The Wedding Rescue, Book One(10)

I had a sudden wish for lipstick, or at least some gloss. Something that might shield my mouth from others, a cosmetic armor against anyone realizing what I’d just done. Unfortunately, I’d brought a tiny purse that held nothing more than my phone, my ID and a debit card. I hadn’t thought to add any makeup, not even lip gloss. I’d have to brazen it out. It wasn’t like I’d done anything wrong, anyway.

Finished with his belt, Dylan took my elbow once more, leading me back into the crowded casino floor. I managed to keep up without tripping over my heels, my head spinning. It went without saying that I’d never done anything like that before. No one had seen us, so it wasn’t exactly public sex, but it was closer than I’d ever come. The idea that Dylan had wanted me so badly sent tingles down my spine. Me, plump, boring, Leigha Carmichael had somehow managed to interest a man like Dylan Kane. I couldn’t quite take it in. Up ahead, through the crowd, I spotted my family waiting for me. Taking a deep breath, I told myself to get it together. Facing my sisters with my head in the clouds was a bad idea. They could eat me alive when I was on guard. Distracted, they’d pull me apart in seconds.





6





Dylan




She was completely unexpected. When I saw her in the bar, I was drawn by her abundant curves - those ripe tits and her round ass pushing the seams of her conservative dress to its limits. Then we met, and her sweet, shy demeanor was its own hook, as were her pretty face and her clear grey eyes. Instead of jumping on my offer of help, she’d pushed me away. It wasn’t my power that made her melt, it was my body. One kiss and she’d been creaming all over me.

I knew women found me attractive. They’d been after me since I hit my first growth spurt at fourteen. As I’d grown older, and more visibly successful, it got harder to tell what they wanted more, me or what was in my bank account. Not Leigha. Unless she was an exceptional actress, news of my wealth and position had only made her more nervous. Until I got my hands on her, that is. Then she’d gone wild. That kiss was insane.

One touch of my lips and she’d opened for me, her tongue reaching for mine, letting me guide her onto my lap, not even flinching when my hand slid under her skirt. If her sister hadn’t called, I’d have been fucking that sweet, tight pussy a minute after getting my hands on her ass. And her tits were exceptional. I couldn’t even think about those without getting fully hard and I’d only just come in her mouth. Jesus, let’s not forget about that mouth.

I’d dragged her into the hallway, grateful I knew the exact spot where the cameras didn’t overlap, because I couldn’t wait a second longer to get my fingers inside her. My cock would have been better, but there hadn’t been time for that. She’d been soaked, like a hot, wet vice. So tight, she must have had all pencil-dicked boyfriends. She’d gone off like a rocket, her face an arousing combination of surprise and ecstasy.

But the blow job was what got me. Not just that it was good, or that she’d let me in her throat, both surprises in themselves. No, it was her hunger. Her need to get her mouth on me. She didn’t hit her knees because she felt she had to, or thought she should. She’d sucked me like she loved my cock. Like she couldn’t get enough, and could have sucked me all day. She’d swallowed my come without a flinch. I’d had women do that before, either because they loved to suck cock or they knew how to fake it. But never one this clean. This innocent. Leigha was a revelation. One I was finding I wanted more than I’d expected.

We had to get through this dinner with her family. Then I was taking her to my penthouse. I might not let her out all weekend, except for the wedding. If fucking her was anything like having her suck me off, she was going to have a hard time walking by Sunday night.





7





Leigha




I found myself leaning into Dylan as we approached my mother, sisters, and Peter, my future brother in law. Three (bleached) blond heads turned in our direction at Peter’s nudge. Then three jaws dropped. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t get some well-deserved satisfaction out of that. The three of them had always been peas in a pod–outgoing, pretty, popular, and skinny.

A constant stream of boyfriends rang our doorbell when I was in high school, all for Cathie, Christie and my mom. Only a few for me, and those never lasted long. Not once one of my vivacious sisters decided to steal him away. They didn’t actually like my dates; they just thought it was funny to see how quickly they’d dump me for the promise of a popular girl guaranteed to put out.

I was the only female in my house who’d gone to college to get an education. While I’d graduated with a degree in business and accounting, then gone for my CPA, Christie and Cathie had been trying to figure out the best way to get an engagement ring before junior year.