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Which was totally fucking fine withme.
I’d felt a little obligated to hang out with our wedding guests, even though the reception was long over, and I knew Katie did, too. After all, they’d come all the way up here, hours north of the city, by floatplane, just to attend our wedding—at a remote resort in the wilderness that didn’t even have Wi-Fi—despite the fact that many of them were rock stars, or people who worked with rock stars, and therefore had other shit to do. I figured the least we could do was keep them fed, liquored, andentertained.
Still; if I didn’t get to bury my dick in my new wife soon, I was gonna explode. Maybe literally. I’d been hard all fuckingday.
Well, notallday. But every time Katie kissed me, or brushed up against me, or looked at me like she was doing rightnow…
Rockhard.
I adjusted a little in my jeans, thinking about the welcoming warmth of Katie’s pussy, slippery wet and swollen… all hot for me and so sweet andtight—
Jesus.
I took a cooling swig of mybeer.
Time to fuckinggo.
Only one slight problem. That being, I didn’t love leaving my little sister to thewolves.
There were only a few people left by the fire, and my sister was one of them. After the reception had wound down and most of the wedding guests stumbled off to bed, my band, Dirty, and some of our closest friends had come out to the fire pit on one of the low cliffs over the cove to jam. We’d been drinking and playing songs, which had been incredible. With my sister, Jessa, here, it was like old times. The way it used to be when we were all together and she was still with the band. Thebesttimes.
But now the music had died and everyone was kind of paired off and chatting. Jessa and her friend Roni were huddled together, whispering in low, conspiratorial voices, glancing over at Dylan and his buddy, Ash. I didn’t even wanna know what that was about, though I was pretty sure it was about Roni, notJessa.
Dylan and Ash were drinking and goofing around, asusual.
Brody, our band manager and another of my groomsmen, was sitting back in silence next to Maggie, our assistant manager, looking tense, just like he had the entire wedding. At least, whenever my sister wasaround.
And there was Zane, his arm around my wife and that infamous panty-wetting grin on hisface.
“Unless, of course, you aren’t up to it.” Jesus; was he still fucking talking? At me? “Maybe you need a little nap? It’s been a long day, and you’re getting old. Pushing thirty. And you’ve been drinking… Maybe you just need someone to fill in for you. You know, get things warmedup—”
“That kind of comment didn’t fly when I was dating her,” I told him, keeping my tone casual. No way I was letting Zane fuck with me tonight, and just because he was a recovered alcoholic and therefore sober did not mean he got to win some imaginary hard dick contest. I was plenty able to fuck my wife. Didn’t matter how late it got or how many beers were passed around; I’d been pacing myself, too. “It’s definitely not gonna fly now that I’ve marriedher.”
Zane justlaughed.
Fuckingguy.
I could not wait ’til he fell in love. I’d have a fucking field day with that shit. The guy was always busting everyone else’s balls; he deserved somepayback.
Of course, I wouldn’t hold my breath waiting on Zane to get serious about a woman. Fucking around was kind of hislifeblood.
Case in point: we’d just finished jamming on an acoustic cover of “Brown Eyed Girl”—Zane’s idea. He’d sung it specifically to serenade my brown-eyed sister, probably in part because he was happy she was here—we all were; it’d been fucking years since she’d been home to see us all—but also in part to piss off Brody. Because nothing ramped up Zane’s meddling urges like a guy who obviously had it bad for a girl—yet failed to make a play forher.
“Hate to say it, but he’s right,” Brody told me, low enough Zane wouldn’t hear as he settled into a seat next to me; I was watching the cocky bastard whisper in Katie’s ear, making her laugh. “Just go back to your cabin and I’ll take care of things here. It’s past three o’clock. At this rate, your wedding night’ll be over before you consummateit.”
That may have been so, but I didn’t like being told when, how or where to fuck my own woman. It wasn’t Brody’s fault, though; he was just born bossy. Usually, I didn’tmind.
“How about you?” I cocked an eyebrow at him. “Amanda?”
He sucked on his beer, looking gloomy. “Later.”
I doubtedthat.
Brody had brought his latest “girlfriend” to the wedding, but that didn’t mean much. It never did. They were always perfectly nice and perfectly pretty, with perfectly nice names like Amanda or Jennifer or Michelle—and he was always bored with them before they even got started. The odds of him actually sleeping with this one tonight seemed slim, what with the way he’d been acting around my sister all day… avoiding the shit out of her, then staring at her from afar like some lovelornstalker.
My little sister was gorgeous; I got that. She turned heads everywhere she went, and not just because she was a lingerie model and looked like one. There was something about her that guys had always eaten up, even when she was a dorky little kid; I’d had to witness it all my life. It was this kind of awkward sweetness she had, some kind of dick-throttling magic that made boys follow her home from school and reduced grown men to idiots. Made them all—boys and men alike—want to get in her face, push her buttons; make her squeeze out a smile in their direction so they’d feel better aboutthemselves.
None more thanBrody.
