All of Me (Inside Out Series Book 6) (13 page)

Part Thirteen

The Reason I Breathe

The morning of the wedding, I don’t awaken alone. I’m on my stomach with Chris draped over me, one leg twined with mine, his hand on my backside. It’s heaven. Not only am I marrying the love of my life, but he’s talented, sexy, and a really amazing person.

I like Chris. I admire and respect his decisions. And those things matter in big ways.

His fingers flex against my bottom and I smile. “You’re awake.”

“Hmmm. I’m awake.” He nuzzles my neck and his fingers trace the crevice of my backside, sending a shiver up my spine and tightening my nipples. “Contemplating all the things I want to do to you before I let you out of bed.”

“We can’t,” I say, trying to turn, but his leg holds me down. “Chris, not until tonight. We talked about this.”

He sighs and eases his hold on me. I turn face to face, my hand on his chest— a mistake, if I mean to resist him. He’s gorgeous and naked, and about to be my husband, which is the sexiest thing ever. And the way he’s looking at me, like he wants to gobble me up, is making him sexier and me hotter. He strokes my hair away from my face and when our eyes connect, he consumes me that easily. Chris does that to me. He wants, and I need. It’s how it is. It’s who we are.

His fingers press into my hip and he pulls us together, the thick ridge of his erection fitting into the vee of my body. I press my palm to his shoulder. “It’ll be better tonight if we don’t,” I say, trying to sound convincing. I fail.

“It’ll be better tonight because you’ll finally be mine.”

“And because we waited. No sex this morning.”

He rolls me to my back, his big, wonderful body an arousing weight on top of me. “Okay,” he agrees, as if his actions don’t contradict his words. “No sex this morning.” He eases down my body until his shoulders widen my legs, his lips brushing my belly. It trembles beneath his touch, and I’m desperate for an ounce of willpower.

“Chris. You said—”

“I just want to know if you taste different this morning, as Sara McMillan, than you will tonight as Sara Merit.”

“Stop saying Sara Merit.”

“Why?”

“Because it makes me want you.” He smiles and lowers his head. With what little willpower I have, I tangle my fingers in his hair. “No. This counts as sex.”

“A taste isn’t a full meal.” His hands slide under my backside and his breath teases my clit. My eyes close, my muscles tensing with anticipation, and he doesn’t make me wait. He licks the seam, sending a wave of sensations rolling through me. And then he’s kissing my belly again. “See. Just a taste.” He starts to get up.

Appalled, I sit up and grab his arm. “Don’t you dare leave me like this!”

His eyes dance with mischief. “I told you, just a taste.”

“You’re teasing me,” I accuse.

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

“If you’re going to start something, you have to finish it.”

“What about the no-sex-this-morning rule?”

“It’s silly.”

He laughs. “Is it, now?”

“Yes.” The doorbell to the rental house rings and I walk on my knees toward Chris. “Don’t get it.”

He flattens me against him, running his hand up my back, melding my chest to his chest. “It’s my tuxedo.” He kisses me and then releases me.

Defeated, I fall back on the bed and moan. “This is
not
how a bride should start her day.”

“Tonight.”

I rise up on my elbows to find him in his pajama bottoms, and sigh. “Right. Tonight.”

As he disappears through the door, I roll out of the bed and search for my robe. Not seeing it, I snatch up Chris’s shirt from the floor and slip it over my head. Eager to make sure his tuxedo is right, I rush down the hallway and reach the door as Chris is hanging a garment bag on the coat rack.

“Is it what you wanted?” I ask as he unzips the bag.

“Yes. I tried it on yesterday and left it to be pressed. It fits.”

I run my hand over the lapels. “I’d have been happy with you in your leather jacket.”

He faces me, towering over me. I forget how big he is sometimes, but he is. Tall, broad, and so very masculine. And he gives me one of his smoldering looks that say “I own you,” and my skin heats all over again.

“I like you in my shirt,” he says, his voice a low, raspy promise of hot kisses in all kinds of wonderful places.

“
I
like me in your shirt.” I sound breathless. I feel breathless.

We stare at each other, the air crackling with electricity.

“I know what I promised about this morning,” he says, “but do you know how hot it makes me to think about you being my wife?”

And that’s all it takes. I sway toward him, and just like that, we snap. Suddenly we’re kissing, his hands cupping my backside as he lifts me and sets me on the entryway table, tugging his shirt up.

Then I hear a car door slam, and my eyes open. The next sound I hear is Katie’s voice.

“Oh God. The window. The window by the door, Chris.”

He lifts me and sets me against the door, out of view of prying eyes.

“That was so close,” I say. “I didn’t even hear the car.”

“Why is she here?”

“To help me get ready, and probably to split us up. Which means it’s already noon.”

He glances through the glass pane next to the door and laughs. “Can you imagine her face if she’d caught us?”

The doorbell rings, and I push to my toes and kiss him. “Do you know how hot it makes me to think about you being my husband?”

And then I dart away, laughing when he groans. I think it’s safe to say we’re both looking forward to tonight.

•    •    •

Appalled that Chris and I spent the night together, Katie chides us for our bad wedding etiquette and hovers as I shower and pack. I have a few minutes alone as I finish gathering my things, then I head to the kitchen to find Chris and Katie standing by the coffeepot. I have no makeup on, my hair isn’t done, and I’m wearing his Harley T-shirt with a pair of sweats. He looks his normal biker hottie self, with jeans, a T-shirt, his leather jacket, and biker boots on. I drool.

“This instead of the tux,” I say. “I approve.”

His eyes light with mischief. “I’ll wear this if you wear my T-shirt,” he says, clearly referencing our hallway encounter. “Or not.”

Katie steps between us. “Stop it, you two. You aren’t even supposed to see each other until the wedding.” She turns to me. “I booked a massage for you in fifteen minutes. It’ll relax you.”

My throat thickens. “Massage? No. I just . . .”

Chris drapes his arm over my shoulder. “She doesn’t like other people touching her. Unless it’s me.”

I don’t know how he knows this. Maybe I’ve told him. Or maybe it’s just the way Chris gets me. But since Michael, I’m weird about being touched. It’s part of what made my intense physical reactions to Chris so surprising from the beginning.

She looks at Chris, her gaze soft, and I’m certain she senses he’s being a big, protective bear. “Sure, no massage.” The doorbell rings. “I’ll go tell her the massage is cancelled, then we should head to the chateau.”

She leaves me alone with Chris and I face him. “You knew.”

“Of course I knew.”

“I trusted you from the beginning. It’s like some part of me just knew you were safe.”

Katie pops her head in the door. “Let’s go. And break it up, you two.”

He grabs me and kisses me firmly. “See you soon, baby.”

I back up and wave and then turn and follow Katie outside, aware that the next time I see Chris, it will be to say “I do.”

The idea has me smiling as I slide into Katie’s BMW.

•    •    •

The tight security to get onto the chateau grounds should be comforting, but it reminds me of all the people arriving soon. All the vendor trucks and people running around don’t make the tremors in my stomach any better, either. Katie and I exit the car, and I’m pleased that it’s sunny and on the warm side, though it’s two o’clock now and the ceremony is at six, right at sunset, and I expect it will be chilly then.

I glance toward the steps leading to the chateau, relieved to see Jacob and Blake by the front door, both wearing Walker Security T-shirts. The instant they see us, they break away from several other men to approach and Blake whistles.

“The bride has arrived.”

“Yes, and she needs to be protected.”

“Oh?” he asks, sounding serious. “From what?”

“Tripping over my own feet in front of all these famous people coming today.”

“I’ve never seen you fall,” Jacob assures me. “Though I do remember ripped pantyhose and a lot of sand once.”

I blush, remembering that incident well myself. Chris had come home from Dylan’s funeral. We’d fought, and ended up making love on the beach. Later, we’d tried to sneak into the garage unnoticed, but Jacob had busted us. “Thanks for that memory, Jacob. I feel better already.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” he says with a wink. “But seriously. We’re here. We’ve got your back in all things.”

“Thank you. You sure we can’t hire you away from Mark and Crystal?”

“Chris is too private to have me following you two around like I do them.”

I glance around as a car pulls up, and I’m excited to see Chantal and her mother emerge, and unsurprised when Rey gets out of the front of the car. Chantal rushes to me and gives me one of her customary hugs, and I realize that, in general, I don’t mind being touched the way I used to. Because of Chris.

“Do you want to see the ceremony area?” Katie asks, joining us, while Blake and Jacob move on to take care of business.

“Yes, please.”

Rey heads off to help the security crew, but not before whispering in Chantal’s ear. She’d returned to the lunch table yesterday and said nothing about kissing him in the hallway, so I’m dying of curiosity. She and I follow Katie and her mother through the chateau to inspect the ceremony area out back, stopping first at the reception area. There is a rose ice sculpture and plenty of flowers, and while the Paris scene on the chocolate cake is impressive, my favorite cake is the three-tiered strawberry one with elaborate roses on the edges.

After our tour and inspection, there is a lunch that I only nibble at. Shortly after, Katie delivers me and Chantal to a sitting room and orders, “Rest until the hair and makeup people get here. It’s going to be an adrenaline rush later that will drain you.”

She leaves and we enter a room with a gigantic couch, a vanity and chair, and a tall, triple-paned standing mirror. But it’s what’s hanging on the mirror that has my attention.

My dress, in all its rose-etched glory.

Chantal steps to my side. “It’s even more gorgeous than I remember.”

“It is. It really is.”

“Come on,” she urges. “Let’s lie down and rest. I’m up for a fifteen-minute snooze.” She sits down on the couch and pulls off one of the throw blankets on the back.

I join her, taking the second blanket. “Because you were with Rey last night?”

Her eyes go wide. “How did you know?”

“I saw you kiss him yesterday by the bathroom.”

She smiles. “He kissed me—or at least, that’s how it started. Why didn’t you say something?”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because I needed to think first.”

“And?”

“And I don’t know.” She kicks off her tennis shoes and turns to sit against the end of the couch, her knees to her chest.

I do the same, prodding, “What does that mean?”

“It means I’m nervous with Rey. He could hurt me, Sara. I could fall hard for him.” She laughs without humor. “Who am I kidding? I already have. It terrifies me, and yet I need him in this really intense way.”

“Does he return your feelings?”

“He doesn’t talk about feelings. He just says he’s bad for me, but he can’t seem to walk away. He pretty much ordered me not to see Tristan again.”

“And you said?”

“Considering he was naked and in bed with me at the time, I said I wouldn’t. Besides, Tristan and I were about mutual heartache and escape. Rey had rejected me, and Tristan had lost Amber. We helped each other. The connection beyond that doesn’t exist.

“Rey is different. All he has to do is look at me, and I feel him in all kinds of crazy ways. And I think I make him feel the same. Isn’t that what we all want? To be with someone who consumes us? Who makes us want to give them all that we are, even though it’s terrifying?”

“Yes,” I whisper. “Yes, it is. But they have to
deserve
all of you, Chantal. Make sure Rey does before you give it to him.”

“The way Chris does?”

“Yes. The way Chris does.”

“No cold feet at all?”

“None. Chris has all of me.”

•    •    •

Chantal leaves to get herself ready when the makeup and hair women arrive. I change into the sexy white bra and panty set I bought for today, with thigh-highs and garters. My face is then soaked in some sort of mask, and after that the true styling process begins. Once my hair and makeup are done, the two of them help me into my dress without mishap.

I’m standing in front of the mirror, admiring the long, sheer sleeves of the dress when a knock sounds and Katie pokes her head in. “Need help?” She quickly enters the room, shutting us inside, her face glowing with excitement. “You are such a beautiful bride. I’d worried about you not having a veil, but you’re elegance personified. Absolute perfection.”