Page 73 of The First Best Man

My eyes go unfocused as I think about Tucker, the time we’ve spent together, and his little bursts of kindness and patience with me. He’s not the “J.T.” Pennydescribed when she warned me to keep my distance from him.

J.T. is a player. A love ‘em and leave ‘em, one-night stand kind of guy who’ll never commit and leaves a trail of broken hearts and dashed dreams in his wake.

But Tucker? The Tucker I know is sweet and funny. He’s goofy sometimes, serious others. He’s a saver of weddings and a bringer of otherworldly orgasms. He’s strong, dependable, and has the kindest of souls.

He’s not some heartless playboy out to seek his own pleasure and nothing more.

The note slips from my fingers, drifting back to the countertop as my dreamy smile drops into a frown. What if I’m only seeing what Iwantto see?

Tucker could be playing games with me, I suppose. It’s not like I have any experience to compare it to. What if he’s only stuck with me this week to circumvent the drama that would ensue if he jumped from my bed into another woman’s? It’s a small town. People talk. He’s found that out, first-hand. And he wouldn’t want to upset Penny and Logan. Not this week.

Or worse, what if he did it because he knows I was a virgin before him?Oh, God.What if it’s all been out of some sense of obligation? Or worst of all, pity?

“No,” I say firmly, then take a long gulp of my cooling coffee.

I didn’t imagine all the fun we’ve had together this week. He didn’t just use me, then stick with me out of obligation or pity. Plus, I gave him an out last night, a perfectly acceptable escape hatch, and he didn’t take it. Hewantedto come here. To be with me. I need to holdfirm to that resolve when the doubts try to sneak back in.

My phone chimes from another room, and I set my coffee down to go in search of it. My bag is on the coffee table––Tucker no doubt picked it up off the floor for me this morning––and a quick search yields results as my fingers grip the cool plastic of my phone case. Pulling the device out, I see a message from Penny asking me to meet her at the bridal shop in forty-five minutes.

The new dress Tucker bought arrived last night. The two seamstresses worked on it until the wee hours of the morning, and she needs to go in for a final fitting this morning to make sure everything is perfect.

Tapping out a message to tell her I’ll be there as I walk back to my bedroom, I toss the phone onto the bed and head into the bathroom for a shower. Turning on the water so it will heat up, I turn back to the mirror as I untie the belt of my robe. Shrugging the garment off, I look at my reflection.

My eyes widen as they zone in on a light, reddish bruise on my chest. Leaning forward, I run a fingertip over the spot in awe. It’s a hickey.

My first.

Is it wrong that I hope my bridesmaid’s dress won’t cover the spot?

I shake my head. Of course, I don’t want it to show. How many questions wouldthatbring? And the focus today should be solely on Penny.

Opening the shower door and reaching inside, I adjust the water to a comfortable temperature, then pull the door closed behind me. Turning my back to the spray, I tilt my head back and let the hot stream soakthrough my hair. Once it’s drenched, I step forward to grab the shampoo bottle from the shelf in the corner, but I drop it as a scream rips up my throat when the shower door flies open.

“Hey, it’s me. Sorry if I scared you.”

I slap a palm to my chest to contain my pounding heart as my gaze travels down his muscled, sweaty,nakedbody. Some baser instinct seizes control of my body in that moment, because my hand snakes out to grab his arm and drag him into the shower stall with me. He comes willingly, closing the door behind him and pushing me up against the glass wall opposite the shower head in one smooth motion.

Then his mouth is on mine, and the whole world fades away, leaving nothing but this steamy, four-by-six space and our naked, clinging bodies. Tucker seems to grow a few extra hands, his fingers trailing over every inch of my skin as he blazes a path with his mouth down my throat to my chest. I feel him place a slow, reverent kiss in the general area of the hickey, then he’s moving again, sucking a nipple between his lips while his hand slides up my inner thigh to my center.

Then he’s upright and kissing my mouth again, driving his tongue inside to taste me while his magical fingers work my clit. I fumble blindly toward the small shelf that holds my bath products, somehow manage to find the body wash, and pump a dollop into my palm. Reaching down, I smooth it over his erection, forming a slick, sudsy lubricant.

Tucker groans into my mouth as I pump his cock, and I mimic the noise as he slides his hand deeper between my legs. Sliding two fingers inside me tocaress my inner walls, he grinds the heel of his palm against my clit.

I break off our kiss, tilting my head back to gulp for oxygen as electricity sparks in every one of my nerve endings. My legs tremble as pleasure streaks through me, and I pump his cock faster, running my hand from base to tip with each pass.

Tucker is sucking at the delicate skin beneath my ear, then he stiffens and grunts, his cock swelling in my hand before his warm release coats my stomach. Without taking even a moment to recover, he falls to his knees and lifts my leg over his shoulder with his free hand. The fingers of his other hand are still buried deep inside me, pumping steadily as his mouth finds my clit.

I try to hold it off, eager to keep the pleasure going, but my own release explodes through me, anyway. My foot slips when my knee buckles, but Tucker’s free hand steadies me before I fall, his fingers and his tongue continuing to work until he draws a second orgasm out of me.

“Oh, God,” I shout when it rockets through me, the words echoing around us over the sound of the rushing water.

Only then does Tucker relent, pulling his fingers free and pecking small kisses across the curve of my abdomen as he gently guides my leg off his shoulder. When I’m solidly on two feet again, he stands and looks down at me with a satisfied smile.

“Good morning,” he says in a low, growly tone.

“Good morning,” I parrot back, my lips curving into a wide smile.

“I’m sorry I scared you earlier,” he says, and I shake my head.

---