He considered it for a moment, but this was between him and his best friend. It was something he needed to do himself. “I’ve got it.”
Her expression crumpled. “I want to see you tonight—just for a while. I can call when I’m alone in my room … unless you’d rather be alone or …”
It was on the tip of his tongue to say that it was probably best if the two of them got some sleep, but that’s not what came out.
His hands found their way to her waist. “It’s almost a tradition for the maid of honor to sleep with the best man on the night before the wedding.”
The light returned to her face. “Is that so? Well, I’m all for tradition.”
Chapter 17
Vic driedoff from her bath and had just put on her silk bathrobe when Eric texted.
I’m outside your door.
She hurried to her door, opened it.
Eric stood there in a black T-shirt and jeans, his jaw dark with stubble, one arm propped on the door jamb, phone in his other hand. He’d had a shower since she’d last seen him, his hair still damp.
“I missed you all day.”
“I’m here now.” He stepped through the door, locked it behind him. “God, you smell good.”
“I just took a bath. I never like the products they use in spas, so I—”
He cut off her words with a deep kiss, backing her up against the wall. His mouth ravaged hers, one hand sliding inside her robe to caress first one breast and then the other. But she was more than ready for him.
She’d been aching for him all day. “I want you.”
He drew away from her just far enough to open his jeans and put on a condom, then reached beneath her robe, grasped her bare ass, and lifted her off her feet, pinning her against the wall with his weight.
“Oh!” She gave a startled gasp, wrapping her legs around his waist and throwing her arms around his neck to hold on.
“I’ve got you.” He nuzzled her throat, the head of his cock nudging against her, trying to find its way inside her.
Oh, God, was he really going to do this?
He broke the kiss, his dark eyes looking into hers, his cock now right where it needed to be. “God, Vicki, what have you done to me?”
She let go of his neck, cupped his face in her hands, and kissed him. “Fuck me.”
Slowly, he buried himself inside her, inch by excruciating inch.
“You are so …tight.” He moved slowly at first, his rhythm picking up thrust by thrust until his hips were a piston, driving his cock into her hard and deep and fast.
She’d always wanted to have sex like this, but none of the men she’d been with had even tried, perhaps because they knew they weren’t strong enough to handle it. Oh, she loved how feminine and desired it made her feel.
“Oh, yes.” She fought to keep her eyes open, turned on by the intensity on his face as he drove into her, but it just felt … too … damned … good.
She moaned with every thrust now, her self-control shattered. God, she wanted this, wanted more, wanted him. The slick glide of his cock. The sweet stretch deep inside her. That wonderful, precious ache.
She cried out his name, climax crashing over her in a perfect wave of bliss, drenching her with pleasure. But he was right behind her.
His breath caught, his body shuddering as orgasm carried him away.
For a time, they remained as they were—out of breath, hearts pounding, him deep inside her. Then he reached down, took hold of the condom, and withdrew from her.
She moaned in protest. “No.”