Down the Aisle (2 page)

Lacey took it and fanned her boiling cheeks before swallowing a big sip.

“I think you’re going to have to keep it coming if you want to me to get over this one.”

“You know this wasn’t my idea, right?” Courtney’s heart-shaped face was scrunched with worry as they weaved their way to the round lacquer table where Cat had been sitting a second before. A couple ladies patted her back and wished her luck as she passed, and she smiled and waved.

Lacey gestured to a chair, and Courtney sat. “Listen, Cat and I have been friends for twenty years. She’s been dragging me into her crazy our whole lives, so I know exactly who the mastermind was.”

Courtney‘s face collapsed with relief. “I was afraid you’d be mad, but Cat said you’d forgive us. Plus, she said it was on your bucket list to come to one of these clubs.”

Lacey narrowed her eyes. “Wait. I don’t have a bucket list. Cat is the one who—”

“I made you one,” Cat said as she bustled across the checkered faux tiles with three shot glasses full of pink liquid. “Like four years ago. You’ve already crossed eighteen things off it.” She set the glasses down and held her hand up for a high five. Lacey skipped the high five, glaring at her instead.

“You made
me
a bucket list?”

“Yep.” She sat down and chair danced, not even having the grace to look contrite.

“You realize that a bucket list is a list of things a person wants to do before they die, right? It’s not supposed to be a list of things
Cat
thinks you should do before you die.”

Cat shrugged her slim shoulders. “Six of one, half dozen of the other.”

“No. No, not really,” Lacey began and then thought better of it. What difference did it make? This was the last week of her single life and their lives together as single besties. If Cat wanted to spend it with her in a kitschy strip club, she was going to make the best of it. The hard part was over. She’d taken her lickings—albeit under duress—and now she could sit back, have a few drinks, talk with her friends, and ignore the gyrating men on stage. Then tomorrow, when she’d slept off her hangover, she could talk to Galen about the issue she’d been putting off for so long now. The only thing that would have been left on her real bucket list, if she’d had one.

She shook off the sudden melancholy and pasted on a smile. “These shots aren’t going to drink themselves.”

Courtney and Cat both whooped and grabbed their glasses. “Down the hatch,” Lacey said, and they drank. That shot was the first of many, and by the time the dancers had packed away their oil and g-strings, Lacey was well and truly drunk.

“So who else is coming?” she asked idly, counting the glasses in front of her. She’d drunk more than her fair share, but kept losing track.

“No one, why?”

She leveled Cat with a frown. “You said I’d be letting people down if I didn’t come along, remember?”

Cat shifted in her seat and nodded, motioning to the strangers milling around. “Yeah. All these nice ladies were waiting on you. Not to mention old Officer Steele and Thor.”

She reapplied her lip gloss casually, and Lacey tried to muster the will to strangle her, but it never came. Heck, who cared? She’d gotten through it, and now she was pleasantly buzzed and having a great time with her friends. She gave up with a snort and slumped back, her attention caught by the black hood on the corner of the table.

She picked it up and shook it out to see it more clearly. “Wow, this thing is pretty fancy for a gag. What’s that made of, velvet?”

Cat shrugged. “I guess so.”

“Where did you even get it?”

“Rafe let me borrow it. He was there when we were telling Shane about our plans. We were just going to go to the dollar store to get a cheap mask, and he offered to let us use his stuff.” Cat scooted in closer and looked around before whispering so loud, anyone who wanted to listen would have heard her anyway. “He came back with all kinds of stuff. Restraints, a hood, the blindfold, you should’ve seen it all.”

Rafe was a friend of Galen and Cat’s boyfriend, Shane. He was a detective at their local Police Department, so the cuffs made sense. But the hood?

“Why would he have all that stuff?”

“Rafe has…interesting taste,” Cat said, her green eyes going comically wide.

“What does that mean?” Courtney asked, dragging her bar stool closer, curiosity lighting her face.

“Well,” Cat gave a furtive glance around before continuing. “I guess he likes it rough and wild.”

Lacey mulled that over for a second then shrugged. Probably a well-placed tie around the eyes and some spanking. That wasn’t so wild. Heck, she was a notorious prude, and she and Galen had done that plenty of times, the old slap—

“With cat-o-nine-tails and public sex.”

Oh, snap.
Well that was different.

“He wouldn’t give me all the details—and believe me”—Cat rolled her eyes—“it wasn’t for lack of trying.”

Courtney sat back with a thud, her cheeks highlighted with twin flags of red. “For real? I thought that kind of stuff was just in books and movies.”

“Nope. And apparently, it’s not just a preference.” Her friend let that sit for a second before delivering the knockout, pounding her fist on the table for dramatic effect. “It’s a requirement.”

“What is?” Courtney asked, her face a mask of shock.

Lacey didn’t know whether to give her earmuffs or a cigarette. She weaved on her seat a little, forgot what they’d been talking about, and idly wondered if they served French fries. Pink shots and bubbly were a surprisingly potent mix.

“Submission.” Again with the Hitchcock drama, and Lacey found herself grinning like a fool.

Courtney let out a squeak. “Like,” she glanced around and dropped her voice low enough that Lacey had to close one eye and try to lip read. “
Fifty Shades
?”

Right. Rafe. Kinky. Check.
She wondered about those fries again and then reluctantly focused back in on the conversation. It
was
a pretty juicy bit of gossip.

“I didn’t read that book,” Cat said, “But I’ve been around him and various girlfriends before—”

“Me too,” Lacey cut in. “And he never seemed like he’d be into that or anything. He’s just…regular.” Then again, how would she know what he did in bed? She was pretty sure he didn’t know some of the freaky stuff she and Galen did. She paused to wave at the waitress and flag down another round. If she couldn’t have fries, at least maybe she could get one more little drink—

“Well, well, well,” a low voice whispered in her ear. “I hear you’re getting married, but maybe one last fling with a stranger would be—”

Her heart stuttered at the feel of a hand on her thigh. Lacey whipped around and popped the handsy stranger right in the gut.

“Jesus, squirt, what’s up with that?” Galen growled, rubbing his stomach. “I thought you’d be happy to see me, and instead I get one to the bread basket. How’s that for a welcome?”

Her soon-to-be husband, ex-boxer, and current fox, Galen Thomas, towered over her. She really must have been buzzed if she hadn’t sensed him because she sure as hell sensed him now. Her whole body lit up like a glow stick.

She stood and leaned into him. “Hi, baby,” she cooed, and then hiccupped.

He tugged her tighter against him and patted her bottom. “I’m going to kill my sister for this if she got you too drunk to enjoy what I’m going to do to you when we get home,” he murmured, then bent low to take her mouth in a slow, sweet kiss.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, can’t we have her for one night?” Cat groaned.

Galen pulled back with a reluctant sigh. “You’ve had her for hours. And when Shane told me what your plans were, I knew my damsel was in some serious distress, so I came to rescue her. If you don’t like it, you can kiss my—”

“Take it easy there, buddy.” Shane came up behind them and grinned. “She may be your sister, but she’s my lady now, and I can’t have you cursing at her.”

Cat waggled her tongue at Galen and then ran up to plaster herself against Shane. “I didn’t know you were here, too. I guess we can let it go, then.”

Rafe brought up the rear and gave the group as a whole a casual wave. “I’m pretty sure me being here breaks some sort of law,” he said with a crooked grin.

By now the show was over, so the place had turned into a pretty standard dance club, albeit every so often an oily half-naked guy would walk by. Funny enough, Lacey realized through her cozy, alcohol-induced haze, had Rafe brought his cuffs he would’ve fit right in. At a solid six feet with coal black hair and eyes to match, he looked both sexy and kind of dangerous. She’d never really seen him in that light before, but now with all the talk of him and the spankings and the toys, she imagined some girl would find herself pretty lucky. And judging by the look on Courtney’s face, she was torn between thinking the same thing and the exact opposite.

Interesting.

Lacey stepped away from Galen and waved them all to grab some chairs. “They might as well stay, right guys?” she asked, sending Courtney a pouty face.

She nodded, although reluctantly. “Sure.”

Lacey hated making her feel like the fifth wheel, but maybe if she played her cards right, she and Rafe could find some common ground.

“So, Rafe, I hear you like to tie women up?” Courtney said, an innocent expression on her angelic face. She popped a maraschino cherry into her mouth and chomped down. So much for playing cards right. That sounded downright confrontational.

Rafe reclined back on his chair, and a slow smile spread across his lips. “Did you, now?” He spared a dead-eyed glance at Cat, and she shrugged.

“What? You didn’t say it was a secret, and it’s way too juicy to keep to myself.”

Shane tugged at a red curl hanging over her eye and shook his head. “It makes my blood run cold imagining what you tell people about our sex life.”

Cat grinned and leaned in to kiss him on the mouth. “It shouldn’t. You should be very proud. They’ve heard nothing but good things, right ladies?”

Galen was rubbing Lacey’s back in slow circles and she was too mesmerized to answer properly, so she held up her index fingers, gauging about eight inches apart.

Courtney cracked out a laugh, and the guys all groaned.

“I knew you shared notes about that,” Galen said, shaking his head. “It’s a man’s personal business, you know. A lady shouldn’t kiss and tell.”

“I think the saying is that a gentleman shouldn’t kiss and tell,” Courtney said, taking a long gulp of her mai tai. “Nobody ever said anything about a lady. But back to Rafe.” She pinned him with her clear, hazel gaze and asked him again. “What’s the deal with you and the BDSM chatter I’m hearing tonight?”

The others got quiet, and Lacey wondered what the heck was going on. They’d been joking around about it, but suddenly Courtney’s interest seemed like more than just idle curiosity and tipsy conversation. She was a confirmed bachelorette and had insisted that she wasn’t in the market for any kind of relationship with a man. So why the sudden concern about Rafe’s sex life?

Rafe gave her a long, hard look and even from the sidelines, Lacey found herself wriggling in her seat. The two had only hung out in the group a handful of times, and Lacey didn’t recall this tension between them before, but maybe she just hadn’t been looking for it. Now, even Galen and Shane were paying attention.

“What do you want to know, Court?”

The words were spoken softly, like a challenge, and for a second, it looked like her friend might back down. But she threw her shoulders back and met him head on.

“Does it make you feel more like a man to dominate your lover?”

Cat winced with a whispered, “Day-um,” and the rest of them waited silently for Rafe’s response.

“No more than it makes my lover feel more like a woman when she submits to me.”

Courtney’s mouth formed an “o” before her eyes narrowed. “That’s what you like to tell yourself, I’m sure. But don’t you worry that doing things to a woman when she’s helpless and fantasizing about hurting her is a gateway to abuse? I have to wonder if it starts with a spanking in a bedroom and leads to a beating out of one.” Her questions were harsh, but the way she licked her lips nervously when she delivered them took away some of their fire.

Rafe seemed to consider her words but then shook his head. “Nope. You can wonder all you want, but if I deliver pain, it’s only to intensify the pleasure later. I would never harm a woman, and I spend a lot of my work day hunting down men who do.” He pushed back his chair and stood. “Now, if you’re through grilling me about my sexual practices, which you have no understanding or knowledge of, then I’m going to get myself a drink. Unless what you’re really asking for is a lesson? In which case,” he glanced at his watch and then locked gazes with a shaken Courtney. “You can pick up that hood and those cuffs, and I’d be glad to take you outside in the alley and give you the best ten minutes of your life.”

She stuttered and flushed, but then got hold of herself and flashed him a tight smile. “As tempting as that is, if ten minutes is all you’ve got in you, I think I’ll pass.”

His responding grin was positively lethal. “Ten minutes isn’t all I’ve got.” He bent low until his face was level with hers, and they all leaned in to hear his softly spoken words. “Ten minutes is all you could handle.”

Chapter Two

“Whew,” Lacey groaned, fanning her face as she leaned out the window two hours later. “That was something, right?”

Galen kept his eyes on the road and nodded. “Yeah, it was something all right.”

“I mean with Court and Rafe. What was up with that? There were sparks flying like crazy. I just don’t know if they were the good kind or the bad kind.”

“I think they were a little of both.” It had been a fun night, in spite of the tension between their two friends, but things with him and Lacey had been tense since this last round of fertility drugs had failed, and more than anything they needed some time together to bridge the gap that had been forming between them. Now, his wife-to-be was buzzed and amped, and he couldn’t wait to get her home.

“I was so shocked to hear about Rafe and his…preferences. Crazy, right?”

Galen shook his head and took one hand off the wheel to lace his fingers with hers. “Nope. I knew already.”

“You
knew
? Why didn’t you tell me?” Lacey asked, shifting to face him with an indignant frown.

Galen thought about it and then shrugged. “What possible reason would there be for that discussion?”

It wasn’t really anyone’s business what Rafe did behind closed doors…or in public, as it were, but still, he knew she hated being the last to know.

“We’re supposed to tell each other everything!” She slumped back into her seat and crossed her arms to sulk.

“Well then, let me tell you everything.” He proceeded to go through his workout for the day, what he ate, the conversation he had with his manager at the gym, and his discussion with the dry cleaner about the NFL draft, and within three minutes, his fiancé was dead asleep.

He tucked a honey colored lock of hair behind her ear and grinned. He had big plans when they got home, and if she didn’t wake up by the time they got there, they’d have to be postponed. But it was hard to be annoyed with her. She was so damned cute when she was drunk. She let out a soft snore, and he took that as his cue to drive a little slower so she could work in a power nap.

He pulled onto the main road and headed toward their house, which would officially be their first home together as a married couple. It was a nice place, especially since Lacey had moved in. She had great taste, and even though he’d had to give up his
Sports Illustrated
collection and move his keg-erator into the basement, he still preferred it now to life BL.

Life Before Lacey had been pretty empty. He loved his parents and sister and had a great core of friends with Shane, Rafe, and some of his old boxing buddies, but he’d never had a partner before. Not like this.

Which was why it was especially hard to see her so down lately. He knew the baby thing was weighing on her, but they were both young, and they had plenty of time to work on that some more. Once they’d found out their window of opportunity was closing due to Lacey’s medical issue, they’d done everything they could to get themselves into a position to be parents ASAP. Signed up with an adoption agency—and nearly had gotten a baby, but that had fallen through— and had just interviewed with another expectant birth mother and were waiting to hear. Not to mention the three rounds of fertility treatments that hadn’t taken. They were doing everything in their power, and the rest was out of their hands. Now it was just a waiting game.

His fiancé shifted in the leather seat and muttered something about “adding more gerbera daisies,” which he assumed was some reference to the wedding flowers. As much as he hated all the fussy details and didn’t know a Jordan almond from a French twist, he’d been doing his share, because the last thing he wanted was to add to the stress she’d been under.

It was such a relief to see her without that cloud of low-level sadness hanging over her for the first time in weeks, and he’d do just about anything to keep it at bay. So if they needed more gerbera daisies, he was on it.

She hunkered lower in her seat, murmuring his name on a breathy sigh, and he relaxed a little. She’d be fine. They just needed to shut everything and everyone else out for a while and remember how much they loved being together. The baby would come in time, one way or another. He’d see to that. In fact, if—

Nope. He wasn’t going to get either of their hopes up on “ifs.” Instead, he’d focus on the definites. And he definitely loved the shit out of his woman. Now, if he could just get some eggs and coffee into her, there were some good times waiting for them at home. Soft bed, hard sex. It was about to go down at Casa de Thomas. And then afterward, when they were lying in bed, he would try to talk to her again about how she’d been feeling instead of trying to keep it all bottled up, and they could work through it together. They had to, because she was starting to scare him.

By the time they pulled into the driveway twenty minutes later, her snoring had become constant, and he’d almost scrapped the idea of hot sex altogether. Until he picked her up in his arms, and she buried her nose in his neck and pressed her soft breasts against his chest. Time for breakfast.

She murmured softly as he carried her up the cobblestone walkway to the front door.

“Lace,” he whispered, and pressed a soft kiss on the forehead. “Babe, it’s time to wake up.”

She stirred and peered at him through bleary eyes. “I didn’t know you worked here,” she mumbled, then promptly closed her eyes again. He bit back a chuckle and tried again.

“Come on, I’ve got to put you down so I can unlock the door.”

This time, she opened her eyes and seemed to focus, her amber gaze locking with his. “Hey there, handsome. When did you get here?”

“I live here. And so do you. We’re home, squirt. Now come on, stand up for me, all right?”

He swung her so that her feet touched the ground and waited while she got her balance.

“I’m A-okay, Captain.” She lifted a hand and popped off a snappy salute, then veered to the side, about to take a header into the potted plants on the porch.

He grabbed and steadied her. “Easy there. Let’s take it one step at a time. You hold onto my back while I open the door. Deal?”

She nodded and wet her lips, then lunged forward to plaster herself against him like a baby possum.

He pulled the keys from his pocket and found the right one, trying to ignore the crush of her full breasts against his back. She was in no condition for anything he had planned, so he might as well get it out of his—

“Are you going to give it to me tonight?”

He froze, hand on the doorknob. “Give what to you?”

“You knoooow,” she said. “It. The hot salami. The long dog. The hot-beef injection. The wizard’s staff. The one-eyed Willy.”

She seriously needed to stop hanging out with his sister. “Ah, well, that depends on a few things.”

She hoisted herself up by his shoulders, wrapping her legs around him, then started climbing him like a tree. A second later, she made her way around to his side, clutching his middle with her thighs. “What things?” She craned her neck around so she could see his face and blinked up at him owlishly.

“Things like whether or not you can walk on your own two feet. Or, say, if you know your name.” To his amusement, she looked totally offended and released him, dangling her legs before she let go completely.

“Test me, Your Officership.” She set her chin to a mulish angle and closed one eye, focusing on his face.

“Test you at what?” he asked, too curious to see her next move to stop her.

“Walking a straight line.” She held both arms out to the side and made to touch her nose, but promptly poked herself in the open eye. “Ah, fff-udge. That hurt.”

He reached for her to stop the madness, but she backed away.

“It’s cool. I’m fine. I can still do the walking thing.” She straightened her shoulders and blinked back the tears in her just-poked eye while muttering, “Stop showing off, Lacey. Stick to the basics.”

She took a deep breath and started toe-heeling it across their front porch. He stayed close behind, ready to catch her if she fell. She made it a good ten feet, and although the line was more serpentine dodging-a-bullet than a straight path, he slow-clapped for her when she stopped and bowed.

“How about that? Bet you didn’t see that coming.” She looked very pleased with herself, so he bent low and kissed her senseless. When he finally came up for air, her hands were fisted in his hair and she was breathing hard.

“That’s nice. Let’s do that again,” she whispered.

He chuckled even as his blood heated, and he led her into the house.

“Why don’t you sit down and tell me about your night while I make you some eggs?” He tossed the keys into the wooden bowl on the side table then crossed the room to the fridge.

She pulled out one of the walnut kitchen chairs and settled in with a sigh. “Sounds good. As long as you promise we can do the tube steak boogie after.”

He chuckled and nodded. “Deal.” He dug through the stainless steel refrigerator,pulled out some butter, eggs, and cheese and then deposited his haul onto the marbled granite island.

“So The Meat Market, huh? Is that going to be your new hangout?” he asked with a grin as he cracked the eggs into a ceramic bowl and started to whisk them together.

“Well, apparently it was on my bucket list, but I’m going to have to say no. I can’t speak for your sister and Courtney, though. They seemed like they were really enjoying themselves.”

He could only imagine. Good thing Shane was used to Cat’s insanity, or else she might have found herself looking at some serious groveling. When they’d walked in, his sister was in the midst of a drinking contest with a guy named K. Long. He only had to stand for them to figure out the origin of the name. Galen wasn’t a hater and had never had any complaints, but damn, the guy looked like he was packing a pony in his pants.

He slid four slices of bread into the toaster, and then popped a pod of Columbian roast into the one-cup coffee maker.

“So where did you guys go before that? I hope they at least fed you…”

Lacey’s face scrunched in thought and then she shook her head. “I don’t think they did.” She held up a finger. “Wait. They did. If you count lime Jell-O shots.”

He didn’t, and annoyance pricked him. When he saw his sister, he was going to ream her out for it, whether Shane liked it or not. Cat knew Lacey was a total lightweight, and she should have kept a closer eye on her. Luckily, once he’d gotten there, he’d had the bartender switch her to virgin drinks, so the worst of it should be over soon.

He sprinkled the eggs with salt and pepper, added some shredded cheese, and then folded the cooked eggs in half to make a perfect omelet big enough for two.

He made his way over to the table and gestured for Lacey to hold out her plate. She did, and he cut the omelet in two and slid half onto her plate.

“Oh, that smells so good,” she groaned.

Her enthusiasm gave him hope. It had been almost two weeks since the last time they’d had sex, and he missed it. He missed her. The way she smelled, the way her smooth, trim body felt against his. It wasn’t just the release—although, fuck, that part was good. It was the closeness. Damn, did that make him sound like a sap.

He piled the rest of the eggs on his plate and went to snag the toast. With a quick slather of butter, it was ready to go, and he carried it to the table to add to the feast.

Lacey had already plowed her way through a third of her omelet and seemed to be picking up steam. “Seriously. This is the best food I’ve ever eaten. You should be a chef.”

He snorted. “I can only make three things. Eggs, steak, and grilled cheese. What kind of restaurant would that be?” He forked up some eggs and started eating.

She was right, they were pretty damned good.

“The best one in the world. At least, for after hours. You could cater strictly to drunk people with questionable palettes,” she said before digging into her toast.

They ate in companionable silence, and he urged her to drink her coffee. A few minutes later, their late night breakfast was obliterated, and he sat back in his chair, full and satisfied.

Almost.

“How you feeling?” he asked, hoping the desperation didn’t show on his face. Lacey was the best girlfriend in the world, and their sex life was better than any he’d ever experienced. If she was going through a hard time emotionally, he was hardly justified in being upset or begging—

“Actually,” she said, pushing her chair back from the table with a screech. “I feel a lot better.” She stepped behind him and wrapped her arms around his neck, dipping her head low to catch his earlobe between her teeth.

He dropped the napkin he’d been holding and let out a hiss. Oh, thank god.

He made to stand so he could implement plan “Blow Lacey’s Mind”, but she put her hands on his shoulders and pressed him firmly back into his seat.

“Give me a minute, would you?” she asked softly, her eyes making sexy promises that made his pulse pound.

He would give her just about anything at that point but settled on a nod. His cock had already gotten the memo that things were about to get popping and was pressing insistently against the fly of his jeans. He couldn’t wait to be inside her. Feel her tight, wet heat closing over him, and the slow drag of soft flesh against his. Maybe she wanted time to change into a negligee that she’d bought when they went to New York. His blood pumped hard as he recalled the way the black silk skimmed her curves, ending right where her thighs began, so he could see her—

“Move your chair back.” She ran her hands through his hair and gave it a tug.

“What do you mean?”

She dropped to her knees and stared up at him, her eyes wide and hot. “I mean like slide your chair back so I can fit right”—she leaned forward and slid her hand around to his cock—“here.” She patted him and her lips stretched into a knowing smile. “Apparently part of you is way ahead of the rest of you.”

He pushed his chair out, hard enough that he nearly knocked the table over, and turned it until he faced her.

“Now what?” he asked through gritted teeth. Was she going to give him a lap dance? Sit on him and grind against him?