Page 44 of The Better Bride
Chapter 16
Mysti May
SATURDAY 12:05 PM
“There’s my blushing bride,” Brendon says as he whips me around and pins me against the door he just locked.
I’m just about to push him away when he captures me in the most intoxicating, deep kiss.
As our lips melt into each other, I breathe him in. All I smell is his heady cologne mixed with musky man scent.
Damn. I’m incredibly turned on, as evidenced by my dripping wet panties.
Breaking our kiss, Brendon says, “Good to know you remember some things, like how well we fit together.”
“You’re an okay kisser, I suppose,” I say, stating what is without a doubt the understatement of the century.
A slow smile emerges across his face. I’m so caught up staring into his eyes, heavy with desire, that I don’t notice the blindfold in his hand at first.
“Indulge me?” Brendon asks, holding up the black blindfold.
Every fiber of my rational side is screaming that it’s a bad idea. I’m here to get answers, not indulge my desire. Even if that desire is stronger than I’ve ever felt before. Still, I can’t help but want to follow Brendon wherever he leads me.
Sensing my willingness, he places the blindfold over my eyes, plunging me into darkness. Suddenly it’s just the sounds of our breaths filling the room, he exhales while I inhale.
Even now we’re in perfect harmony.
I feel his hand caress my cheek, his breath on my neck. The thought of knowing where he’s going to kiss me moments before his lips make contact with my skin has me feeling lightheaded in the best way. As his lips leave my skin, I lunge forward, searching for them.
“Patience, babe,” Brendon whispers. “We have all our life ahead of us.”
Crap, that’s right. We’re married. He’s not the one I’m supposed to be married to, but here we are.
What would be the harm in fucking my husband just once more before pleading with my ex-fiancé to take me back? That’s a sentence I never thought I’d utter.
Brendon pushes me into a wooden chair and I feel him move behind me. He grabs my hands and brings them together behind the chair. I feel the cool steel of handcuffs being wrapped around my wrists and cinched tight.
“Since you have me here,” I say, “you might as well tell me what happened last night.”
Brendon lets out a little laugh and says, “What would be the fun in just telling you what happened?”
Still behind me, he brushes my hair to one side, exposing my neck to the cool air.
“No,” he says. “I’d rather show you.”
“Show me?” It was my turn to laugh. “You blindfolded me. How am I supposed to see anything?”
“Not see,” he says as I feel him come around the chair. His face is inches from mine. “But feel,” he finishes.
“How did we end up at the wedding chapel?” I ask, trying to stay focused as his hand comes up and runs along the edge of my shirt neckline.
With each pass, he lets his finger dip lower and lower, teasing me.
“Again with the questions,” he says. “Why don’t you just relax and enjoy being the center of attention?”
“Isn’t that your specialty? Being the center of attention?”
His lips replace the fingers that were just dancing along my neck, and I feel his hands on the seat edges steadying himself.