Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Foxx smirks, sliding a hand around my waist and dragging me into his chest. I gasp as reality suddenly gets real.
I’m Mrs. Foxx Carmichael.
He licks his lips, his face inches from mine. “This won’t be the only thing touching you deeply today.”
My legs turn to gelatin. “Careful, Mr. Carmichael, or we might not reach our honeymoon.”
“I’m sorry, everyone,” Damaris says. “Iris gets to keep the cake.”
“I’d like everyone to stop for a moment and take note that, for once, it wasn’t me who ruined things. It was Jess,” Banks says.
A commotion breaks out again, but I lose interest.
Foxx’s hands coddle my face like a precious stone. He stares into my eyes as if his heart will stop beating if he loses contact. Slowly, his mouth falls to mine.
His warm and commanding lips own mine as his hands caress my head and lower back equally. I give in and turn over control to my new husband.
Warmth blossoms in my chest as Foxx’s lips brush against mine. Dizzy, I lean into the kiss, inhaling the scent of his cologne and absorbing the heat of his breath.
This kiss is a promise of things to come.
Someone begins to clap. It’s quickly followed by a lot of clapping and a few whistles and shouts. Foxx’s forehead rests against mine as we attempt to slow our breathing. My God, this man can kiss. I giggle. He better do a lot more than that on the honeymoon.
“What?” he asks.
“I forgot they were watching,” I say, laughing.
“I didn’t.”
What? What is that supposed to mean?
He kisses my forehead and then takes my hand, turning us to face his family and Jason. I’m woozy on my feet as he leads me to the house. His mom mentions something about the ruined cake, and Foxx tells her not to worry about it without breaking stride.
We slip inside the den. Foxx quickly locks the door behind us.
“What—oh!” I gasp as I’m spun and pinned against the back of the door.
My chest rises and falls as I labor to stay calm.
Foxx’s gaze drips down my neck and over my collarbone. He unapologetically drags his eyes down my chest, over my belly, and stopping at the apex of my thighs before returning his attention to my face again.
“You are so beautiful, Bianca,” he says, his voice raspy. “But I can’t wait to get you out of this damn dress.”
My cheeks heat, but I manage to restrain myself from kissing him again. Through quick breaths, I give him an arrogant smile.
He’s tortured me for the last day. Thanks to Astrid and the lingerie she sent me last night, I have the upper hand. And he’s going to pay for his sins.
“It’s too bad we have a whole reception to get through,” I say, holding his gaze as I tilt my pelvis into him. “To think that I must sit in these soaked panties while pretending to care about the punch. Your mom will be talking about finger foods, and I’ll be thinking about you licking my wetness off your fingers.”
His chuckle ends with a growl.
I want you so bad, but I’d rather have you begging than me throwing myself at you.
“We better go,” I say, batting my lashes. “We have to thank everyone, share in the toast, have our first dance … It will take a while.”
His eyes darken. “One dance. Let’s go.” He takes my hand, unlocks the door, and tugs me outside.
My laughter trails us.
CHAPTER 18
Foxx
“This is so great,” Bianca says, taking in the suite my brothers rented. “Look at the view.”
She stands at the windows overlooking Silver Springs State Park. Jess said the views from this hotel were great, room service was excellent, and it was close to a variety of things to do if we wanted to get out and do something fun.
I didn’t tell him that everything fun I want to do will be in this room.
The drive to the hotel was quick, thanks to light traffic, and fun, thanks to Bianca’s inability to go two minutes without talking. I’ve never seen her this relaxed or energized. It’s adorable. I found myself prodding her to keep her talking about the random shit she’d bring up. We talked about everything from mergers and makeup to contracts and couture. Well, she talked about everything. I occasionally contributed a thought or two. But I was happy to listen to her babble on about the things that interest her.
We talked about everything—besides fucking. But it was all we were thinking about.
I pointedly avoided addressing it outright if for no other reason than to drive her crazy. I want her ready for me, desperate to be touched. It will only make it that much better for her in the end.
“The view has been good all day,” I say, sitting on a red leather sofa.
She turns around, pressing her back against the glass.