Page 72 of Hunger

I bow my head, stifling a smile. It is true that her frame is slim, and with the elegant neck of hers curving to her neat bun, she’s a vision of grace, but it doesn’t hide the fact that the dress clinging to her only accentuates her pert, ample breasts and tiny waist leading to the impeccable curve of her hips.

“I thought bridesmaids were supposed to blend into the background?” Indie whispers in irritation. “One false jiggle and these things will bounce right out of—”

She stops talking as Anne’s face registers contempt before she gesture to Indie’s hand.

“Hand firmly on your partner's arm,” she seethes through gritted teeth before turning her attention to Carolyn.

Indigo’s fingers coil around my bicep, our skin separated by the cotton of my white shirt as she readies herself for our walk down the aisle.

Her fingertips press into the muscle tentatively as if exploring something, and my cock, which I’ve deprived for weeks in preparation for seeing her here, hardens at the touch, forcing me to take a moment to think of my late grandfather’s ass in an attempt to cool myself down.

In truth, I've been hot for this girl since the second I saw her get off that bike and give me the kind of attitude most women would never dare to.

I angle my head downwards. “I’m not sure you’re theblending into the backgroundtype, Indigo.”

Her storm-filled eyes shoot up to meet mine in a moment that sends a silent thunderbolt into me, but she exhales as if to compose herself, her gaze flicking away to Anne standing a few feet away talking to the jittery bride.

“Do you think sour britches removes the stick from up her ass once the wedding’s done,” she whispers, “or does it stay there till the next one?”

Amusement makes my lips curve. “I’d have thought she’d lay off you today since you made it on time.For once. Or are you the reason the bride was late? Did they have to rescue you from another catastrophe you’d got yourself into?”

“You’re a dick,” she spits back, throwing me quite the moody look as her fingers dig into me unconsciously.

I smile. “Indeed.”

“You two. Go!” orders Anne a heartbeat later.

Indigo turns to Carrie, giving her a thumbs up. “You’ve got this, babe!”

“Thanks,” Carrie replies, still visibly shuddering.

As we make it past the partition and down the first part of the aisle, Indie’s fingers wind around my arm more tightly as guests turn to look at us as we amble, our steps very slow as instructed.

“You look breathtaking.”

As soon as the words emerge from my mouth, I regret it. I’m not one for cheap compliments, but I've been thrown off by her beauty today.

I see the contraction of her throat as she swallows before tipping her head up, her obstinate gaze locked onto mine for a brief second before she turns to glare in the direction of the altar.

“I appreciate the compliment,” she whispers, “but if you’re going to give me whiplash by preceding it with a veiled insult about punctuality, you can kindly shove it where the sun doesn’t shine.”

Fair enough, little spitfire.

“What a pleasant sentiment for a wedding, Indie,” I reply.

“It’s still Indigo to you,” she shoots back in hushed tones. “And I have more from where they came from.”

“Good,” I reply as we reach the front. “I look forward to hearing them.”

As the priest smiles at us and Tom throws me a nervous glance, her fingers slip away from my arm and she heads to the left as I take a few steps up to the right, coming to stand at the front of the line of groomsmen waiting a few feet behind Tom.

“You okay?” I whisper.

“It’s normal to want to throw up, right?” he responds.

“So I've heard.” I smile. “Just a word of advice. Try not to aim for the bride if you do.”

I manage to make him snigger under his breath as he turns to look back, waiting for his bride-to-be.

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