Page 28 of Insta Bride

“Trust me?” He stood, helping me to my feet. I could feel the eyes of the room on us. Only part of me wondered if I was about to play the role of stupid girl in his charade.

He rustled through the side table, pulling out a spare, white tablecloth and pushed aside pot plants and furniture until there was a space large enough to spread it out on the floor. He then sprinkled rose petals from the ornamental jars across the sheet. What the?

“Kye? They’ll be serving entrees soon.”

“Trust me?”

I couldn’t answer. I didn’t know him well enough to trust him blindly—but he also hadn’t given me a reason not to.

“Elena, I want you to lie down.”

Without answering, I did as he’d asked. All the while hoping this wouldn’t be edited to make me look like some submissive girlfriend who did whatever she was told. But we were all intrigued. Kye confiscated a cushion from the nearby sitting area to place under my head.

“Ready?”

I nodded.

“On the hour, and every hour, if I haven’t looked with intent at another woman, I’d like to lay you down on this sheet of roses.”

“Are you about to burst into song?” My mother would be impressed if Kye could sing like Jon Bon Jovi.

“No, but I’ll give you something you’ll never forget.”

“We are in public.”

“Right now, we are, but I want to give you a promise for later, and something the other guys aren’t gonna be able to match.”

I lay down, and Kye smoothed down the white skirt of my dress and I tried not to giggle nervously.

Then, Kye sat down beside me, leaned over and brushed strands of hair from my face. “You are so fucking beautiful.”

As I heard the servers arrive with the entrees, I watched Kye swivel until his feet were in front of mine, his hands planted either side of my shoulders. He held himself above me for long seconds, before gently and slowly lowering until his body hovered just above mine.

Instinctively, I moistened my lips, holding my breath.

This was insane. He wasn’t—

He did.

Kye kissed me. Deeply, passionately, and then pulled up into another push-up.

Lowered again, kissed me again, and pulled up.

By the fifth time, the girls were cheering him on, and we’d even found a rhythm. Kiss, two, three, four, up, two, three, four.

I began to breathe, and after the twentieth push-up, my arms automatically wrapped around his neck. I didn’t let go. Holding him in place to drink every ounce from the kiss. This sort of thing didn’t happen to me. I’d been the girl cheated on and lied to. I’d been the ex-girlfriend who’d looked like a fool for not knowing sooner.

I’d never been the object of a man’s obvious desire. Not like this.

“Babe?” Kye said, his arms started to tremble again, the way they’d done at the pool.

“Yes, Kye?” I answered sweetly.

“I’m packing something that is going to make this an uncomfortable dismount.”

“Then,” I started, closing my eyes as if no one would be able to see or judge, “How about you lower all the way down before you roll off.”

“Maybe, he’s afraid once you know what he’s packing, you’ll send him packing,” Dawson joked. He was the only guy not to be taking this personally. Kye had upped the ante for all men, and for me.

---