Tempting Her Best Friend (15 page)

She had always been the one constant in his life, and he couldn’t believe it’d taken this crazy town and a romance convention to make him come to his senses. Yeah, this was the perfect place for them to take their vows.

“I’d say hell yes,” he rasped through the emotion clogging his throat. Without taking his eyes off hers, he said, “Trent, you may proceed.”

“Finally,” Trent said with an exasperated sigh. “Any longer and I would have died of old age.”

“Still a drama queen, I see, Trenton,” said Dillon’s “best man” with an amused smirk on his face.

“You shush. I’ll deal with you later. And be prepared to move your ass back in with me where you belong.”

The blond TSA employee smiled like a kid on Christmas morning as the women whispered a chorus of “awwwwws.” There was clearly some history here that Dillon didn’t know about, but his best man looked about as happy as Dillon felt, so he clapped him on the shoulder in congratulations as Trent gave the order to start the ceremony.

Elvis slapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Man, I really like Vegas.”

Dillon grinned at the famous quote and couldn’t have agreed more. Vegas had given him the woman of his dreams in twenty-four hours—and delivered her in a wedding dress to boot. “And Elvis,” he added, pinning Alyssa with a heated look, “give us the short version.”

Epilogue

Alyssa couldn’t hide her amusement as she listened to Dillon and his sister Maddy banter like they were still twelve.

“It’s called serial dating, sis. I should know; I’m a recovered offender.”

Maddy scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Please. My dating life is nothing like yours was, junior. You didn’t have
dates
with women. You had scheduled appointments for—”

“Maddy,” he barked, shifting his eyes to where Alyssa sat next to him on their couch. Alyssa placed her fingers over her mouth to hold in her laughter. Dillon hated that she knew so much about his past dalliances and liked to pretend they never happened. He was fond of telling Alyssa that from the moment he kissed her, all memories of other women vanished. And to be honest, she was fond of hearing it.

It’d been almost six months since they’d returned from Vegas a happily married couple. Dillon wasted no time in putting the town houses up on the market so he and Alyssa could buy a house together. It had been a harrowing few months of selling, searching, closing, and moving, but they were finally settled into their new home, and Alyssa couldn’t be happier.

They’d invited Maddy over for dinner, and now they sat in the living room, drinking coffee—though Maddy had opted for wine—and talking while they waited for dessert to be ready.

Maddy huffed out an exasperated sigh. “Fine, but you know what I’m talking about. I’m not dating to sow my wild oats or get them sowed into me or whatever the hell that metaphor would be for a girl. I’m interested in finding a partner I can share my life with, someone decent and honest and good. But all I find are crazies, liars, and assholes.”

Dillon narrowed his eyes and his jaw muscles flexed. “I don’t like you using those dating websites, Madison. You could be meeting up with psychos for all you know.”

“Don’t go all He-Man on me, little brother. The same thing is true if I were to meet guys at a bar or the grocery store, and in this day and age, if you want to connect with people, you do it online.”

Alyssa placed her hand on Dillon’s arm when she felt him tense in preparation for an argument. “Easy, Cujo.” When he relaxed enough to sit back, she turned to Maddy. “Maybe you should stop looking for a while. Give yourself a break. Love has a way of finding you when you least expect it.”

Dillon gave her thigh a squeeze, telling her he knew exactly what she meant. Though they’d both secretly wanted to be together for years, neither could have predicted the intensity of the love they’d find in one another. It was as though years and years of love had built up between them, contained only by the boundary of their friendship. And as soon as they crossed that line, everything slammed into them all at once. There’d been no easing into anything, no feelings that needed time to develop and grow. No, they’d gone straight from the best of friends to the best of lovers, which is why getting married twenty-four hours after their first kiss was anything but strange to them.

“Look, you two,” Maddy said. “I know you’re both in the disgustingly adorable honeymoon phase right now, but try to remember what it’s like in the real world.” She sat forward on the love seat and drilled her forefinger on the coffee table to punctuate her points. “I’m twenty-six. Even if I find a great guy tomorrow, there’s the getting-to-know-you phase, followed by the awkward maybe-I-should-keep-a-toothbrush-at-your-place period, then finally the big-scary-let’s-move-in-together step. All of that could take up to several years before there’s even mention of a proposal, assuming everything is still great. Then let’s assume he wants a long engagement. This puts me at getting married in my mid-to late thirties! And don’t even get me started on my odds of having children before I’m considered high risk due to age.”

She tipped her head back and drained the rest of her wine. Alyssa had never seen Maddy so lost before. After all, she’d known Maddy just as long as Dillon since they were twins. But as kids, they’d fought constantly and preferred not hanging out with each other, so Alyssa had never been close with her like she was with Dillon.

“My point is,” Maddy continued as she poured herself another glass of wine, “the perfect guy isn’t going to just randomly show up at my door. And
that
is why I date so much. He’s out there, and I’ll find him eventually. I just wish I didn’t have to date so many damn frogs first.”

As her sister-in-law took another fortifying sip, Alyssa glanced at the clock over the mantle. “Oh, excuse me; it’s time to put the finishing touches on dessert. I’ll be right back.”

…

“I’ll go with you. I need some more coffee.” Dillon stood and handed his sister the TV remote. “Here, Mad, feel free to channel surf.”

“Gee, thanks,” she mumbled.

Dillon ignored her sarcasm and stalked his wife as she made her way to the kitchen. After dinner she’d changed out of her work clothes into lounge wear.
God bless the inventor of yoga pants.
The light pink material hugged her ass like a second skin and watching her walk made his mouth water and his groin ache. It didn’t matter where he was or what time of the day, he always seemed to have Aly—more specifically a naked Aly—on his mind. He didn’t think he’d ever get enough of her.

“Should we be worried about Maddy?” she asked, picking up the small kitchen torch on the counter.

Dillon moved in behind her and wrapped his arms around her small waist. “I don’t want to talk about my sister. Despite her little episode back there, she’s still a ballbuster who can take care of herself.” He moved her hair aside with his chin to nuzzle her neck and placed kisses behind her ear and his hands traveled up to cup her breasts over her tank top.

“Dillon.”

His name left her lips on a breathy moan that made his cock twitch behind his zipper. “Hmmm?” he asked absently, his mouth moving down the cord in her neck.

“I’m about to operate a mini-flamethrower. Perhaps you should let me concentrate.” He answered with a firm squeeze to her tits that made her breath catch, but still she managed to gain control enough to sound indifferent. “Unless of course you’d rather not bother with the crème brûlée…”

He froze and quickly weighed his options. He could say “screw it” and continue the path he was on, but then the desserts she’d put thought and effort into would be ruined. Or he could suck it up, throw a temporary restraining order on his dick, and enjoy his favorite dessert despite the extra workout he’d need tomorrow.

Growling in frustration, he took a reluctant step back. “Damn it, woman, you play dirty.”

She chuckled and motioned for him to stand on the other side of the counter before she began. She was right not to trust him until they had a large barrier between them. He had a hard time keeping his hands off her under normal circumstances, much less once he’d already lit the fuse.

Alyssa reached into the sugar bowl, pinched some sugar between her fingers, and slowly sprinkled it over the first dessert. She repeated the process for each of the six ramekins, purposely avoiding his molten gaze and most definitely taking her sweet-ass time. Finally, she finished and glanced up at him through her lashes as she sucked the bits of remaining sugar from her fingertips.

He fisted his hands on top of the counter and nearly ground his teeth into dust. “Aly,” he growled in warning.

She offered him a coquettish smile. “Yes, darling?”

“You realize you’re playing with fire.”

Lighting the small torch and adjusting the flame, she blinked innocently. “I thought we’d already established that. Now sit tight. I’m almost done.”

Oh, he’d sit tight all right. Because although it was torture for him, it wasn’t any easier on her. To anyone else she’d appear just as she wanted: calm and unaffected as she focused on moving the torch in small circles to avoid burning the sugar. But he knew what to look for—her pulse fluttering at her throat, her nipples hardening into tight buds, her breaths quickening—and knew she practically trembled with anticipation. Just as
he
wanted.

As she worked on the last one, Dillon started moving around the counter prematurely. One slow step after another, giving her time to finish, but keeping the pressure on. No sooner had she set the dish down and turned the torch off than he crowded behind her once again and pinned her hips against the counter with his own.

He was already rock hard, and he’d bet she was just as wet. Dillon spun her around to face him and secured both of her wrists behind her back with his left hand. With his right, he fisted her hair at the nape and tilted her head to the side. Cerulean eyes stared into his soul and he welcomed the vulnerability. He’d never hide any part of himself from her ever again.

Her eyes slipped closed as he pressed his cock against her sensitive core. “For as long as I’ve known you, I never pegged you as a tease, baby.”

“You would have been correct,” she said breathlessly. “Seems you bring out the worst in me.”

A deep chuckle bubbled up from his chest. “I think you mean the best, sweetheart. Because frankly I fucking love your naughty side. So let’s see whatcha got.”

He released her wrists in favor of palming her ass and hauling her up his body. Alyssa wrapped her legs around him as he maneuvered them to the other side of the refrigerator, providing them a modicum of privacy and time to regroup should his sister wander in for more wine.

With her shoulders braced against the solid appliance, she rocked her center on his straining cock. He groaned. She moaned. Then they attacked each other like lovers gone mad.

Hands roamed restlessly. Mouths kissed ravenously. They moved against each other as though their clothes didn’t exist. He rubbed his hard length against her clit over and over, pushing them both toward the summit of their pleasure.

“Fuck, Aly, I’m not gonna last much—”
Buzzzzzzzzzzz!
He stopped all movement, his breaths sawing in and out. “What the hell is that?”

Alyssa pushed her legs down until he was forced to release her. When her feet hit the floor, she smoothed her hair and grinned. “That, my dear husband, would be your favorite dessert. It just needed a few minutes to cool, and now it’s ready.”

Dillon followed her over to the counter, placed his hands on her hips, and dipped his head to kiss along her jawline. “Baby, as much as I love your crème brûlée, you’ll always be my favorite dessert.”

“Mmm, good answer. But I was thinking…”

“Hmmm?”

She smiled and tipped her head back on his shoulder, encouraging his nips and kisses. “What if we combined the two?”

He froze for the second time in as many minutes. “You mean…you
and
crème brûlée? Together?”

She shrugged, feigning indifference. “It’s just a thought, but if you’d rather not—”

“Here, take this,” he said, cutting her off and shoving a ramekin at her. Then he grabbed a spoon and another ramekin. “Just in case we’re extra hungry,” he explained with a wink.

She nodded and tried to keep a serious look on her face. “Always thinking ahead. That’s what makes you such a great foreman.”

“Baby, I’m a good foreman because I’m good at giving orders. Now, get your sexy ass upstairs.”

He punctuated his command with a slap on her butt. Alyssa squealed before bubbling over with laughter and answering with a proper “Yes, sir” that made his balls draw up tight. Then she spun and took off for the stairs with him hot on her heels.

Stopping briefly at the bottom, he called out so his twin could hear him in the front of the house. “Maddy, help yourself to dessert in the kitchen and the guest suite if you’ve had too much wine. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” They heard a faint acknowledgement, and then Dillon resumed his ascent to where Aly stood waiting for him on the landing.

When he reached her, he cupped the back of her neck with his free hand and pulled her in close. “It’s time I finally show my wife just how much I love her crème brûlée.” And with that, he started the rest of their night off with a searing, mouthwatering kiss.

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