Page 78 of Perfect Score

I don’t have to shy away from the morning wood behind me this time because I had it a few times last night.

I press my ass against him, and he groans.

“If you keep that up, we’ll be a no-show for the wedding,” his gruff morning voice says against the back of my neck where his head rests against the pillow.

I giggle. “Late for the wedding?”

Oh shit!

The wedding!

I toss the blankets off my body.

How could I have forgotten that the whole reason I’m even in this bed in San Diego is because of my sister’s wedding?

I look at the time on the clock perched on my nightstand and shriek when I see that I was supposed to be in her suite two minutes ago.

“Oh my God. Phoebe is going to kill me!” I say, practically jumping off the bed to rush over to my bag and grab a pair of yoga pants and a T-shirt to slip on. My dress hangs in the bridal suite with everyone else’s things, so I just need my camera bag and myself. Thank God.

“Two minutes is all I need,” he says from the bed in that sexy voice he has. “Your body is very responsive to my tongue.”

I glance over at the bed to find Brent lying in it, his erection tenting the comforter. I wouldn’t mind one more eyeful of his impressive cock before I go, but I guess that six-pack that flexed every time he plunged inside me last night will have to do.

A cascade of goosebumps runs down my body. I remember all too well how my body responds to his tongue, and even though that sounds heavenly, I have to go, or I won’t live long enough to ever try that again.

I pull on my yoga pants and T-shirt and then whip into the bathroom, grabbing my toothbrush and toothpaste for later. I don’t want to kiss him with morning breath, but I’m left with no other option except not to kiss him at all, but that’s not a real option because I’m a terrible sister and wish I could blow off my own sister’s wedding to play hooky in bed with Brent.

“I’m sorry I have to go,” I say, running out of the bathroom with my toothbrush in hand.

I rush over to the bed and lean in. Making the move to lean in and kiss him first is braver than I’ve ever been, but I’ve never had to be. Most of my life was spent with one man, and this is the first time in fourteen years that I think I spent them with the wrong hockey player.

Brent leans in over the bed to meet me halfway since the bed is tall, and I can’t reach him without him coming a little closer.

“I’ll see you in a bit?” I ask.

He wraps his hand around the back of my head and presses his mouth against mine.

Morning breath panic sets in, but he doesn’t deepen the kiss, so I pull out of his embrace as soon as the kiss is over.

I want to do so much more, but maybe this was the last night with him?

“Yeah, see you in a bit,” he says, staring into my eyes.

I nod and then turn on my heels and head for my camera bag.

We didn’t discuss anything, and there’s a slight pang of fear that the spell will be broken when I walk out of this hotel room.

Either way, it doesn’t matter. If I’m not in the bridal suite in one minute, Phoebe will be calling the fire department to come in for a search and rescue operation.

I toss the black camera bag strap over my shoulder, shove my toothbrush into the bag as well, and make a mad dash for the hotel room door.

I jog to the elevator, take it four floors down to the hotel lobby where the bridal suites are located, and then run the rest of the way down a private hallway where the bridal party will all be getting ready in different rooms.

I burst through the door, startling Phoebe, Sarah, Christine, and Abigail.

“Where have you been?” my sister demands.

I look down at my phone.

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