I pushed my chair back, lurching away from the table and tripping down the row of seats, past our wedding party, and to the restrooms.
I ran upstairs and burst into the small side room reserved for the wedding party, set near the restrooms, and didn’t even bother turning on the light. The room was small and stuffy; we’d kept the flowers in here earlier and the cloying perfume filled the dark space. I took gulping breaths, looking up at myself in the mirrors lining the entire span of the wall in front of me.
It was as if I could feel every emotion I’d ever experienced with Bennett, and all at once. Hate, lust, fear, regret, need, hunger, love,
love
love
blinding love.
I pulled at my necklace, feeling like I was being strangled with nostalgia, anticipation, and, above it all, need for it to be done, for us to make it official so fate couldn’t suddenly decide to take a different path and somehow leave us enemies instead of lovers.
“Breathe, Chloe,” I whispered.
The door opened and a slice of light cut into the space before it returned to darkness. Bennett’s big, warm hands slid down my back and came to rest on my hips.
“Hey,” he said, kissing the back of my neck, his deep voice spreading like a current across my skin.
I closed my eyes, straightening and turning into his arms. Pressing my face into his neck, I inhaled his aftershave, opened my mouth to suck hungrily on his skin. He felt like home, he tasted like home.
He groaned quietly, fingers digging into my sides, dragging up my back, shaking.
But with this reminder of the restraint he was making us both endure, a wave of anger and heat and frustration overtook me and I shoved at his chest, slamming my fists into him. “You did this to me! You and your stupid rule and your teasing smirk and the giant cock you won’t share! Your long fingers and tongue that does that . . . that circle thing! You!” I gulped down a giant breath of air and continued, “You’re such a perfect, shit-talking, stubborn, exacting, bossy asshole! And fuck you, Bennett! Why are you so damn smart and good at everything? Why do you love me? How did I get so lucky? You’re turning me into a maniac! I thought I was going to start crying out there!”
He laughed silently and I could feel him shake his head next to me. “Unlikely. You cried a couple of years ago. I don’t think you’re due again until—”
I cut him off with a kiss, and I really had intended it to just be a firm, relieved kiss to shut him up—shut myself up—and thank him for being him when I needed it. But it went from playful to fevered as soon as he opened his mouth, let me slide my tongue over his bottom lip, and met me halfway with his.
With a growl, he had me lifted and pressed against the back wall, his hands sliding up the skirt of my dress, fingertips digging into my thighs. “You’re not getting cold feet, are you?”
“No!” I gasped, my head falling back and hitting the wall heavily as he ground his cock between my legs.
“Because I’d drag you by your hair down that aisle.”
I laughed, and it turned into a moan as his lips played their way up my neck and over my chin. “It’s funny that you think you could drag me anywhere,” I told him.
When he returned to me, I tilted my head away, pushing on his shoulders. “On your knees.”
He glared at me. “Excuse me?”
“Knees,” I repeated.
If looks could kill, I would be chopped up into tiny pieces and served with the calamari. But without speaking, Bennett lowered my feet to the floor before kneeling in front of me. He didn’t require further instruction; he simply pulled one of my legs over his shoulders, leaned forward, and opened his mouth against my clit.