Page 52 of The Love Wager

She moans. “Brooks.”

Using the steering wheel behind her for leverage, I lift and meet her thrust for thrust as her incoherent moans roll into one another as I feel my own end racing for me.

“There’s my beautiful girl. Come for me,” I grunt, trying like hell to let her go first.

She screams my name, her head falling back as her climax tugs me over the edge with her.

Sputtering her name and a string of curses, I plant my ass back on the seat of the truck as Indie leans her forehead against mine.

“Shit. Taylor’s going to kill me.”

I laugh. “No, she won’t. Just give her the juicy details.”

“What?”

“I know you girls eat that shit up. Just give her the details, and she’ll overlook your tardiness.”

“She’ll still be mad at you. You started it.”

I shrug. “I’ll take it if it gets you off the hook.”

“Such a romantic. However, will I leave you tomorrow?” She kisses my lips playfully, and I know her words were as such, too, but they hit me dead center and cause an ache to form.

“Let’s get inside and clean up,” I tell her.

“Then you’ll twirl me across the dance floor?” she asks, working her way back into her seat.

“Red, I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Still. Dangerous words.”

“I’m a man unafraid of danger when it comes to you, Indie.” I mean my words playfully, but I can tell they hit her harder than I’d meant them, just as hers had.

Once inside, we find a bathroom and get cleaned up and presentable before heading into where thumping bass and the sounds of a crowd filter around us.

“Ready?” she asks.

I grin. “As I’ll ever be.”

NINETEEN

Indie

Carefree and breathless, Brooks twirls me across the floor, leading me gracefully around the others, enjoying the reception. This week has given me so much more than I expected. I’m relaxed for the first time in a year. I haven’t thought about my business more than a couple of times a day, instead of it being a constant suck on my mental space. I feel refreshed from seeing Taylor and enjoying our girl time. Not to mention the consistent sex glow Brooks keeps me in.

We come to a stop next to the wedding party’s table. It’s empty, many of us drinking and dancing the night away. I catch my breath and lean into Brooks as he hands me my fourth—no fifth glass of proper champagne. My head is even lighter with the alcohol in my veins after the mind-blowing orgasm he gave me in the truck.

“I’ll be back. I need to powder my nose after that,” I say, leaning up to kiss him. It’s become as natural as holding his hand whenever we’re in touching distance.

The night air feels good against my heated skin when I step out of the barn to make for the main house. The DJ’s mix of country and pop blares through the night, boisterous laughterand singing adding to the volume. People mill about, enjoying the outdoor games and seating for a quieter moment with their dates.

There’s a pep in my step, an urgency to get back to Brooks and enjoy every minute we can squeeze out of the night. I stumble down the hall, beelining for the bathroom in the same room we used to get ready for the wedding with all our stuff stored away for safekeeping.

I push through the door and come to an abrupt halt. Taylor and Nick are locked in a heated argument, their voices low but tense, as if they’re trying to keep it contained—even though they’re the only ones in the room. I clear my throat, and in an instant, both of their heads swivel toward me in perfect sync.

“Am I interrupting?” I ask, my voice cutting through the tension in the air.

Taylor steps back with a casual flick of her wrist, a smile plastered across her face that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Not at all,” she says, her tone too light to be genuine. “Nick and I are done here.”

---