Page 51 of Devious Vows

She shuffles around in her seat, adjusting her dress while she grumbles to herself while looking out the window, “Just what every woman wants to hear on her wedding night.”

Ignoring her, I unbutton the top of my dress shirt, leaning back in the seat. I just want to go home and sleep this nightmare of a day away. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I message Andrea.

Make sure my girls get home.

He responds with a picture that I click to enlarge. It’s of Bev and Delaney in the back seat of his SUV, one on either side of a grinning Donatello. Beverly is leaning around him, reaching toward Laney, both of them smiling with laughter. My thumb subconsciously rubs over Bev, trying to feel her flushed skin through the photo. That always happens when she drinks too much wine, that and she gets giggly. It’s one of my favorite versions of her. My heart pangs in my chest, eyes locked on the picture for so long I’m not even sure how long I look at it. Saving it to my phone, I swipe it off the screen to respond.

Thank you.

I stare at the small version of the image a moment longer, Viva’s hand grabbing onto my wrist. “What are you looking at?”

She’s trying to see my screen so I pull my hand away, clicking the phone shut and tucking it into my pocket. “We’re not that kind of couple.”

The ride is quiet the rest of the way to my house and I’m out the door seconds after we stop, walking around the back of the car to jog up the steps. Going through the door, I leave it open, knowing Viva is following me, and go straight to my room. Viva has been here for the last week, I’m sure she can walk herself inside.

Stripping in my adjoined bathroom, I turn the shower on and grab a pair of sweats to toss onto the counter while it heats up. I step under the spray, running my hand over my face like it’ll somehow wash away the events of the night. My forearms lean against the cool tile wall once I’ve lathered up, watching the suds swirl down the drain. Closing my eyes, I think of the picture Andrea sent. Fuck, what I wouldn’t give to have been the one to be on the receiving end of Bev’s smile. It’s been so fucking long since I’ve seen it, been the reason for it.

Fuck, I miss her.

I miss the throaty way she laughs, the husky way she speaks.

I miss how she bites her lip when she’s trying not to smile and the way her nose scrunches up.

I miss being able to touch her, to pull her to my face and just breathe her in.

I miss a hundred million things and more, everything about her was made with perfection, from the way her freckles come out in the sun to the sounds she makes when I make love to her.

Fuck, the sounds.

They haunt me, keep me awake imagining them. Just thinking of them now is making me hard as a fucking rock. My head grinds against the wall as I shake it, a hand moving off the tile to grip my erection in my fist. I pump my hand once. Twice. Images of Bev dancing in my vision. I increase my speed, wrist rolling up and down my length with sure strokes. Tonight in her dress, dancing alone on the edge of the floor, arms raised above her head as she closed her eyes, her perfectly shaped tits swaying with her. My hand squeezes tighter. I remember the arch of her neck as she looked back at Andrea, imagining my lips trailing down the length of it, that my tongue was tasting the sweat on her skin.

My palm flattens on the shower wall as I push my head from the tile, gripping and pumping along my dick as thoughts ofcuore miofill my mind. I imagine my hand sliding along her thigh, fingers pinching into the soft flesh of her inner leg as I dip under the split of her dress. Imagine the slight part of her lips as I run my fingers over her pussy, the low moan that escapes when I pump them inside of her, the hot, wet heat tightening around my fingers. My jaw clenches, hips working with my hand on my dick as I get myself off.

I imagine her hands running along my skin, the light bite of her nails digging into my shoulders as she rocks below me, thighs spread wide as I fuck her with my fingers. My fingers push into the tile as I lean into my hand, the image of Beverly falling apart for me, the thought of her sounds echoing in my head as cum sprays all over my hand.

The water has run cold but I hardly notice. My skin is hot as I stand straight, grabbing the soap once more. After washing off again, I flip the shower off, stepping out of it, and grab a towel. Beverly isn’t even with me and she’s still the only one that can get me off. I pull on my sweats and open the door, using my towel to dry my hair as I walk into the room. Tossing it into the laundry bin, my eyes land on Viva.

She’s wearing some kind of crotchless white lingerie, sitting on my bed spread-eagle while playing with her hair. “I’ve been waiting forever for you.” I’m sure she would be most guys’ wet dream, but she sure as fuck isn’t mine.

I hum, eyes leaving her as I walk to my side table and grab the box I had for this reason. I toss it to Viva, who catches it at the last minute, thighs closing as she holds it against her legs and hands.

“What is this? A dildo?” Her eyes lift to mine, a frown marring her features.

“Whatever you thought was going to happen tonight, isn’t. That should satisfy your needs.” I walk to my bedroom door, holding it open while shifting my head in a very clear ‘get out’ motion.

“You can’t be serious. It’s our wedding night!” She starts to scoot off the bed, feet landing on the floor as she glares at me.

“Dead serious.”

“But we need proof of the union! My daddy will be here in the morning along with yours to get it.” She stops to stand in front of me, a smug look on her face.

Fuck.

I let out a loud breath, working my jaw before I answer her. “And they’ll get it.” Her eyes light up. “But I’m not sleeping with you. And if you say even a single word about it tomorrow, it’ll be your last.”

She gapes and I shift my head once more, giving her a gentle push on her shoulder when she tries to stop in the doorway. She turns to look at me and I shut the door on her.

I swipe my phone off the bathroom counter before flipping off all the lights and dropping onto my bed to lay on my back. Pulling up Andrea’s number, I send him a quick message.

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