Page 58 of Close to My Heart

I chewed my lip. “Neither of us is in a relationship, and we can’t be while we’re married to each other.”

“Let’s see what happens.”

It wasn’t an admission that he was interested in me for anything more, but my body hummed in anticipation of what the night would bring. Would he continue to be a gentleman sleeping on his side of the bed, reluctantly holding me when he woke with me on top of him? Or would he finally give into the chemistry between us?

Did I want that? Everything today felt different. “I can’t get over that you’re my husband now. It feels kind of nice to say, my husband.”

He reached over and touched my leg; I couldn’t feel his heat through the layers of my skirts, but I wanted to. “You’re my wife.”

I bit my lip, wishing he’d say that to me while he removed my dress and touched my bare skin. Was it the wedding or the numerous champagne toasts? Why was I so tuned into Wes tonight?

I held his hand, the connection grounding me. This was Wes. My best friend. I shouldn’t have been thinking of him naked, hovering over me on a bed, his cock easing inside of me, opening me up to something new.

Was he feeling the same desire I was? I didn’t want to be alone in this.

We parked on the street close to the hotel and walked toward it, receiving congratulations as we went. Wes was still in his tux and me in my wedding dress. I felt a little like a celebrity. Everyone was excited and happy for us. It was easy to get caught up in it, to let the anticipation for the rest of the night simmer in my body.

Wes checked us into the hotel.

The man at the counter handed him the plastic keycard. “Everything is ready for you.”

When we were alone in the elevator, I felt the tightness of the muscles in his arm. It was like he was coiled and ready to strike at any second. I inhaled air to settle my racing heart.

Was he worried about sharing a room with me? Did the importance of the day change how we acted tonight? Would everything be different?

When he opened the door, he said, “The rooms here are small.”

“It’s cute,” I said as I walked into the small space. There was a queen bed covered in red petals and a bucket of ice with a champagne bottle nearby.

“Don’t go in yet,” Wes said

“Why?” I asked as he drew me back into the hallway.

“I have to carry my bride over the threshold. It’s tradition.” He easily lifted me into his arms bridal-style and I sighed in contentment.

He kicked the door closed behind us as he set me gingerly on my feet. “I’d put you on the bed, but you probably want to get out of your dress.”

“I might need some help.” There were a million tiny buttons on the back, and I had no idea how to get out of it.

Wes turned me so that my back was to his chest. “Have I told you how beautiful you are?”

I laughed softly. “Only a few times.”

He kissed my shoulder, and my breath hitched. What was he doing? This wasn’t part of our plan. We said we’d keep things open-ended.

This was more than that. It was a slow seduction.

His fingers brushed gently over my arm. “Your skin is so soft.”

“Mmm,” was all I could manage as he kissed my neck, sending tingles down my spine.

“Does that feel good?”

“So good.”

“You smell amazing.” He nibbled on the skin of my neck, then chased it with his tongue. The effect was an electric shock straight to my clit. He hadn’t taken off any of my clothes, and I was already heating up in his arms.

Is this how he was with women? How did I miss the undercurrent of passion, the barely restrained heat? How had I resisted him for so long and only seen him as a friend?

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