Page 61 of Make Me Want it Too

“Did too.”

“Last night doesn’t count. I was inebriated.” A rogue curl bounces onto her forehead.

“You’re even cuter when you’re feisty.”

Macy glares harder.

I lean in and whisper in her ear, “I can’t wait to see what you look like when you’re coming for me.”

She gasps but I can tell by the way the pulse point in her neck has sped up that what I said excites her. And I’m going to keep it up all night, because being good in bed begins way before you’re in the bedroom.

I wink at her then lead her to the stairs, my hand lightly on the small of her back. Her dress tonight has pretty purple flowers all over it and now I’m thinking about flowers and petals and I’ve been semi-erect this entire conversation and I don’t know how I’m going to make it through the night knowing how it’s going to end.

“How are you going to do it?” Macy asks so quietly I barely hear her. People are walking around downstairs, the conversations getting louder as we descend.

“With my tongue.”

She pauses on the step, her hand tight on the railing. “Oh.”

“Is that not what you were thinking?"

She swallows. “I guess I was thinking more… digitally.”

“Oh, my hands will be involved, too.” We reach the bottom of the stairs and I slide my arm around her waist. “If that’s okay with you,” I add.

She nods.

We walk through the entryway and to the large space where everyone has gathered just as the wedding coordinator with the severe haircut ushers everyone out the French doors and down to the dock.

“Last chance. We can still turn around and skip tonight,” I say as we cross the lawn.

“Nope. I’m good.” She holds her head up high and puts a smile on her face.

Off the dock, we get into a small boat that is taking us to a bigger boat for the sunset cruise. And by big boat, I mean mega-yacht with a deck as big as half a regulation-sized basketball court.

I help Macy onto the yacht by the hand, steadying her around the waist.

Bex is in a sparkly dress with Jake’s arm around her on the deck to greet the guests. Servers hand out champagne as we arrive.

“No shots tonight,” Bex says with a wink before hugging Macy around the waist.

“Oh, I’m not drinking tonight at all,” Macy says.

“Right! Shit. Sorry.” Bex grimaces, hiding her champagne glass behind her back.

I pull Macy in closer. “That’s good. You shouldn’t get drunk tonight.”

She looks down, then up at me through her lashes. “Did I embarrass you last night? I’m sorry."

“Fuck, no.” I know why that’s where her mind went. I clench and unclench my fist, reliving the wholesome daydream I’ve been having lately about punching Spencer in the face and breaking his stupid tiny glasses.

I exhale then bend down to whisper against her temple, “No, I just want you to be completely present when I make you come later. And I definitely don’t want you going and forgetting it after.”

Her cheeks turn a peachy-pink, and I almost apologize—I don’t want to embarrass her. But I love that my words can elicit a physical response from her, and I can’t wait to see what kind of responses and noises I can coax out of her later.

Fuck. And now I’m hard again. I need to get ahold of myself or I’m going to be fighting off an erection all night like I’m a teenager.

“Macy, dear.” Saundra has just arrived onto the boat behind us, her husband a few steps behind. “I didn’t know if we’d see you tonight. I’m glad you were able to join us and you’re looking much better after your little mishap this morning.” Her eyes roam slowly up and down Macy’s dress, as if comparing it to her own sharp pantsuit.

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