“The whole neighborhood heard. I didn’t think such a loud noise could come out of a small chest.”
Great. “Well, now I’m embarrassed.”
“You shouldn’t be. If you weren’t going to tell him to fuck off, I was.” My heart backflips when that feline smile staggers across his face. “You look beautiful in that dress. I should have told you when you answered the door.”
And a pulse throbs between my legs. “Thanks. You're great in a suit.”
“I know.”
“I still like you better in jeans and without a shirt.”
Did I just say that out loud?
A low growl rumbles from the back of his throat. “Don’t worry, you’ll get all of me pretty soon. There are a few inches of me I’d like you to see.”
“Just a few?”
Attraction swirls in my booze-soaked blood. He’s overwhelming. I know we’re only seconds from kissing, but I can’t remember why I wasn’t supposed to.
“Fuck no.”
I continue in a high voice. “In my experience, men who brag about the size of their cock usually—”
“I’ll drop my pants right now.”
I bat my eyelashes. “Go ahead.”
“Don’t tempt me. My reputation is shaky enough as it is.”
“Maybe you need to do something to deserve it. If the people want a bad boy, give them one.”
He traces my jaw, tipping my head back. “I think you’re the one who wants a bad boy.”
Maybe I do.
I say nothing, and his smirk reappears. His lips hover closer, and then suddenly his mouth and tongue clash with mine. The pleasant warmth of the outdoors becomes an inferno as Gage kisses me. No, mauls me. I stagger away with the force of his kiss, but he yanks me, digging his fingers in the back of my head.
Oh my God.
I should be embarrassed that he’s making out with me in the middle of the dance floor, but I’m not. Instead, I wrap my arms around his waist, wishing I could glide my hands over his skin. His taste swirls in my mouth, the bite of alcohol stinging my tongue. I feel the effects of touch rushing through my veins, intoxicating me with its power. My heart thunders as I lean in, crushing my lips against his. When he pulls away, I catch myself on his jacket to avoid falling over. It doesn’t matter where he goes, those eyes will drag me with him.
There’s clapping and laughter, and heat surges to my face. Gage tugs me off the stage, my hand dwarfed in his as he leads us back to the table. My head swims when he sits, and Gage laughs at me for no particular reason. I sit on his lap, and his eyes widen a bit.
“You’re not drunk enough,” I say, raising a glass to his lips.
He swallows it in one gulp and sets it down, grabbing my face to kiss me again. I taste the bitter tang of alcohol, losing myself in the feeling of being held like this.
I break apart, noticing his flushed cheeks. “We’re behaving like two horny teenagers.”
“Who gives a damn,” he growls. “It’s a wedding. We’re supposed to have fun, aren’t we?”
The rest of the evening passes in a whirlwind of images as the party descends more and more into madness. My hands are on Gage’s waist as we join the conga line, cheered by the whole town. Dancing. More shots. More dancing. At one point, there’s a competition to see who can dance the best to Michael Jackson’s Thriller, which George wins to general applause.
I laugh so hard my throat gets hoarse, and everything narrows into a tunnel. Gage’s face, laughing just as hard as mine. He looks so goddamn perfect in that suit. Everything is beautiful and perfect, and I love everyone here. People I’ve never met before dance with me. I’m dancing with the priest, and then he spins me back into Gage’s direction, who catches me.
“You are so beautiful. Perfect, really.”
“Thanks,” he beams. “You’re kind of hot yourself.”
“Don’t be an ass.”
At that moment, the priest dancing in the crowd gestures toward us. “Wouldn’t it be hilarious if we got married?”
What a brilliant idea. “I love it! Oh my God!”
Yes. We could get married right here, right now. And it would be amazing.
I snatch George out from the crowd. I can’t believe that I once found his ideas ridiculous. “George, Gage had a grape—I mean—great idea! He thinks we should get married!” The air splits with my laughter as soon as I finish the sentence. George’s reply is lost in the wind, but he’s smiling, so he