My Step-Dad's Brother(12)

The woman flashed me a condescending smile and leaned lower, making sure her ample cleavage was on display. “I’m sure little Maggie will be fine on her own. Your brother couldn’t have possibly expected a man like you to spend all your time with his new daughter tonight.”

Harrison’s hand dropped onto my upper thigh, holding me in place when I would have shoved my chair back to confront her myself. He gave me a small shake of his head before turning to face Cynthia. “I was trying to be polite since this is my brother’s wedding reception, and I don’t want to cause a scene. But apparently subtle doesn’t work with you, so it looks like I’m going to have to go with the direct approach instead. I’m more than sure that I have no interest in dancing with you tonight. Or any night for that matter. It wasn’t the first time you asked me, and I sure as shit am not going to change my mind because you’re displaying how much of a bitch you can be when confronted with a much prettier and younger woman than you.”

“I—” she gasped, straightening up and putting one hand to her chest as her cheeks filled with an embarrassed flush.

“I don’t know if you’ve been drinking or if you’re just incredibly stupid, but behavior like this at your boss’s wedding isn’t smart. My advice to you is to head home before you get yourself into the kind of trouble which will have long-lasting consequences.”

The fresh color in her cheeks quickly drained out, leaving her pale and trembling before us. I probably should have felt bad for her, but I didn’t. I was too busy trying to stop myself from grabbing Harrison and giving him a big kiss for how he’d handled her. As she walked away from us—finally—I leaned over to whisper in his ear, “Please tell me we can get out of here and head home now.”

“No”—my heart fell, only to rise back up right again as he continued—“but we can head to my hotel room.”

“Your hotel room, huh?”

“Yeah,” he breathed out. “The first time I take you isn’t going to be in your room, in the home you share with your mother and my brother. It’s going to be in a bed I’ve provided for you, as I make you a woman. My woman.”

“Now, please,” I whimpered.

“Let me go tell Stanley and your mom that we’re leaving, and that we’ll meet them for brunch tomorrow before they head to the airport. That way, if we bump into them in the morning, they won’t wonder what we’re doing at the hotel.”

“But I don’t have a change of clothes with me, except for what I was wearing this morning.”

“No worries, baby doll,” he reassured me. “I grabbed you a few things when I snuck out of your house this morning.”

We gathered up my purse and wrap, and headed over to my mom and Stanley to say our goodbyes.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay tonight?” my mom asked, looking worried. “Maybe we should just stay at the house with you one more night.”

She turned to look at Stanley, and he nodded in agreement. “Whatever you want, Bunny.”

“No, really,” I disagreed. “You’re not going to change your wedding night plans for me. I’m eighteen, and I’m not even going to be alone.”

“Exactly. She’ll be with me from now on, and I promise to take very good care of her,” Harrison added.

Neither my mom or Stanley caught the hidden meaning behind his words, but I did. It sounded like a promise to me, as he told them I was going to be with him from now on. He wasn’t just talking about the time they’d be gone on their honeymoon, but more than that. It almost sounded like he meant forever, and I hoped it wasn’t just my naiveté making me think that, since I fully intended to give him my virginity tonight. I couldn’t picture him taking it and then leaving me behind when he left, but I could easily picture me going with him after graduation. But, would he be willing to wait the three months? It was something that had been nagging at me, but I’d tried hard to ignore it.

We were both quiet as we left the ballroom where the reception was held and got in the elevator. We weren’t alone, and I was nervous someone was going to ask why I was going up to his room with him. I was thinking about what our cover story would be—that he needed to grab his things before taking me home—as we got off and walked to his room. When the door shut behind us, I heaved a deep sigh of relief knowing we were finally alone. Just the two of us. In a hotel room with a huge, king-sized bed.

“Oh, my,” I breathed out, catching sight of the rose petals strewn on the floor and across the comforter. There was soft music playing and the lights were turned down low. Off to the side of the bed, there was a tray of chocolate covered strawberries on the table with a bucket of ice that had an open bottle of champagne sticking out of it. “You did all of this? For me?”