycle.”

  She took a deep breath, looking so tense she could have snapped like a twig. It took her several seconds to collect herself, then she said, “I’m due to start my period in a couple of days. A week tops.”

  “Then, we’re probably fine. The odds are pretty slim that you would conceive so late in your cycle.”

  “Is that your official medical opinion?”

  “It is.” There was a sprinkle of optimism in his tone for good measure. And on the bright side, it wouldn’t be long before they knew for sure.

  “You’re right,” she said, sounding a little less freaked out. She rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry I got so upset.”

  He put his arm around her shoulder, drawing her closer. “No apology required.”

  She was quiet for a moment, then said, “Just so you know, I don’t usually sleep with men on the first date. But since our first date was our wedding, I thought I could make an exception.”

  “I understand.”

  She smiled up at him. “That was really good, by the way. The sex, I mean.”

  “Was?”

  She looked confused.

  “There is no ‘was.’” He lay back and pulled her on top of him. “We’re just getting started.”

  Six

  Julie woke slowly the next morning to the sound of water running. Her first thought was that the leaky pipe under her bathroom sink had finally burst. Eyes too heavy to open, she reached over to grab her phone off the bedside table, but it was gone. Not just her phone, but the table itself wasn’t there. She pried her eyes open only to realize that this was not her bedroom. Not even her apartment. She lived with Luc now, and the sound of the running water was coming from his bathroom. Then she recalled last night and a smile curled her lips.

  Best. Sex. Ever.

  She had always assumed, because Luc was so reserved and practical, that he would be the same way in bed. Boy, was she wrong. Hours later she still felt limp as a dishrag and sore in places she didn’t know could get sore. If she knew he would be that good she would have jumped him years ago. Just thinking about it was getting her all worked up again. Then she remembered that they forgot to use a condom the first time and her heart sank a little. But Luc was right, the odds were low she would get pregnant. And if she had, they would deal with it. At least they were married. Right?

  She sat up and looked around for her phone, finding it in her purse on the floor beside the bed. It was 8:00 a.m., which was early even for her. Sundays were the only days she allowed herself to sleep in. She typically dragged herself out of bed around ten, went for a run around the track at the high school, then showered and sometimes met Lark for brunch. But not today. She looked at the platinum band on the ring finger of her left hand. She was a newlywed. A married woman.

  That was going to take some getting used to.

  The water shut off, and a minute later she could hear Luc humming to himself—one of those country songs he loved so much—while he shaved. She’d only ever heard him hum when he was in a good mood. And why wouldn’t he be after last night?

  He would be out of the bathroom any minute now and she really should go to her own room, lest she be tempted to pounce on him. But she wanted to see him. She wrestled with her options, but before she could make a decision, the bathroom door opened and Luc stepped out. And boy was she glad that she stayed. He wore a towel slung low on his hips, his dark hair damp, his face cleanly shaven and smooth. Droplets of water clung to his chest, rolling down his pecs and over those wonderfully ripped abs.

  She usually looked like a beast in the morning, her hair askew, pillow creases on her cheek, and she imagined the liner and mascara had smeared under her eyes for that charming raccoon effect, but he’d seen her looking worse.

  “Good morning,” he said, looking surprised to see her awake.

  “G’morning. You’re up early.”

  He shrugged. “Habit.”

  He was usually at the hospital by 7:00 a.m. to start his rounds, but this was Sunday, not to mention their honeymoon. Technically speaking.

  He sat on the edge of the bed beside her and kissed her forehead. If he was put off by her appearance he didn’t say so. “Sleep well?”

  “Like the dead.” When she had finally gotten to sleep, which hadn’t been until 3:00 a.m. or so. In typical man style he’d fallen asleep before her, about a half an hour earlier. For a long time she’d lain there wrapped up in his arms, listening to his slow even breaths, wishing they could
hit Rewind and relive the night all over again. “How about you? Sleep well?”

  “Great. How are you feeling this morning?”

  How was she feeling? “A little sore, actually. You gave me quite the workout.”

  “Jules, I don’t mean physically.”

  She didn’t think so. “I’m not having regrets, if that’s what you mean. Are you?”

  “Nope. I do feel a little guilty for not feeling guilty, if that makes any sense.”

  “I know exactly what you mean.”

  “Are you sorry that we can’t have a honeymoon?” he asked.

  “Not at all. You have responsibilities. We both do. In fact, I was thinking about going into work for a while today.”

  “You can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I read somewhere that a marriage isn’t official unless the newlyweds spend the day after their wedding together.”

  Oh, so they were going to play this game again. “Did it say what we have to do?”

  “We have to have sex again. Then lunch, and maybe a walk in the park. Or we could combine the two and have a picnic, weather permitting.”

  That sounded like fun. “What then?”

  “More sex, of course.”

  Of course. “And after that?”

  “A candlelight dinner.”

  “Then more sex?”

  “Obviously.” He shot her one of those steamy smiles. “And we should get started right away. You know, to make it official.”

  He hooked the edge of the covers and slowly eased them down, revealing her breasts, which were covered in love bites, then her stomach, then the tops of her thighs. Here we go again, she thought, struck by how natural it felt. How comfortable she was with him, as if they had been sleeping together all along. And at the same time it felt exciting and new.

  His hand, which was still warm from his shower, came to rest on her thigh, then trailed slowly upward, his touch light, it was barely more than a tickle. Her legs parted, giving him space to play around, but they were interrupted by a firm rap on his bedroom door. He mumbled a curse, removed his hand and pulled the covers back up over her.