Forever Mine: Callaghan Brothers, Book 9

“No.”


Kathleen sighed, smoothing the lapels of his tux. “I don’t want to fight with you, Jack, not tonight.” She lifted her gaze to his, her eyes filled with fire and promise. “I want to get started on our honeymoon.”

Just that quickly, Jack forgot all about Tristan Dumas and jobs and everything else except the beautiful woman who had vowed to love him for the rest of their lives. After hours of dancing and drinking and sharing her with everyone else, he was finally going to have her to himself.

“Thank God.”

Her smile was brilliant. “Let’s go say our goodbyes and we can be on our way.”

Jack knew quite well they would never get away that easily; the minute the guests realized they were about to leave, they would find every excuse to keep them there for as long as they could. It was an annoying tradition, one surely devised to drive an eager groom to insanity.

“No,” he countered, shaking his head. Even now he felt watchful eyes on them, waiting for them to make a break for it. “If we want to get out of here anytime soon, we need to be sneaky about it.”

She laughed, but put her hand in his. “What’s the plan?”

He raised her hand to his lips and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. With his other hand he gave a discreet swift and effective tug upon her bustle, forcing one of the satin-covered buttons to pop free.

“Jack Callaghan, you did not just defile my wedding gown.”

He smirked. “It’s just a button, Kathleen, and I’d rather be getting on with defiling you, my bonnie bride.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” she agreed enthusiastically. “Meet you in the parking lot in fifteen?”

“Ten,” he breathed.

“Deal.” Kathleen smiled, grabbed her sagging train and moved away under the guise of locating a sewing repair kit.

Eight minutes later, Jack had Brian’s car running and looked at his watch. Kathleen appeared, making a mad dash from the kitchen entrance, looking flushed and somewhat breathless in nothing but her slip, silk hose and shoes. Jack near swallowed his tongue.

“Kathleen! What the hell, woman?”

“It was the only way to keep them occupied.”

“It was only a button.”

“They had that fixed in two seconds. I had to get a bit more creative. Now stop gawking and let’s go,” she urged. “I’m freezing my arse off, and they’re going to notice I’m missing any second. Where’s your car?”

“Parked out front and bedecked with cans. Not ideal for a stealthy getaway.” Jack quickly opened the door and Kathleen practically dove in head first. Her dress-like slip bunched up and left him spellbound for a moment.

“Jack! For goodness sake! Get in!”

He shook himself free and removed his jacket. “Here,” he said, tossing it to her, then jumping in after her. She gratefully pulled it around her shoulders.

“Brian’s covering for us,” he said, “but it’s best if you stay down until we’re out of the lot.”

He was forced to question the sanity of that suggestion when Kathleen did exactly as he said, resting her head in his lap. She laughed softly, the heat of her breath tossing fuel onto his own personal inferno. “Think they’ll be upset with us?”

“They’ll get over it,” he grunted. It was nearly impossible for him to think with her in that position, especially when consummating their vows had been forefront in his mind. He wound his way through the narrow openings and emerged onto the country road without incident, then breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay, I think we’re safe. You can sit up now.”

“I rather like it here,” she said nuzzling into his upper, upper thigh.

“Kathleen.”

“Don’t Kathleen me, Jack Callaghan. You are mine now, to do with what I please.” To punctuate that claim, she brought one hand to his leg and began slow, deliberate strokes from his knee, along the inseam, to the throbbing juncture of his legs.

“You weren’t so bold before,” he breathed, yanking hard on his straining tether of self-control.

“I knew you’d stop me before,” she confessed. “But you won’t now. You made an oath, Jack, a vow before God to let me have my wicked way with you.”

A chuckle stuck in his dry, tight throat, the constriction a direct result of holding back against the riptide of arousal currently threatening to pull him completely under. “I don’t quite remember it being worded that way.”

“Love, honor, cherish. To have and to hold. Same thing.”

He laughed, but it was strained. “Please, Kathleen. Do not unman me on our wedding night.”

With obvious reluctance, she pulled away from his lap and sat up. His cock throbbed in protest of her absence. Jack was torn between relief and the desire to cup the back of her head and guide her right back where she was.

Her lips set in a classic pout. “I don’t want to wait until we get to the lodge, Jack.”