Bluegrass State of Mind(77)

Kenna turned and waved good-bye to her friends. As they got into the limo, Kenna turned to him. “This is great, Will.” She slid next to him and ran her hand up his thigh. She couldn’t stop herself. The tux was calling to her and it was saying “Touch me.”

“There’s more.” Will leaned over and brushed his hand across her breasts as he reached for a little refrigerator door. He pulled out a bottle of champagne. “I thought we could sip some champagne as we drive out to the farm. Then we’ll have to wait in a long line to get to the door. Whatever will we do to fill the time?” He popped the cork and poured two glasses.

“To the woman I love,” he said, as he raised his glass and tapped it to hers.

“To the man I love,” she said before taking a sip. “Hmm, so good.” She looked over at Will when she realized he hadn’t taken a sip and that he was staring at her hand. She, too, looked at her hand and realized it had started its own love affair with the tux. She was rubbing his leg up and down, up and down, and her hand was gradually working its way to his growing erection. “Oh! I'm sorry! It’s the tux,” she flushed.

“I hope that’s not all it is,” he said before he grabbed her into a passionate kiss. She should thank her runaway hand if this was the kind of kiss she got when it went wandering.

Will leaned back from the kiss and took his glass. He raised it, “To the tux,” and then downed the rest of the drink.

Raising her glass, she said, “Definitely to your tux,” and followed suit, downing her drink. The second she finished the champagne, Will’s hands were on her.

“I should've toasted this dress,” he said before sliding his hand under the hem and working his way up her thigh. He bent his head and ran a series of kisses over the swells of her breasts before pushing it down and pulling out a taut nipple into his mouth. Kenna’s head fell back as the sensations of Will’s mouth, hand, and the silk sliding over her skin took over.

All too soon, he pulled back and a sound of displeasure escaped from her. “Don’t stop, please,” she moaned.

“I'd love nothing more than to continue, but we’re here. We probably have five minutes before our limo makes it to the front door. Though I'd love nothing more than for you to step out looking like a satisfied woman, I figured you might want to freshen up. Also, I need to run through all my football stats for a minute.”

“Football stats? Why?”

Will looked down at his pants.

Without a word from Will, Kenna came to understand. “Oh. You need a distraction.” She couldn’t seem to take her gaze away from his erection tenting out in his pants.

“Kenna, that doesn’t help,” he said through gritted teeth.

She pulled her gaze away and opened the small purse, looking for her lipstick and a small mirror. She straightened her hair and reapplied her lipstick. The door was opened and Will got out first, offering her his hand.

As she got out of the car, he leaned over and whispered in her ear, “I never did get to find out if you have anything on under that dress.”

She gasped but then laughed when he winked at her.

He escorted her through security and into the ballroom of Mo’s house. The party was huge. She was pretty sure she’d seen the governor, a music mogul, and maybe even the vice president of the United States. There were members of royal families there from all over the world, mostly the younger sets. One of the princes of England was there with some royal from Sweden.

“Come on, I see some people I know.” He placed her hand on his arm, covering it with his other hand and led her through the crowd. She met the owner of the NFL team Will had played for, along with some other horse people. One was actually an ambassador to one of the small countries in Eastern Europe.

They had made it halfway across the ballroom when a new dance started. Will pulled her onto the dance floor and swept her easily into the dance. They talked and laughed as they moved around the dance floor.

“Look, Will. There’s Mo with Bachelorette Number Two. Or is that a new one?” she asked, using her chin to indicate where Mo was dancing with a beautiful woman in formal dress.

“Bachelorette Number Two?” Will’s brows drew together.

“That’s what I call them, the women his father keeps sending to his doorstep, hoping Mo will marry. He can’t escape this one since his father is here. Normally, he just sends them back home. This one just happens to be the second one I've met. I'm pretty sure she’s more like Bachelorette Number Fourteen or so,” she laughed as Mo managed to catch her eye. “It looks like he needs us to rescue him. Come on, handsome, lead the way over to him.”