Page 16 of Something Borrowed
“Lawson,” her voice breaks as I brush my mouth over hers, teasing her. “I can’t...we can’t...I mean this can’t.”
“It can. We will. This can be anything it wants to be, love.”
Kissing her hard, I crush her to me as petals tangle in her hair and mine. Our bare feet sink into the warm sand, and it is the closest to heaven I have ever felt. Besides the first time I got inside of her. Lark kisses me back, her tongue greedy, her teeth nipping at my mouth. I love how hungry she is, how brazen she is to take what she wants from me. All I want to give her.
Flowing with the others in the raucous wedding party, we wind up in another hall for their reception. Colors fill the room in balloons, flowers, and twinkling lights. It is like an explosion of the love of the bride and groom. Bright, full of color, fresh and forever.
Music draws us to the dance floor, and I spin my woman in my arms for hours. We kiss and touch and laugh as if we’re celebrating our own special day. Mingling with the others we talk about how beautiful it all is. Lark gushes over the food again, eating tiny cakes, tropical fruits, and decadent meats and cheeses. Spread out on a table, it is a beautiful display as vibrant as the wedding itself.
Wandering out once we’ve had our fill of fun, we wind up on the shores. I was against lovemaking in the water or on the sand, but I cannot deny my girl. Lark pulls at my clothes as we get to the shore, and we wade in as I am lifting her against me. I pull her down and drive my hips up, sinking deep inside her. Our moans get lost in the warm breeze, but not her words.
“Don’t stop,” she pleads as I thrust. “Never, please, never.”
“Not ever, love. This, us, we won’t ever stop.”
We spend hours in the water not just making love but having fun. As the sun sets, we talk about dream weddings, our favorite romances, and everything in between. Our dreamsalign, our teasing of what our wedding would be like painting a magical picture. A picture I want to see come to life, one better than any romance I could write.
Lark may have borrowed me for the weekend—but I want to keep her forever.
Chapter Nine
Lark
Watching someone promise another forever is beautiful.
Benji is beaming as he tells his new wife how much he loves her. How lucky he is that he got a chance with her after an accident made her forget everything—except how much she loved him. Their story is one Lawson could write a sweet romance about—not that I would be able to read about my son the butcher’s smut with Tori.
Tori’s dress is beautiful, and she positively glows in it. A form fitting boho style lace gown, it is stunning with her golden hair and bright eyes. Her maid of honor Hanna wears pink as does her other two bridesmaids. I was also told to wear pink as well. My gown is one Tori chose, a silky number with a high slit on one side, thin straps, and a bare back. It is sexier than I expected her to choose but it fits perfectly, and I feel beautiful in it.
Sitting at the pew, I am hyper aware of Lawson. In a casual suit, his dress shirt unbuttoned a few buttons, he is so sexy. Benji is also casual in a fitted suit and a tie to match his bride’s dress. Everyone is beautiful, the flowers perfect, and the ceremony has us all laughing as well as crying.
“Now, please allow me to introduce you to Benji and Tori Stokes.”
Benji and Tori kiss before they turn to the crowd, holding up their hands in triumph. They walk down the aisle, followed by their loved ones, but my son pauses. Reaching out, he takes my hand to have me join them. Kissing the top of my head, he tells me he loves me and is grateful for me.
“I love you too, Benji. I am so proud of you. Both of you,” Ishare a look with his new wife, reaching over to kiss her cheek.
Tori has made my son happier than I have ever seen him. She is a good woman who loves with her whole heart. There is nothing she won’t do for the people she loves. I am so thankful he found her, and I hope Beatrix finds someone as good for herself.
Glancing back, my gaze meets Lawson. He is a good man too. A man who deserves a good woman. Someone who will love him, love his stories, but let him be as free as he needs to be. Part of me very much wants to be that woman. This weekend with him has been the best time of my life.
It would be something else if it could be more than this weekend. I know both of us want it to be. I do not know how we do that. How do I tell my son I borrowed his groomsman as a lover the weekend he got married? Could I tell him that I have felt more alive, more attractive, more adored than ever before?
Would my son accept me being in love with his groomsman?
Now is not the time to think about it. It is time to celebrate my son, my first born, finding his person, his other half. Our small group fills the smaller reception hall we celebrated in last night. Sharing a knowing smirk and a wink with Lawson, we head for the banquet spread as we have before.
“Hello, love,” he murmurs as he slides close beside me, a hand pressing to the small of my back. I take a step back to be discreet. He lets out a little growl and tugs, pulling me closer to his side. “No one is going to notice us tonight. It is not our night. If they do, so be it. Get back here.”
Laughing, I bounce a shoulder. His hand stays on my bare back, fingertips running up and down my spine. Shivers run through me as my nipples pebble. Noting this, he reaches out, tweaking one. I gasp, smacking at his hand playfully. Lawson laughs now, doing it again before he slips on a mask ofindifference.
“Behave, sir,” I tease with a smirk at him. Being close to him, having his touch on my skin, it brings me to life. “Hands on your own goods.”
“Oh, beautiful,” his smirk is wolfish, eyes darkening as he wets his lips as his eyes trail over me. “You aremygoods. Put my stamp of ownership on every.... single...inch of this perfect package, didn’t I?”
Swallowing at the rough, possessive growl his words come out in, all I can do is nod. He has had his hands, his mouth, his entire body all over mine in the past few days. Heat flushes me as I recall all the ways he has touched me, kissed me, taken me, a filthy reel of pleasure flashing before my eyes.
As I get lost in the haze I find myself in with him, I step back. Beatrix stands behind him. Head cocked as her eyes narrow on him suspicion is all over her face. I have no idea how to tell my children about this thing with Lawson. Let alone my daughter who wants her own thing.
