Baiting the Maid of Honor (14 page)

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Authors: Tessa Bailey

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Military, #series, #cop, #bad boy, #entangled publishing, #Brazen, #line of duty, #erotic, #kristen ashley, #unfixable, #Contemporary Romance

BOOK: Baiting the Maid of Honor
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nipples in heat. Heat that shot straight to her core, making her muscles contract and release. Making

her damp and achy. Reed’s hands rose as if to fondle her breasts, but she shook her head in reproach

and moved away slightly as punishment.

“Know what I think, baby? You love making my cock hard. You’ve been living for it since that first

night.” He leaned forward slightly, gaze riveted on her chest. “I’ve been living for it, too. I’ve been

stroking myself off to the memory of how you looked at me on that patio. Like you were a little

nervous and a lot turned on. Did you go back to your seat in the fancy restaurant and cross your legs

tighter than before? Were you planning on going back to your room later that night and imagining the

big bad man touching your pussy?”


Yes.

Yearning, dizzyingly potent, rocketed through Julie, so swift she feared her knees might buckle. She

turned slowly, so he couldn’t see how much his uncensored speech affected her. Increasing the pace

of her hips, she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her skirt and tugged it down just enough that

he could see the top of her silky teal-colored thong. The performance, her secret fantasy come to life,

emboldened her. Made her want to shock him back. She flicked her hair over her shoulder and looked

at him through hooded eyes. “If I had pleasured myself that night, Reed, you wouldn’t have been

touching me with your hand. In my fantasy, you would have been deep, deep inside of me. Telling me

what a bad thing I’d done.”

“What bad thing did you do, baby?” His voice sounded raw.

“When you showed up at the party, I might have gone to the bathroom and…hiked my skirt up a

little higher for you. I knew you’d be watching me.”

“Sweet fucking hell.”

Julie let her skirt drop, leaving her in nothing but the minuscule panties. Reed’s loud groan caused

any lingering self-consciousness to fade as Julie arched her back, bent her knees and ground her hips

as low as she could go toward the ground. He let out a string of curses as she rose gradually, dancing

erotically to the pounding beat of the music.

“Come closer, baby. Need you closer.
Now
, pixie.”

The desire in his voice tore at her own, sending it clamoring through her system. She needed to be

closer, to touch, just as badly as he needed it. Still facing away from him, she gripped his knees and

lowered her bottom onto his lap, gasping at the hardness she encountered. She switched her hips from

a circular motion to a gentle front-to-back tease that allowed her to ride his length base to tip. “You

like that, sugar?” she whispered, barely audible among the bass-heavy music.

He released a strangled growl against her neck. “Enough teasing. Sit down all the way and work

my cock with your beautiful ass. No more games.”

Julie closed her eyes and released a shaky breath. This had started as
her
seduction, but she was

quickly being driven crazy by the man beneath her. Reed might not be touching her with his hands, but

his body radiated heat, promise, need. In electrifying waves. And Julie was quickly going under.

“Like this?” She leaned back on his chest and draped her legs over his strong thighs. Dropping her

head back onto his shoulder, she gave him a view down her body as she undulated on his lap, his

erection wedged snugly against her bottom, pulsing, lengthening. Ever so slightly, his hips pumped in

a rolling, upward motion, stealing her sanity.

“Call me sugar again.”

“Like this, sugar?”

“Yes, sexy girl. Just like that.” He bit into her shoulder, thrusting up hard at the same time. “Feel

that? Feel what you did?”

“Yes.” She moaned. “I feel it.”

“You want it?”

She nodded frantically.

“I’m warning you right now, it’s going to be a rough ride. If you’re not ready for it yet, I’ll put you

on your knees for a while to take my edge off.”

Julie’s heart pounded so loud, it felt like it might exit her chest. His words were pushing her past

her breaking point. Words that should offend her, alarm her. Instead, she only wanted
more
. She

wanted Reed’s brand of rough. Wanted to be the object of his lust, his reason for losing control.

When she slipped a hand underneath the waistband of her panties, his breathing grew even more

labored. She found the bundle of nerves, aching for his touch, and circled her middle finger around it

once. “I don’t want your edge off. I don’t want to be treated like a lady.” She tipped her head to the

side, whimpering as his lips licked and sucked at her neck. “I want you to deliver on all the promises

you’ve made. I want everything you’ve got.”

At once, he surged out of the chair with a growl, carrying her with him. He pushed her down over a

smooth cedar bureau, bent over with her hips in the air, and yanked the panties down her legs. Julie

looked at her reflection in the attached mirror, amazed at the woman staring back at her. She looked

drugged, desperate, out of control. Such a departure from her usual unruffled composure. Behind her,

Reed’s features were drawn together tightly as he ripped open a condom wrapper and rolled it down

his thick length with jerky movements.

With one powerful drive, Reed finally entered her. The pressure was so great, so delicious, that

Julie bit her lip and screamed, hands scrambling for purchase on the wood bureau top. Through

partially blind eyes, she looked up at Reed’s reflection to find an expression of undiluted pleasure on

his face. But it quickly transformed into a need for more, as he wrapped her hair around his fist and

jerked it back.

“You will never dance like that again. You will
never
hike your skirt up again. Never.” He pulled

out slightly, then thrust back into her hard. “Not unless it’s for me. Is that understood?”

Julie cried out. “
Yes
.”

“Not good enough.” He hooked his arm under her left knee and yanked it waist-level, grunting in

satisfaction as his hips pumped, driving deeper with each upward push. The position made her arch

her back in a way that put him right where she needed him, every thrust finding its mark. “Say, ‘Yes,

Reed, I understand. I’ll be a good girl from now on.’”

When she didn’t answer fast enough, he bit her shoulder in warning. “I’ll be a good girl,” she half

sobbed, half whispered.

He dropped his head forward on a groan and increased his pace, pinning Julie’s hips to the hard

surface, forcing her to receive his rigid arousal over and over, until her legs began to quake, her skin

started to prickle with the oncoming orgasm.

“You’re starting to tighten up on me, baby. Do you want my fingers to massage you between your

legs?”

“God, yes.
Please
.”

“No.”

Their gazes connected in the mirror. Hers frantic, questioning. His, unreadable. “That first night, I

told you, no touching yourself. Not even with your right hand. You broke the rule during your little

dance. You can’t have my fingers.”


Reed
.”

His dark laughter grazed her neck. “I’ll make an exception. If you accept a different punishment

later, I’ll rub your hot little clit right now.”

“Fine…just…oh, please.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes!”

The arm beneath her knee tightened and yanked her leg even higher, propping it on the bureau.

Leaving her provocatively exposed in a way that stole oxygen from her lungs. His thrusts became

longer, more measured as he reached around to slide two fingers on either side of her clitoris. He

pinched it lightly between his knuckles and squeezed, before giving her what she needed. The pads of

his middle and ring finger petted her delicately at first, then faster and with more pressure. Julie could

only shut her eyes and accept the tumult of sensations as they began lashing mercilessly at her body.

His erection moved, thick and unyielding, inside of her, Reed pounding out his own need while

lengthening her powerful climax. Shattering every notion she’d ever had about intimacy.

She felt him pulse hot inside of her, stretching her, ready to give in. He gripped her chin and lifted

her head so it faced the mirror. “Watch me. Watch me finish, baby. You need to see what you did.”

When she nodded, his movements grew jerky, yet somehow even more determined. Ever so slightly,

he tightened his grip on her jaw until her mouth opened from the pressure. He pushed his fingers

inside. “Suck.”

Julie didn’t question, she simply closed her lips around his fingers, drew on them as hard as she

could. And watched Reed come apart behind her.

Chapter Twelve

Reed cinched the white towel around his waist and stared blindly at his reflection in the fogged-up

bathroom mirror. For the first time since he could remember, he wondered what someone else thought

when they looked at him. Ugly, painful-looking scars, one at his hip, another slashing down from his

collarbone. An unruly mess of tattoos running together, none of them with any particular meaning

except to cover him up. To keep people away.

Why hadn’t it worked with Julie?

Not wanting to look at himself any longer, he turned and leaned back on the marble sink, crossing

his arms over his chest. And tried not to blink. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her in the

mirror. Hair a gorgeous mess, lips swollen and damp, breasts bouncing up and down from the force

of his thrusts.

“Hell.” Reed dragged his hands down his face, feeling himself harden beneath the towel. Thank

Christ she’d gone back to her room to shower, or they’d be at it again. Not that it had been easy letting

her walk out of the room, looking more than a little shell-shocked by their heated encounter, followed

by his sudden silence. His less-than-warm treatment of her after the hottest damn sex of his life. He’d

wanted to say something to make her smile, but the words never came.

Truthfully, he still couldn’t come up with words to describe what the hell had taken place between

them. Consensual sex between two adults didn’t cover it. He’d demanded
promises
from her; he’d

held nothing of himself back. Two things he’d never done, not with any woman. When he’d tried to

chalk it up to the heat of the moment, he immediately discarded the notion. An hour later, the thought

of another man looking at her, watching her dance, made him grind his knuckles into the counter. He

couldn’t even contemplate it without adrenaline blasting through his veins, demanding more

assurances from her.

Where the hell did he get off asking for reassurance? Promises? He had no use for them. Certainly

couldn’t make any of his own. He’d break them…wouldn’t he? Broken promises were his legacy.

They ran in his family. Julie probably came from a long line of honorable men who kept their word.

Men whose word meant something in the first place.

She’d marry a man like that someday.

Long minutes passed before Reed could think clearly again, the idea of Julie marrying another man

having wrapped around his throat to choke him. He sucked in a deep breath and left the bathroom to

go dress. What were his options? Option one: cut things off with Julie now, try to keep his distance

from her the rest of the week, and never see her again? Reed almost laughed. He’d nearly gone to her

seconds after she left his room this afternoon. Four more days? Not a hope in hell of his lasting that

long. They hadn’t even spoken about the fact that they lived in the same city. If he didn’t get rid of this

infatuation
now
, knowing she was so close would drive him slowly insane.

That left him with option two: stop thinking so damn much, make the most of the time she allowed

him, and fuck her so well, so thoroughly, she would never forget him for the rest of her perfect,

privileged life.

Option two it is.

Reed yanked a black T-shirt over his head and strode to the door. He paused with his hand on the

knob. Perhaps this decision wasn’t exactly wise. The pull he felt toward Julie wouldn’t lessen the

more time he spent with her. It might even strengthen. Reed rested his forehead against the door. He

thought of her alone in her room, wondering if she’d done something wrong. Wondering if she’d ever

feel him inside her again. It made him crazy. He didn’t know where this urge to soothe, to reassure,

came from. It felt primitive. As if it had always been there, sitting unused in some hidden part of him,

gaining strength. Now the urge blasted him like volcanic ash. She would be
his
Julie. At least for the

next four days.

The second he referred to Julie as
his
, the jealous beast within him lay down, relaxed for the first

time since she’d left. He didn’t know what that meant, only that if he stayed away from her, the

anxious feeling would return. Decision made, he left the room at a brisk pace.

Minutes later, he stood outside her door, impatient to see her. Before he could knock, he heard her

muffled voice on the other side, sounding upset. Only
her
voice, however, suggesting she was alone.

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