Sinful Ever After (Sinful Serenade Book 5) (9 page)

"Wedding night sex?" she offers.

Yeah, ripping a gown off her chest sounds fucking amazing. I lick my lips as I nod.

"We should wait until after the wedding." She pulls back enough to look me in the eyes. "I don't like it either, but we should. It will be better."

––––––––

M
egara

After dinner, Willow and I swing by my hotel room for supplies, then we go straight to her room. We ban the boys for the rest of the night. They can't interrupt our boudoir photo session. Though they do try. Our phones buzz with
Are you ready?
messages from our perspective lovers all evening.

Under normal circumstances, Willow is a little shy. But when she steps behind the camera, she's authoritative and in control. I feel silly posing on a hotel bed—she assures me she and Tom have yet to fuck in it—in my new lingerie, but her encouragement helps me loosen up and get into it.

It's well past midnight when we finish. I dress, return to my hotel room, and collapse next to my sleeping fiancée. Even rock gods need their rest.

In the morning, I wake before him, pack a small bag for our wedding night, complete with the Steele brothers' totally embarrassing present of crotchless panties and a matching open-front bra—white lace, of course—and meet Kara for breakfast and caffeine.

She beams when she sees me at the coffee shop. "I'm so excited for you."

But her cheeks are a little green.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

"No, but it's nothing you need to worry about. We'll talk when you get back from the honeymoon."

"You sure?"

"Positive." She hands me a cup of green tea. "No coffee. That much caffeine will send your nerves into overdrive." She checks her watch. "We have an hour until the shop opens. Everything will go fast after that. You ready to be a bride?"

I nod.

I really am.

***

Nerves flutter in my belly, but I force myself to eat my lunch, a perfectly bland vegetable and hummus sandwich. The bread is wonderful at soaking up my anxiety.

My hairstyle takes ages. My makeup takes longer. Then, all of a sudden, there's no more time to wait.

We're due at the ceremony site in half an hour.

This is happening in half an hour.

I'm marrying Miles.

My heart is thudding against my chest. Every inch of my body is light, but the nervous energy is good. It's like the adrenaline before stepping onto a roller coaster.

I'm scared but I'm excited.

Kara helps me into my dress. She cinches the corset back so tightly that I can barely breathe. It's uncomfortable, but it's gorgeous. The snug bodice pushes up my chest and creates the illusion of curves.

The hair stylist attaches one more pin to the tiara.

Now, I really am a princess.

Kara squeezes my hand as she leads me into the limo. My skirt is huge enough I need an entire bench to myself.

The other girls joke about something, but their words fly through my ears.

I'm getting married.

This is really happening.

Is it really medically safe for my heart to be beating this fast? Unlikely. I take deep breaths and play with my engagement ring in an attempt to calm down.

Willow scoots next to me. Gently, she places her hand over my left ring finger. "You're supposed to wear the engagement ring on your right hand during the ceremony. So the wedding ring is closer to your heart."

I nod. She got married two months ago. She's been through this. My eyelids press together as I recall Willow's wedding in Hawaii. She looked so calm, like she was floating down the aisle in her breezy chiffon dress and pink wedges.

How the fuck did she look so calm? I think my heart is going to explode. And I'm overheating. It feels like I'm sweating off my makeup.

I check my reflection. It's okay. I look nervous, yes, but my makeup and hair are still perfect. I still look like a bride.

In fact, I look about as beautiful as I ever have.

The limo slows to a stop. The driver shouts something. It must be meaningful, because the other girls are moving.

I switch my ring to my right hand.

"Good luck," Willow whispers in my ear. She smiles and exits the limo.

The orange light of sunset floods the dark interior as she pushes the door open.

"You look beautiful, Meg. Miles is going to melt." Jess blows me a kiss as she slides out of the limo.

Then it's me and Kara.

She sits on the bench seat opposite mine and looks me dead in the eyes. "If you're not ready, I'll make them wait. Even if it takes all evening."

I take a deep breath. My heart is racing at the speed of light. Mostly, it's excitement. "I'm ready."

She squeals. "Okay. I swear, I won't cry until the
I do
." She squeezes my hand. For a moment, her gaze goes outside the limo. Then it's back on me. "Your dad is here to walk you down the aisle."

"Oh."

"Are you that ready?" Her voice is still steady, reassuring.

I nod. I am that ready. I think.

"Good luck." She slides out of the car.

Then it's my turn.

I take a deep breath and slide out of the limo. Dad is standing on the sidewalk in a sleek black suit and a purple tie. He offers me his arm.

I take it.

Candy, the bubbly coordinator, is here. Her bright blue shift dress draws my eye.

She presses her hand to her earpiece. "Okay, they're ready for you." She turns to us. "Whenever you're ready."

Dad turns to me. "You ready, sweetheart?"

I nod. "I know it's been fast."

He smiles. "I knew I wanted to marry your mother on our third date. Sometimes, you just know."

He takes a step forward. I step with him. My feet are actually moving. It's hard to believe. There's certainly no evidence of it with this monster of a skirt, but I can feel them under my crinoline.

We walk through the reception site, through the open doors adorned with orchids.

Then we're there. We're at the ceremony site. There are a dozen people in the seats—the friends and family who were able to make it last minute. The aisle is covered in purple petals. My gaze follows them all the way to the just as purple altar.

For a split second, I register the presence of my friends—Drew, Tom, Pete, Kara, Willow, Jess—then all of my attention goes to Miles. His blue eyes are sparking. His lips are curled into the widest smile in the history of the world.

I've never seen him this happy. I've certainly never seen him this earnest and breathless.

The wedding march plays.

This is it.

Slowly, I move one foot in front of the other. I'm walking down the aisle. I'm walking to my groom.

Then I'm there. Dad crosses in front of me. He sits next to Mom.

I take my place across from Miles.

There's an officiant at the podium. He's saying something, an introduction about the beauty of marriage and commitment.

I hear none of it.

In this moment, my entire world is the certainty in Miles's eyes.

In this moment, I'm as certain as he is.

He takes my hands and holds tightly.

"The bride and groom have opted to write their own vows." The officiant turns to Miles. "Miles, why don't you go first?"

Miles's eyes go to the officiant, then they're on me. He presses his lips together. He's nervous.

My effortless cool, rock star husband-to-be can get on stage in front of ten thousand people without batting an eye.

But he's nervous for this.

My heart sings.

He moves a few inches closer. "When I met you, I was adamant about not being interested in a relationship."

There are chuckles in the room.

Miles continues. "Back then, I didn't believe love could do anything but destroy you. I only saw the ache that came from losing someone. I couldn't see the elation that came from handing someone your heart, from trusting them not to break it." He takes a nervous breath and squeezes my hand. "I didn't want to fall in love with you, Meg, but I'm glad I did. I trust you with my heart. I trust you with every piece of me. You make me complete, and I'm going to spend my life making sure you feel like a princess. I'm going to spend every day trying to make you as happy as you make me. Whatever happens, whenever you need me, I'm there. I'm yours."

My cheeks flush. My knees knock together. I can barely breathe. It's sweet and romantic and raw. His words are usually more polished and clean. Not this. This is straight from his heart.

"Meg." The officiant nods to me.

I take a deep breath. I tried to memorize these things. I hope I did.

"My heart was broken when I met you. I was sure that nothing would ever repair the damage. I certainly didn't think a tattooed player would put my heart back together."

There's laughter and a few
awws
.

I stare into Miles's piercing blue eyes. "You reminded me how to laugh. You reminded me that I could feel good. That I could feel pleasure."

My blush spreads to my cheeks as everyone in the room laughs at once.

I continue. "You taped my heart back together, Miles. Every time I'm afraid I'm going to fall, you're there to hold me up. I'm not sure what life will bring for either of us, but I promise to stay by your side, holding your hand, for the entire journey. I promise to make sure you feel loved. And, of course, I promise I'll keep you humble."

The officiant looks to the groomsmen. "The rings."

Someone hands them over. I think it's Drew, but it's hard to say with the way Miles is staring at me.

The officiant turns to Miles. "Miles Webb, do you take this woman to be your wife?"

Miles looks at me. One hand goes to the palm of my left hand. The other slides the ring onto my ring finger. "I do."

The officiant hands me Miles's wedding band. "Megara Smart, do you take this man to be your husband?"

I slide the ring onto Miles's left ring finger. "I do."

"Then, by the power invested in me by the glorious state of Nevada, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss," he says.

Miles leans in and presses his lips to mine. His hands go to my hips. His tongue slides into my mouth. I don't care that our friends and family are watching.

I kiss him like the ship is going down.

It
is
our first kiss as a married couple.

I need to make it count.

––––––––

M
egara

The reception is a blur of congratulations, dancing, and cake. It's beautiful and romantic. Hell, it's downright magical.

We don't stumble into our limo until midnight. We have another four days in Vegas before we fly to the Caribbean.

I'm not planning on seeing much more of the city.

Miles sits on the bench seat next to me and takes my hand. I study the way my silver wedding band looks on my hand as it intertwines with his.

Miles turns my palm to look at the back of my hand. "Your engagement ring."

I hold out my right hand. "The wedding ring is supposed to be closer to my heart."

Slowly, he takes the engagement ring and slides it onto my left hand. The softness of the gesture melts my heart.

He drags his fingertips over the back of my hand and over my wrist. He says nothing, just meets my gaze with those gorgeous blue eyes of his.

I lean in to press my lips to his. The kiss is soft. He tastes like chocolate and sugar, like the cake that compromised the majority of my dinner.

Can't say that I'm hungry. Not for food.

I'm kissing my husband.

Damn, I wonder how long it takes for the novelty of that to wear off. It's not happening tonight. I'm sure of that.

I do my best to slide into Miles's lap. The dress makes it difficult. On my third try, I get halfway there. My legs hang off his knees. Our bodies form a forty-five-degree angle.

My hands go to his collar. He looks so nice in his suit and tie. I hate to ruin such fine attire, but I've had enough of him wearing clothes. I need him naked.

I fumble over the knot of the tie. Fuck, this is difficult. I have to break the kiss to focus on it.

Miles takes my hands and places them on his shoulders. "We'll be at the hotel in two minutes."

"Too long." I press my lips into his.

He tugs at my dress with the same need. He's just as ineffective.

I laugh as he mutters a curse.

Between the long-line bra and the steel-boned bodice, I can't feel anything that happens over the dress. I thrust my chest into his hands so he can run his fingers over my bare skin.

His hand settles on my tattoo.

He draws the words on my skin.

Be Brave, Love
.

I am. I really am.

I'm breathless and needy when the limo stops. I push off Miles and collect my dress. He adjusts his tie and repositions his slacks. It does little to hide the erection that's straining against the fabric.

My husband's erection.

It's so romantic.

The trip out of the limo and through the lobby feels like an eternity. Everyone who passes offers their congratulations. I must say three dozen
thank yous
before we finally get to the elevator.

Miles pulls a keycard from his slacks. "We have a corner suite."

I nod, only vaguely interested in anything other than the bed in our hotel room.

He pulls me into the elevator and slides our key into the slot.

The carriage takes the floor info from the key. Its doors shut, and it rises.

We're alone.

"The suite has a Jacuzzi." He slides his hands around my waist and pins me to the elevator wall. "Two couches. Two beds. A balcony." He presses his lips to my neck. "Four days is barely enough time to mark every inch of the room."

"Oh." That sounds much more appealing. It's not nearly as interesting as his lips on my skin or the weight of his body sinking into mine. Between the corset sucking the life out of me and the heat pooling between my legs, I'm struggling to form a response. "We're married."

Miles doesn't mock me. If anything, he looks even more excited than I am.