His reply is swift. “No, I’ll be taking it off tonight regardless of your marital status.”
My stomach flutters with excitement. As hard as it’s been to stave off the sexual act that has caused so much strife in our lives, the anticipation is something that should seriously be written down in history books. We have done every non-penetrating act of foreplay you can possible do in every position that is humanly possible. He’s frustrated. I cannot wait. There is a tension that crackles in the air when we’re together. Those around us feel it, and despite our best efforts, a lot of time the elephant in the room is the topic of conversation.
Another text pings. “I can’t stop staring at the photo.”
I blush.
“Oh my gosh, would you guys get it over with already? What’s it matter if you do it tonight or next weekend? It’s obvious to anyone in a seven-hundred-mile radius how mad in love you are with each other.” Shirley exclaims as I smile at my phone.
I’ve explained the reasons a dozen times, but no one seems to understand. Sometimes, when having sex feels like the natural next step when we’re messing around and we’re both so fucking mad with lust, I think it doesn’t matter, but our definition is written in ink and we both are holding strong to that belief. We’re together in this. In the decision. “I don’t expect you to understand,” I say.
“Why? Because I’m a whore?” she jokes.
Sighing, I say, “No, because I’ve already tried to explain it to you still continue to ask me. It’s important to us.”
She shakes her head, tells everyone we’re ready and we set off, a tribe of champagne drunk girls as we ride down the elevator. I refused all of the typical bachelorette party fanfare, the mere thought of a penis hat causing me actual stomach cramps. Malena rolled her eyes, Britt got offended, and Shirley changed the subject to dinner. Something we all agreed would be the best experience of our lives.
When the elevator doors ping open in the lobby, he’s there. Standing against a column, wearing a white button up shirt, gray fitted slacks, and dress shoes. Pinching my lips together, I try not to scream like a fan girl seeing her favorite celebrity. He looks delicious in every way. His hair is done, and he’s wearingthat smile, withthat dimple, and if I wasn’t wearing heels I would sprint at him like a cheetah. One hand is in his pocket like he doesn’t give a shit, and the other hangs by his side so he can be ready at the drop of a hat.
When I finally reach him, he grabs at me, “Come here you.” His growl is a rough timbre, that rolls over me ending between my legs. “It’s almost a crime other men get to see you look like this when I want you all for myself.”
I turn my head to whisper, “I am all yours. And you’re all mine. You look like a movie star.”
“An action star I hope?” he replies, leaning his head onto mine. “One with a big cock and the stamina of Rambo?”
I giggle. A noise that surprises even me. I feel his dick harden against my stomach even further. “Of course, Rambo. The hottest most alpha movie star in the history of Hollywood. One more week,” I remind him. He kisses my head, and steps out of my embrace.
“These two. Ugh,” Britt whines. “You can’t do that all night long you know?”
Malena clacks up to our group and Leif eyes her like she’s dinner. And dessert. “I asked if you guys would be into a Killing Kittens Party and everyone said no,” she says, raising her brows like we’re petulant children. “They could have shagged all night there. I bet her virginity would make for the main attraction.”
“Killing Kittens was on the table,” Aidan barks. “How come no one told me?”
“Killing Kittens was never on the table,” Tahoe growls. “This isn’t about that. This is about having a good night out with our friends in a beautiful city.”
Aidan sighs. “It would have been fun.”
“I know, right?” Malena says, folding her arms across her chest. “No one wants to listen to me. I know how to have a good time.”
Leif looks completely pissed that Malena and Aidan are discussing a sex party. His eyes narrow at his friend and Aidan gets the message quickly, excusing himself to grab a quick drink from the lobby bar.
Dinner is fabulous and the alcohol flows copiously around us. I try to stick to champagne until someone buys shots at the second bar and I’m told it is bad luck to turn it down. Tahoe sips water in between his drinks, mindful of every aspect of the dynamic happening tonight. The last time I was with him and he drank too much, everything went to hell. Aidan and a few of the other SEALs left the first bar to head to the strip club instead of sticking to Malena’s schedule.
She wasn’t bothered. She’s boobs deep in Leif’s arms with hooded eyes and a thick agenda for the night.
Shirley is dancing on top of the bar with Britt and I’m sitting in our booth wrapped in Tahoe’s arms. He’s staring at me—an intense look that lets me know exactly what he’s thinking. The music is loud, and it’s reverberating inside my chest as I let everything wash over me. The whirlwind happened so quickly. I thumb the back of my engagement ring to remind myself it’s real. I’m in this big city, for the first time in my life, taking in everything, with the man that I will love for the rest of time. The drinks go to my head and I lean in to kiss him. My intent is just a peck, but because we’re starved for each other, it ends up being more. He pulls away from me when his breathing speeds and his hands wander where they shouldn’t be in public.
The music lulls into a quieter slow song and the bodies on the dance floor begin to sway in time. “Are you having a good time?” he asks, using distraction to halt the truth. We both want to tear off our clothes and go at it in this leather booth. “I know it’s a lot,” he adds, raising his brows at the fanfare surrounding us. “But you have to please everyone. Weddings are never about the bride and groom anyways.” He grins.
“How did you get so smart?” I ask, scooting away from him. I need a breather and I know he does too if the bulge in his pants is any indication. “Maybe for us, it can be about us,” I say. “It’s going to be small, and the reception will just be dinner. Then the rest of the night is ours alone.”
He sighs, fisting his hands by his sides. “I wish that was right now instead of next weekend.”
“Me too.”
Tahoe’s phone lights up on the table in front of us and he leans over to look. I assume it’s just one of the guys trying to lure him to the strip club, but he grimaces, and flips it so the screen is on the table. “I need to be honest with you about something, Caroline. Before you get worried, it’s nothing that I think is huge, but it’s something you should know.”
My mood shifts a bit, but the alcohol helps keep me from spinning into a fear tirade. “Oh, okay. Do you want to go outside to talk? It’s important?” I ask. “I’ve had a lot to drink,” I admit. “But I’m sure I’ll remember it in the morning.”
