Page 10 of The Worst Man

“God, I’ve wanted to do this all night,” he said, sucking my skin into his mouth. “I’ve dreamed about how you’d taste once I finally got my mouth on you.”

“And how do I taste?” I asked, dropping my eyes closed and letting the feeling of his kiss pull me away on a tide of longing.

“You’re sweet and tart, exactly like I knew you’d be,” he said, capturing my lips again.

Hanks hands dropped to my ass and when he squeezed my curves, I mewled and arched into him. “Come here.” He hefted me up into his arms, and instinctually, I wrapped my legs around his waist. We stumbled back against the wall, and he pressed his hard body against my center. I nearly cried out from the feel of him between my thighs. I wanted him so badly.

After a few seconds, a handful of minutes, or maybe even a couple of years, our kiss slowed and he pulled his mouth from mine. “What do you say, Whitcomb? You want to go inside and marry me?”

I stared at him for a beat, and then I felt my head nodding up and down of its own volition. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

He laughed then, his head thrown back in what could only be described as pure joy, and I joined in.

“This is crazy,” I said, as he carried me toward the door and inside the chapel.

He dropped a tiny kiss onto my nose. “That’s because I’m crazy about you.”

I let my eyes rake over his face, taking in his handsome features. I’d always begrudgingly admitted that Hank was a handsome man, but right now, as he stared back at me with so much happiness radiating from him, he was downright spectacular. And he was about to become mine.

We reached the front desk. “This is your last chance, Miranda. Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

I looked between the man I’d just realized I had huge, intense feelings for, and the kind woman behind the big white edifice. “Let’s do this.”

He turned us toward her. “You heard the lady. We’d like to get married.”

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