Page 229 of One Big Little Secret

For now.

But he’s had his fun, and now it’s time for mine.

I lean against his chest, easing him back, looking him over again.

My Patton, my man, with his coppery hair and stark blue eyes and endless capacity to love me. And I’m still insanely smitten with the blue suit, which looks painted on over his muscles.

But one day of seeing him in that suit feels like plenty, and I’m sure he’ll agree. Time to say a fond goodbye.

“My turn.” He raises a hand to help me and I shake my head.

It’s painstaking, my progress.

Shucking his jacket off, then working off the open shirt underneath, I let my knuckles graze him as I work, silently worshiping every inch of bronze skin coming into view.

“You approve?” His eyes heat when they meet mine.

“You already know I do.” I press my palms on his chest, loving how his muscles tighten under me.

“Then let me help you out of this thing.”

I turn my back to him, blushing as he slowly undoes the buttons at the back of my dress. I’m thankful he hasn’t had too much to drink—they’re finicky at the best of times. But he doesn’t struggle, not for more than a minute or two.

Freedom!

Cool evening air teases my skin as I step out of the wedding dress piled on the floor. Underneath, there’s just the lingerie I bought for this occasion.

A red and black lace bra, showing off more than it conceals, and matching panties with polka dots. No need to complicate it with anything more elaborate when it won’t be staying on for long.

“Fuck,” he rasps, his voice gritty. “You’ve made this ladybug shit next level.”

I smile. “You’re just saying that because I’m almost naked.”

“Like hell. I’d think you were hot as hell even if you were wearing an old granny sweater.”

I twirl around on the spot. “So you’re saying youdon’tlike my panties?”

“Fuck no.” And the greedy way he embraces me proves it.

One hand finds my breast while the other caresses my stomach with a silent promise of where it may go next. Warmth pools between my legs.

As one hand toys with the lace of my bra, his other hand draws lazy circles against my stomach, sweeping lower, lower, before he trails a finger down the front of my panties.

I can’t hold back a moan.

And I feel his deep laugh more than I hear it as he turns his attention to my thighs.

“Someone’s in a hurry,” I tell him, wiggling my ass against the hardness behind me.

“Woman, I don’t have infinite patience,” he growls.

“But you’re going to spoil my fun,” I whine.

“Lying brat. You’ll have plenty.”

There’s no denying it as I grind against him again, grinning as his hips thrust against mine, the movement almost involuntary.

He circles my nipple in retaliation and slips a hand under my panties, one finger brushing my slick center.

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