The Hustle (Irreparable 4) - Page 75

“Thank you,” I whisper, holding her in a tight hug.

She sucks in a ragged breath, releasing me. “I’m sorry for all the times I’ve hurt you.”

“No . . . stop,” I say caressing her cheek. “We’ve hurt each other, but that’s our past. Let’s leave it there.”

She wipes her cheeks and nods. “I love you, Tuggy.”

“I love you, too, Tor.”

After another hug, my sister approaches me. Liv and I have a love/hate relationship, but at the end of the day, she’s my best friend. Before Peyton, she was the only one who could see through me.

“Little bother,” she says, smiling.

I laugh, remembering how she always used to call me bother, not brother.

“Big sis.” I yank her in for a hug.

When she pulls away, she hands me a folded piece of paper and says, “When you’re ready.”

The way she smiles with concern, I know the letter is from my father. She leaves as I stare at the cream stationary in my hand, not certain I’ll ever be ready to read the words of the one man who failed his family more than I did.

“Shall we party?” Peyton asks, looping her arm through mine. Our eyes meet and I frown. “What is it?” she asks, noticing the paper.

“It’s from my father.”

“Are you going to read it?”

I shake my head. “Not now.”

The thought of him stealing the happiness from this day makes me angry. I shove the note into my pocket, and then pick Peyton up in my arms.

Aidan can’t pull me away from our friends and family quickly enough. That note from his father clearly bothered him, but I won’t force him to read it. I want this to be a happy day.

He carries me to the limo and shoves me inside, ignoring my shrieking in protest. He slams the door shut and a fierce flash of lust bursts in the depths of his rich, brown eyes as he comes for me. His hands are under my dress and working their way up before I even have a chance to stop him and his lips cover mine before I get the opportunity to verbally protest.

He kisses me like he’s never kissed me before, as if he needs me to breathe. His passion and intensity are hard to resist when my traitorous body begs me to allow him to continue. My silky lace panties are soaked and he knows he’s got me when he dips his fingers under the fabric. He groans, panting into my mouth about how I’m always so ready for him.

As the limo pulls away from the curb, I move my head to the side to break the kiss, panting about how I need a minute.

“No way. I’ve been hard since I first laid eyes on you in this dress.”

My cheeks burn with embarrassment, but my pussy heats with desire. Still we’re in a limo with a driver, who may or may not be able to see through the glass. His lips continue kissing along my jaw and my neck as two of his fingers push inside, stretching me. A moan leaves my lips and I feel him smile against my skin. Bastard.

“You know the consummating traditionally happens after the reception, in private.”

He groans pushing his fingers deeper. I whimper in agony as the pressure intensifies. “Fuck tradition,” he growls, withdrawing his fingers. When he puts them in his mouth and sucks my desire from them, I’m no longer able to deny him.

Who cares about the driver? He’s probably seen his fair share of X-rated peep shows. An instant later, my panties are gone and my husband is deep inside of me.

My husband.

I’m still weak in the knees when we make our way up the steps to the front door of the reception hall. If I’d known married sex was so mind-blowing, I would have forced Peyton to elope the day after I asked her to be my wife.

She takes a moment to straighten her dress, and I wipe a streak of mascara from her cheek before opening the door. We’re greeted by our friends and family as well as a sour look from Barbara. Apparently we were supposed to arrive with the rest of the wedding party. If I didn’t think Peyton would deny me married sex, I’d fill her mom in on what held us up.

We take a seat at our designated bride and groom spots at the wedding party table. I laugh as we spot the glasses of water at the same time. Married sex makes you thirsty. We drain the glasses before dinner is served. After dinner, we cut cake and apparently, I’m the only one who didn’t expect Peyton to mush it against my face.

After a few dances, where I keep her all to myself, she’s called away for a dance with Rodrigo.

Tags: K.J. Bell Irreparable Romance
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