Four Weddings and a Werewolf

Chapter Eleven

Logan guided Veronica to the dance floor and then tugged her into his arms. She was warm to the touch, and fit into his body perfectly. They were heart to heart, and when Logan realized he could feel her heartbeat against his skin, he almost pulled away.

But he couldn’t force himself to do it.

“Why are you a commitment-phobe, Logan?” she asked, gazing over his shoulder. “Were you married before?”

“No, but my mother is a serial bride. At least she was when I knew her.” He fought to keep his hand still on her lower back. He longed to let it rest on her ass, or slide it up and tangle his fingers in her hair. “Each time she got married, she seemed happier at the wedding, and blindsided when they divorced. It was all a show. One big show for friends and family.”

Dancing in a slow rhythm, Logan spun Veronica around, and couldn’t help but notice the couples who looked genuinely happy. But they weren’t. They couldn’t be as happy as they pretended to be.

Veronica adjusted her arm over his shoulder to hold him tighter. Did she even realize it? Did she feel the same pull to him that he did to her?

“Some weddings are a show, yes,” she said, “but others are a true declaration of undying love. Maybe your mother hadn’t found the right person.”

“Most of the time there is no right person.” The words slipped out. “Just cardboard cutouts that people place beside themselves so they won’t feel lonely in their own skin.”

“Wow…you really think that?” She looked at him, piercing him with those big doe eyes. “You think the bride and groom at this wedding are lonely?”

His steps slowed. “They’re afraid to be alone. That’s exactly why I won’t ever get married. I’m not afraid of being alone…in fact, I can’t imagine spending my life with anyone. I’d go nuts.”

Especially someone who would spend every spare second telling him how much she hated wolves. Fate had a whacked sense of humor.

“If you think that, then I’m sure your wish will come true.” Veronica’s hand drifted to the back of his neck. Chills gathered at the base of his skull as her fingers traced the edge of his hairline. “If there’s any fear, it’s not for being lonely. It’s fear of being vulnerable. Today is the day when they pledged their life to another. I think this is the day when this couple will love each other the most and— ”

“That’s bull,” Logan said, his feet going still. He gazed deep into Veronica’s eyes, unable to shake the feeling that she was pulling him in. “Their wedding day is the day they should love each other the least. Their love should build from here, not fade.”

Her lips parted, and her brown eyes sparkled.

Veronica rose up and caught his mouth, startling him. Her lips brushed his, a silky caress that forced Logan’s eyes to roll back and his hand to skate up her back. She shuddered beneath his touch, her body bending into his. His chest constricted as she breathed into the kiss, giving a little sigh of pleasure against his lips.

The song ended. Their kiss broke.

“What was that for?” he asked, keeping his mouth lowered over hers. He could still taste her, feel her. He wanted more.

“For caring, even if you pretend you don’t.” She stamped another kiss on his mouth. This one was soft and plush, tugging something in his middle. “Thank you for helping me set up the ballroom this afternoon.”

Before she could say something to ruin the moment, Logan grabbed Veronica by the hand and led her out of the ballroom and down the hall.

…

“Where are you taking me?” Veronica could barely keep up with Logan. He was pulling her by the arm, past the lobby and into an elevator, right as the doors opened. “Logan, slow down.”

“I can’t.”

He tugged her in behind him. Spun around and pinned her against the elevator wall. He didn’t even wait for the elevator doors to close. His hands were on either side of her head. The thick length of his thigh was pressed between her legs, spreading them apart. He was leaning over her and breathing hard. Splaying her hands against the glossy wall, Veronica gazed up into his steel-gray eyes. He was barely hanging on to a thread of control. Barely restraining himself from doing…what, exactly?

“I can’t slow down,” he said, almost to himself as the doors hissed shut. “Why can’t I slow down with you?”

He punched a floor number and they were off.

“If that’s what you really want, you could start by removing your leg from between my thighs.”

Logan sucked in a clipped breath, then lowered his mouth over hers. “If you say the word thigh again, you may break me.”

Smiling, she whispered, “Pussy willow.”

He crushed his mouth to hers, sending her stomach whirling. His tongue penetrated her mouth, exploring deep and wide with urgent strokes. His kiss tasted of possession. Of claiming. Veronica leaned back, her heart fluttering as Logan tunneled his fingers through her hair.

“You should wear your hair down more often,” he said against her lips. “It’s sexy as hell. I’ve been wanting to run my fingers through it all night.”

She kissed him again. Deeper. He smelled so good. Masculine and fresh. His hands skimmed up her back, and when he reached her hair, he pulled, arching her into him. He groaned and deepened the kiss, slanting his lips over hers.

Their mouths parted abruptly. Veronica reached out for him, but he took a step back and slammed a fist against the stop button. As Veronica held on to the rails for dear life, a laugh bubbled out of her. The elevator jerked to a halt and jiggled a bit on its wires. The lights dimmed, giving off an amber glow that illuminated the strong angles of Logan’s face. Seizing the camera in the corner of the elevator with one hand, Logan ripped cords from its base with the other. He tossed the wires to the floor and came at her again.

He roped his arms around her waist and kissed her. There was no gentleness, no slowing down. His tongue was eager, searching the deep, wet recesses of her mouth. Stomach somersaulting, Veronica matched him stroke for stroke, and moaned as her heart clenched with a thud. She clawed the wide breadth of his shoulders and trailed her hands down his back.

“Hold on,” he said, pressing his palm flat against her stomach. His chest rose and fell in heaves as he tried to catch his breath. “I think I should…there’s something you should know about me first.”

“I’ve already seen you buck naked, and believe me, you’ve got nothing to be shy about.”

She hauled herself against him, capturing his mouth in a wet kiss. His body slid against hers, rough. Greedy. Her lungs came up empty as his hands explored the curves of her body and his mouth moved fiercely over hers. He palmed her breast and skimmed his thumb over her nipple. Her bra was lace and covered little, making every touch heightened as his thumb moved the lace over her skin. Her body trembled with want.

“Wait, I want more of this,” he mumbled against her lips.

“Then why do you keep stopping?”

“Because if we’re going to keep doing this, you have to know that I’m—”

She nipped at his lip and suckled it into her mouth, shutting him up. “I want you, just as you are, whether it’s one more minute, one more time, or one more night.”

His mouth caught hers on a groan. His fingers twisted in her hair, tugging and pulling at the base of her neck. He kissed her cheek, her chin, her neck. His mouth was hot on her skin, and as his tongue shot out to trace her collarbone, Veronica moved out of pure reaction, slamming her hands against his shoulders and driving him backward. He hit the opposite elevator wall and smiled as she nailed him with another smoldering kiss.

She skated her hands over his body, relishing in the contact, the heat. As she raked her nails over the grooves of his abs, his stomach tensed and his muscles pulsed. Her hands drifted lower, and she cupped the bulge in his pants. Touch wasn’t enough. She needed to take him in her mouth—she’d never had the urge before. Not this strongly, at least. If she didn’t touch him skin to skin, she was going to burst.

She ripped at his collar, desperation setting in. “I could tear this tux right off your body.”

“Slow down, sugar, I can feel your heartbeat.” His hand lay over her breast. “It’s pounding like a jackrabbit’s.”

“My heart isn’t there,” she half laughed and arched into his touch. “But close.”

As he stripped off his tie and went to work unbuttoning his shirt, Veronica closed her mouth over his again.

“Hurry.” She gasped into his mouth as moisture pooled between her legs. “I’m so hungry for you.”

He pulled back, some sort of recognition sparking deep in his eyes.

“No way, you’re not pulling back now.” She grabbed a fistful of his hair and smashed her lips against his. Her skin was burning; her legs and arms were not her own.

On a throaty moan that rippled through her, Logan jerked his shirt out of his pants and shook his arms out of the sleeves. In the dim lights of the elevator, Logan’s skin looked golden. Warrior-like. He was hard as a rock, and larger than life.

She dropped to her knees. Unzipped his pants and yanked them down. She nearly gasped at the sight of his erection as it bobbed out of his pants. A desperate spasm of want shook her to the core. Licking her lips, she took his shaft in her hand and then flicked her tongue over his engorged tip. His hands found the back of her head, but he didn’t push or urge her on. His fingers were ghosts of pressure, skating over her hair.

“Veronica, you don’t have to do this,” he said.

But as she took the thick length of him in her mouth, he groaned so deep and loud that it shook the walls. She worked her mouth over him, up and down, up and down, adding pressure to the base of his shaft when his fingers began to clutch handfuls of her hair.

“Baby,” he moaned, “that feels…amazing.”

Every sensation was new, every feeling of pleasure heightened. Being completely in tune with the sensations surging inside him, it was as if Veronica’s own pleasure was doubled. Every time she sucked, licking a slow, thick line around his tip, Logan’s backside clenched and he gasped for air. When the base of his spine tightened, balling with tension, waves of pure, brilliant pleasure sparked through Veronica’s body, warning that her peak wasn’t far away.

“You have to stop,” he said, his stance widening. “If you want me inside you, you have to stop now.”

She’d never wanted anything more.

Veronica rose from her knees and backed away, then lifted her dress over her head and tossed it onto the elevator floor.

In the few seconds it took her to strip down, Logan had removed a condom from his pocket. He rolled it over his shaft, then shoved the foil wrapper back in his pants. “Can never be too prepared,” he said, smirking.

This time it was Veronica who made the move. She charged at him and gave a little jump, wrapping her legs around his waist.

Scooping her into his arms, Logan squeezed the round of her backside and lifted her higher so her breasts were nearly in his face. She threw her head back and moaned. He hadn’t even touched her yet, and the delicious pressure in her core was already building to a crest.

He spun around and pinned her against the wall. She let her arms go slack around his neck and lowered herself over him. When their bodies came together, they both cried out. He lifted her hips and used the wall for support, pounding into her. Burying himself deep inside.

“Veronica,” he said through clenched teeth. He went rigid, his thrusts shorter and tighter. “I want you. Longer than one more night…”

Using the rail for balance, Veronica rolled her hips over him. His fingers gouged into her backside as he held her, poised exactly where she needed to be.

“You have me,” she said. “I’m yours.”

As he thrust into her one last time, he emptied himself, his entire body convulsing in waves of sharp pleasure. She followed him over the peak, a cry ripping from her lungs as sensations in her core trembled, tightened, and exploded in a rich flood of rapture.