Page 46 of Uncovering Love: The Wedding

Leaving the reception takes longer than it should. Too many people catch us to offer their congratulations and well wishes as we try to sneak out. Evie didn’t want to do any of the traditional practices. No garter, throwing of a bouquet, or cutting cake when there’s a milkshake food truck! Of course we have to grab two for the road. When we finally make it to my Charger a good hour later, I don’t waste any time. I put the powerful engine to the test and race downtown as quickly as possible. We check into our hotel, but Evie insists on going up first.

“Order a drink and I’ll text you when I’m ready for you.” She slaps one of the two room keys into my palm and nods at the bar.

“Okay, but I don’t really want a drink.” Impatience, along with the insatiable desire to get naked with my wife has taken away any thirst for alcohol. I want to feel and taste every moment of today. And soon.

“Won’t be but a few minutes. Promise.” She pushes onto her toes, leaning up to lick the shell of my ear. “I’m just as hot and bothered as you are, babe.” She winks, walking backwards a few steps with her overnight bag in hand.

“Damn you, Marvin Gaye!” I raise my fists in the air, and Evie’s laughter follows her inside the elevator. I gain a few strange looks in the process, too. That, and the fact I have to adjust myself.

Finding a seat at the bar, I sip water and catch up on the day’s top sports stories. When my cell buzzes with the notification to come up, it doesn’t take more than a few seconds for my feet to hit the floor and I’m heading upstairs to our room.

“Evie?” I call out when I step into our suite. The door slams shut behind me. One small lamp is the only light left on, but the open curtains allow the city lights below to illuminate the empty bed in an iridescent glow. Soft music plays from a portable speaker, a song from her favorite playlist, but as I drop my bag at the closet my bride is nowhere in sight. “Evie?” I knock on the bathroom door.

“Go sit on the bed. I’ll be right out.”

I shrug off my jacket and lay it over the back of the sofa on my way to the bed. I loosen my tie and take off my cuff links. Onlythendo I hear the soft click of the bathroom door. My gaze snaps up and my breath catches in my throat. Incredible.

“Is this okay?” Evie asks, knowing damn well it’s more than that. “We don’t usually do the lingerie thing, what with it coming off so quickly ...” Her fingertips dance along the transparent white lace cups that barely contain her breasts.

“Fuck,” I hiss through my breath.

Goddamn, she’s beautiful. Gorgeous. Sinfully perfect, and I don’t know what I did to deserve this woman as my wife. I make a silent pledge, one among hundreds to date, that I’ll do everything in my power to bring her happiness, joy, and show her how much I love her with every breath I take.

I’ll start with making her come.

“I love you, Evie.”

“I love you, too, Tate.”

“Come here.” The growl leaves my mouth sounding more tormented than I intend. That’s what she does to me. But tonight it’s more than that. Tonight everything is more. I can’t wait to be inside my wife.

She struts across the room until she’s just out of my reach. “You like?” She performs a slow twirl to show off all the white lace, hooks, ties, and bows. It’s an impressive getup.

“You get into that all by yourself?” An honest question because as sexy as she looks in it, I’m not sure I have the patience to get her out of it. I wonder how she’d feel about me ripping the thing off.

“No.” She giggles and my eyes leave the valley of her breasts to glare into her teasing eyes. “Don’t worry, big guy. It was Kate who harnessed me into this medieval torture device.”

“Torture is right.” She takes one step closer so she’s between my widened legs, and only then do I allow my hands the pleasure of running along her pale skin. From the swell of her breasts, down her abdomen to the flesh of her hips, everything about her accelerates my hunger. My fingers hook beneath the elastic strap that appears to connect two pieces together. “Do I need an instruction manual to remove this?”

I’m joking.

Mostly.

She laughs and shakes her head, “The only instructions you have are to enjoy. And get it off.”

“Oh I’ll get it off, after I get you off, Mrs. Reynolds.”

“God, I love the sound of that.” She moans and while I know she’s referring to her name, I can’t help but tease her as my touch travels over every luscious curve of her body.

“Oh, me too. I love the way you sound when you come. Now, turn around.”

She complies, the heat in her eyes full of all the desire I feel. Brushing her hair to one side, I embark on the painful task of releasing the series of clasps that hold her corset-style bra together. It falls to the floor and I pull her so she’s directly between my legs. Planting languid kisses down her back, I cup her breasts and tweak her nipples into hard points.

“Yes, Tate. Please.” She arches her back and presses her ass into my erection, but this isn’t about me yet.

I stand from the bed and turn her in my arms, but we don’t miss a beat. Our lips come together. Tasting. Melding. My fingers make quick work of what’s left of her outfit, and hers tug open the buttons on the front of my shirt until she’s pushing the entire thing off my shoulders. Cradling her neck with my hand, I push her back onto the bed, my lips never leaving hers as I climb over her body.

The thrumming of the music along with her breathy moans as I drag my fingers through her wet center become a heady, erotic soundtrack. My lips work their way south, lavishing each pert nipple before moving across the ink of my name and ending just above her mound. Sliding my fingers in and out of her folds, my cock pushes greedily against the fabric of my pants, and my senses are overwhelmed.

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