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They are soft and feel perfect in my hands, my fingers teasing her nipples until they rise through the thin material of her tee shirt.
"You're so beautiful, Ally," I tell her.
She responds by spreading her palm against my chest and rubbing her way down to the waistband of my boxer briefs. Covering her hand with my own to stop her descent, I press a hard kiss to her lips and say, "Better not. I want to take my time, if that's OK. I have it all planned out in my mind, the perfect setting."
I can feel her smile in the dark. I don't know how, but Ally has a way of communicating her feelings even when I can't see her. "Any place is perfect if it's you. Nobody has ever planned something for me. I'm the planner, as you know. But I'm touched that you've thought of something."
"After Sam and Wren get married, I have a place to show you. If you can wait that long," I say.
"I'm looking forward to it," she says.
The evening works out better than I think it should. I never thought I could fall asleep holding a pretty lady, stripped down to her cotton panties and tee shirt. But even with a slight boner, I manage it.
Years of celibacy has given me a lot of mental fortitude, I guess. One more night or three without feeling her naked body against me is not going to kill me.
Chapter Thirteen
Ally
The way Smitty is looking at me on the morning of Sam and Wren's wedding makes me wonder if he's going to say something important. He certainly looks like he has something monumental to say.
I'm at his trailer to let him know it's time to go pick up the bride
and groom.
"Can I… I don't want to mess up your makeup but can I hold you for a second?"
"Of course you can hold me," I say. I mean, who in her right mind would say no to be held tight in the arms of this wonderful human?
"I like whatever it is you did to your eyes," he says. "Sorry, that came out stupid."
I have to laugh a little bit. "I decided to try a retro thing with my eyeliner. Like Sophia Loren."
"You're like ten times more beautiful than her. Am I wrinkling your dress?"
I don't know and I don't care, I don't want to take my eyes off of his to check on the state of my dress.
"The taffeta will be fine."
"What are we supposed to be doing again?"
I try out my best schoolmarm voice as I list off the things that need to be done in the next hour. "We're supposed to be meeting Sam and Wren up at the road in about five minutes. And I'm supposed to be whisking Wren off to put on her wedding dress."
Smitty's face nuzzles the spot where my neck meets my shoulder and murmurs, "Yes ma'am, wedding stuff. Dang, you smell so good."
Gathering up all my wherewithal to prevent my knees from buckling in response to the feel of his breath and lips along my neck and shoulder, I continue reminding him of the tasks at hand. "And the guests will be here any minute and you and the rest of the guys are supposed to be ushering them all in."
"How much time do we have?" The heat from his mouth against my skin, and the little groan that escapes his throat, send my butterflies through the roof.
"Not much we can do in five minutes. I'm wearing some industrial-strength undergarments, if that's what you mean," I say. When I mention my undergarments, he gives me a heated look. His eyes travel down to my cleavage.
Smitty releases a shuddering breath. "I can't wait to dance with you after the ceremony."
"I can't wait to be bad and sneak away during the reception. I'm sure you can think of somewhere we can go."
His hands squeeze my hips and he tightens his grip. I can feel his erection against my pelvis. "I can think of a few places. But I want our first time together to be special."
"Come on, you know I'm ready to get it on whenever you want," I say.
