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“You really want to spend your last night as a single man with me?” Layla teases, biting down on her bottom lip as I wrap a lock of her dark hair around my finger.
“I want to spendeverynight with you,” I tell her, meaning every word. “You ready to become my wife, Sweetpea?”
“You know I am.” Her cheeks flush with colour as her electric blue eyes burn through me. “I would have eloped the day after you proposed, if you’d let me.”
“I didn’t want you to regret not having a proper wedding,” I remind her.
I proposed to Layla six months after she moved in with me. Of course she said yes, and we planned the wedding to fall over the major holidays to fit in with her studies.
Layla insisted she wanted to skip the wedding and jump straight into the marriage, but I talked her out of it. I was sure her mother would eventually come around and she would regret not having her there to celebrate with us. Turns out, I was wrong.
Layla and her mother haven’t spoken since the night Melanie found out about us. Melanie didn’t show up to our engagement party, so it was no surprise when she didn’t RSVP to the wedding, either. Layla pretended it didn’t bother her, but I know it did. I just wish there was something I could do about it.
Layla smiles at me, but it doesn’t quite meet her eyes.
“You sure you’re okay?” I ask her gently.
She nods and forces a smile. “It’s stupid. I don’t even know why her not being at our wedding is such a big deal for me. It’s not like she was much of a mother, even when she was in my life. I guess I just wanted someone from my family to represent me, you know?”
“If it makes you feel better, I could walk you down the aisle as your stepdad?” I can’t resist teasing.
“And give me away to yourself? Creepy.” She makes a face as she whacks me playfully on the arm. “Really, I’m fine. The most important thing is I’ll be marrying you.” She gives me another kiss then places her hands firmly against my chest and backs me toward the door. “Now, it’s time for you to go. Zoe will be here soon. And it’s bad luck for you to see me the night before the wedding.”
I smirk. “I’m sure I can change your mind if you give me a chance...”
Backing up against the door, I tug her closer to me and kiss her roughly on the lips. She gives into me, her lips pressing against mine as she fights back a smile. Her happiness turns to surprise when I spin around so she’s the one against the door. I push her head to one side, baring her neck and lick my way along her collarbone, while simultaneously lifting her top up to reveal her bare breasts. She groans as I cup them, squeezing them against my palms.
“You know how wild you make me when you don’t wear a bra,” I mutter, flicking my tongue around her nipples until they both jut out. Forcing her legs apart, I reach under her skirt and push aside her panties like they have no business being there. “Tell me again how it’s time for me to go?”
She moans in response as I slide my finger along the folds of her pussy. She’s wet, her body preparing for the pleasure it knows I’m about to give her. Kneeling down, I bunch her skirt around her waist, then hitch her leg up over my shoulder.
“God,” she hisses, nearly losing her balance when I place my mouth over her pussy. Her fingers grip my hair as I fuck her hard with my tongue. “Yes, yes, yes!” she cries as I draw circles around her clit, sucking and rubbing as she wriggles in my grasp.
“You taste so good, Sweetpea. Daddy wants to fuck you so bad right now,” I growl, nibbling on her soft flesh, the sight of her such a hot mess above me making me hard as fuck. All I want to do is bend her over and stuff my cock into her, but before I get the chance, someone pounds hard on the door. We both jump about ten feet in the air.
“Bitch, let me in!”
Shit. Talking about bad timing.
Eyes wide, Layla clamps her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. We straighten ourselves up as Zoe continues to pound on the door, demanding to be let in. When we’re both presentable, Layla yanks it open. Zoe eyes us both suspiciously.
“I’m not even going to ask what I just interrupted.” She points at me. “You. Out.”
“Fine, I’m going,” I grumble, rolling my eyes. I turn to Layla, giving her one last kiss, letting her taste herself on my tongue.
“Finish that tomorrow?” Layla asks, her blue eyes sparkling.
I narrow my own eyes and smirk. “You can count on it, Sweetpea.”
* * *
With Laylastill on my mind—and my breath—I get into my car. I’m supposed to meet Nick and some of the other guys for drinks, but my head isn’t in it. My bachelor party last weekend was more than enough, with Nick insisting on going all out, complete with strippers and an over-the-top high-end pub crawl. I went along with it to appease him, but the last thing I want is for tonight to get out of hand, like things usually do when my best friend is involved.
Honestly, I don’t buy into the whole last night of freedom bullshit anyway. I’m getting married because I love Layla. My priorities have changed. And right now, Layla’s happiness is the thing that’s most important to me. I will do whatever I need to do to make sure tomorrow is the best day of her life. Even if that means trying to convince my ex-wife to accept that her daughter is marrying me and come to our damn wedding.
* * *
Poundingon Melanie’s front door, I shift impatiently, waiting for her to answer. She flings open the door, her eyes narrowing when she sees me standing there. She looks annoyed to see me, but not all that surprised.
