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“Five minutes.”
His eyebrows rose. “If you can get ready in five minutes, I’ll let you pick what side of the bed you want to sleep on.”
That made her laugh. “Deal. Time me from when I stand up.”
She’d done runway for five years. She’d gotten in and out of clothes in a minute flat. This was a piece of cake. As long as she accurately remembered which suitcase her blue cocktail dress was in, she was gold.
“Confident. I like it.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and swiped.
She was already kicking the remains of her pants and panties off.
“Okay, you ready?”
She stood up, which put her pussy right in front of him. She actually bumped his chin with her thigh. Sullivan groaned.
She grinned down at him. “Whoops. Sorry.”
He sat back on his ass and put his arms over his knees, his phone in my hand. “I wanted it noted for the record that I’m a really fucking good friend because everything inside me wants to just pull you down on my cock right now.”
That sounded really appealing. Starter sex. “We could be quick, just a little something to take the edge off.”
But Sullivan shook his head. “No. I don’t want to be quick. I want to savor you.”
She shivered, deciding she would be wise to let him take the lead on any and all touching. He had a sensual edge she appreciated. “You’re right. We’ll go to the wedding. Start the timer.”
“Go.”
She took off for the suitcase she thought the dress was in, pulling her sweatshirt off over her head as she did. She wasn’t wearing a bra.
“Fuck. Me.”
A glance back showed Sullivan was miming putting a knife in his chest. “I’m dead,” he said.
She grinned and made sure to bend over and extend her arms forward as she dug through the suitcase. She owed him a good view for that orgasm.
“This wasthe dumbest idea I’ve ever had in my entire life,” Sullivan said as he watched Eddie bend over her suitcase, rooting around in it. “While simultaneously being fucking awesome.”
He had the biggest erection possible without passing out my lack of oxygen to the brain. His dick was throbbing painfully but it was the good sort of pain. Like taking an elbow to the chin. It made you feel alive. He felt alive.
He’d laid out his feelings and Eddie had said she loved him. She was naked in front of him and loved him. Now this was what he called a banner Saturday night. Nothing was going to top this one anytime soon. Her body was everything he’d been dreaming about and the way she had shattered beneath his tongue had been the sexiest damn thing he’d ever experienced.
Her long legs made him envision all the ways they could wrap around him. Her ass was tight and tiny perfection. She yanked out her hair tie and let it spill down her back. She tore a brush through it with one hand while still digging in the suitcase with the other.
Then she tossed the brush down, pulled on a thong in black lace, then slipped a blue dress over her head. She sat on the bed and slid her feet into heels she’d fished out of the suitcase while brushing her hair.
When she stood, she smoothed the front of the dress down and went straight to the bathroom. A glance at the timer showed she had only used up two minutes. He heard the toilet flush and she reemerged two minutes later, complexion smoothed out, eyebrows filled in, and false eyelashes on. Her lips were tinted with the faintest red stain and she had earrings in her lobes. How the fuck had she done all of that?
“Ready,” she said, zipping the dress up the side of her body.
“I’m speechless. You still have twenty-four seconds left.”
“I wasn’t even really trying,” she said. “You should see what I can do under real pressure.”
“I’m impressed. You don’t have a bra on,” he said, because that felt important.
“Nope.”
“You win. I bow down to you. What’s your pick?”
