His hands moved to the thin straps of my dress and I pulled back, our eyes locked as he slowly lowered my top until it pooled around my waist, leaving my breasts bare to his hungry gaze. My head fell back as his lips made their way down my throat, light butterfly kisses that stirred things deep inside my core. I leaned further back, trusting him to bear my weight as one arm stretched along the length of my spine.
When his mouth closed around my nipple, I bit my lip to stifle a cry. The last thing we needed was to have someone hear us and come investigate. I should've felt guilty about how wonderful he felt against my breast while his bride was downstairs, humiliated, but all I could think about was the delicious pull of his mouth.
I buried my fingers in his hair, holding him against me until the pleasure was almost too much. I tugged on his hair, bringing his face up so I could cover his mouth with mine, sucking his tongue into my mouth until he groaned. My stomach tightened and I knew what I wanted. He'd once said he wanted it too and now I was going to make it happen.
I climbed off his lap and went down on my knees, grateful I hadn't worn hose. The stones were cool and hard against my knees, but I didn't care. I made short work of his pants, opening them just enough for me to get what I wanted. I didn't bother teasing him, I wanted him too much for that. I lowered my head, taking as much of him into my mouth as possible. I moaned around his cock as his flavor exploded across my taste buds. I'd almost forgotten how good it felt to have him in my mouth, and it had only been a week. I couldn't wait to find out what it felt and tasted like to have him come.
Up and down his length I stroked him, reveling in his taste and the moans coming from his throat. I sucked hard, then softened, teasing my tongue around and over him. His hand came to rest on my head and I could feel the tension in his legs as he fought not to thrust hard into my mouth. I shoved a hand into his pants, cupping his balls and he moaned what sounded very much like my name.
His hand tugged at my hair and I knew it was a warning. I didn’t care. I wanted this, wanted him. I sucked harder, hollowing my cheeks, suctioning him into my throat. I wanted all of him and relaxed my throat until I met my goal, my mouth stretched wide enough to hurt.
“Fuck!”
The word was muffled and I was pretty sure he had his free hand in his mouth, but I didn't look up, as the warmth of his orgasm filled my mouth. I took it all, swallowing then swallowing again, gladly accepting his body into mine. I drew back slowly, letting the last of his seed spill across my tongue. When he finally slipped from between my lips, I'd made a solemn promise to do that as often as possible.
He was breathing hard as he looked at me, his eyes so black I couldn't see the difference between his pupil and iris. He reached forward and pulled me to him, crushing his mouth against mine, his tongue plundering my mouth and I knew he could taste himself there. When he broke the kiss, I expected us to be done and told the ache between my legs to wait. Instead, he pulled on my arms until I stood and then pushed up the bottom of my dress, exposing the tiny thong I wore. He pulled it aside and buried his tongue inside me. I swore softly, rocking my hips against his face as he licked me, every pass of his tongue sending me higher and higher until I danced along the edge of pleasure. He flicked his tongue across the top of my clit and I came, clutching his shoulders and pushing myself against his talented mouth. He stayed there as I rode out my orgasm, moving back only when my body stopped convulsing.
“Beautiful,” he whispered, pressing his lips against my hip.
I looked down at him, running my fingers along his cheek and down to his lips. It wasn't until he sat back and started to pull me with him that I realized he was hard again. My pussy tightened as I realized there was more to come.
I settled on his lap, holding myself just above his thick shaft until our arms were wrapped around each other, our faces barely an inch apart, and then I sank down slowly, letting myself enjoy the stretch and burn of him entering me. Skin slid against skin as my body welcomed him and my muscles began to tremble with the strain of taking him all in. When we started to move together, everything else disappeared. There was no wedding, no crying bride. No fatigue or jet-lag. We had all the time in the world and there was no one else who existed. How long we made love there, I didn't know, only that I never wanted it to end. It was perfect, and as we came together, his cock pulsing as it emptied into me, I'd never felt more complete.
I heard a gasp and raised my head. Pale blue eyes accused me and I didn't know if they were Brock's or his sister's, only that we'd been caught...
My head jerked up, almost colliding with the face of the smiling flight attendant who'd woken me.
“We're about to land in Philadelphia, Miss.” She didn't seem at all perturbed by my sudden and almost violent waking. “You need to put your seatbelt on.”
I let out a shaky breath as I buckled myself in. The remnants of my dream clung to me and I couldn't brush them off. It was far from the first sex dream I'd ever had, and not even the first one to star Reed. I'd had those before we'd slept together. But, there was something about it that disturbed me more than I'd imagined possible.
I told myself it was because I'd had it in public and I glanced around, hoping I hadn't moaned – or worse, actually climaxed. My panties were wet and sticky, but I was sincerely hoping it was just arousal. As embarrassing as it was, I knew it wasn't the reason this dream was bothering me.
The logical reasoning was because it had happened at the wedding. My subconscious made me do something to some poor girl that no woman should ever have done to her. I'd made her get left at the altar and then I’d fucked the man she was supposed to marry. Surely it made me a horrible, awful person.
That wasn't why I felt guilty though. I'd had dreams where I'd killed people, dreams where I'd stolen things, and I'd never felt guilty or disturbed. I'd also had dreams where I was flying and one particularly strange one where I'd been an ice cream sundae being chased by a giant banana. Okay, that one had some serious Freudian leanings, but for the most part, I knew that dreams were dreams. I never felt responsible for what happened in them. So what made this one different?
As the captain announced our descent, it hit me.
The knot in my stomach, the guilt that was almost choking me, I was feeling all of it because, despite everything Reed had done, deep down I wanted him to choose me.
Chapter 3
The hotel room Brock had rented for me for the weekend was amazing. It wasn't the most expensive room the Hilton had to offer, but it was still the nicest one I'd ever stayed in. I didn't count passing out in Reed's suite.
The car he'd sent to pick me up had also been nice. The only thing that had bothered me was the driver's face was completely expressionless as he'd opened the door for me, and he hadn't said a word the entire drive to the hotel. I'd never been driven around like this before, so I hadn't known if this was professional or if the driver was just so used to escorting various women around for Brock that he didn't find the need to interact.
I'd told myself it didn't matter if Brock flew hundreds of girls in for various events. This was only a sort-of-date. He was apologizing for his behavior and giving himself a companion for the wedding at the same time. It wasn't like I expected anything of him. He wasn't my boyfriend and neither one of us was saying anything about a commitment of any kind. I had no reason nor right to be jealous.
When I'd arrived at the hotel, I'd been immediately escorted to my room, informed to call if I needed anything, no matter how small, and then left to explore the room that was almost as big as my apartment in Vegas. It was technically just one room and a bathroom, but the main room had a love-seat, table and two chairs, microwave and mini-fridge as well as the usual bedroom furniture. I could essentially live here and not need anymore space.
I put my bag down on the queen-sized bed and started to unpack, then noticed an envelope on the pillow, which my name written across the front. Curious, I opened it and found a card. Not like a greeting card but a plastic rectangle. A gift card. Also in the envelope was a note.
I recognized Brock's handwriting right away.
“Piper, I'm so pleased you agreed to join me. I hope you enjoy your room. I wasn't sure if you had something to wear to the wedding tomorrow, and since I'm busy at the rehearsal tonight, I thought you might like to have some fun. Use the card to get yourself something to eat as well as something to wear for tomorrow. I'll be at the hotel to pick you up at ten. Brock.” At the bottom was scrawled something else. “P.S. I think you'd look hot in purple.”
At least I knew what color dress he wanted me to buy. Purple was one of those colors that would look either really good or really bad on me, depending on the shade. With this card and all of downtown Philadelphia at my feet, I was sure I could find something.
When I went on my little shopping trip, it was all I could do to keep from humming Roy Orbison as I walked. Granted, I wasn't a hooker and I was definitely wearing appropriate, though inexpensive clothes, but the looks some of the saleswomen gave me said they weren't entirely sure why I was checking out pricey dresses in their stores.
After I found the one I wanted – on sale no less – I treated myself to a matching panty and bra set as well as shoes. By the time I returned to my room, I was exhausted, but happy and feeling more confident about tomorrow. The only bit of anxiety I was experiencing at the moment was concerning what would happen when I finally fell asleep. I didn't want a repeat of what had happened on the plane.