Eloise dropped her gaze, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. Then she met my gaze, her cheeks flushed.
Did she see how perfect we were together? Did she realize that it didn’t matter if I wore a ring? If she had my last name?
Eloise Eden was mine.
And I was hers.
Until the end.
Her makeup was flawless. But since she looked as beautiful with it as she did without, I crushed my lips to hers, my tongue delving inside as I moved. Faster and faster I pistoned my hips. When her thigh muscles trembled, I eased her leg down, letting it dangle off the counter like the other.
Then I gripped her by the hips, holding her tight, as the sound of our sex echoed off the bathroom walls.
Eloise tore her mouth away, panting for breath. Her hands fumbled with the hem of my tux shirt, hauling it up high enough so she could drag her palms up my abs. Then she slid her hands around my back, dipping them lower until she had my ass in her grip.
Her nails dug into my flesh, her fingertips pressing hard into my muscles. The bite only spurred me on.
“I love how you fuck me.” She clawed her nails harder.
“You’d better love it.” As far as I was concerned, my cock was the only one she’d be getting from here on out.
Her inner walls began to pulse, her limbs shaking. Her grip on my ass never let up, so neither did I.
This woman got everything I had—heart, body and soul.
“Jas.” She held me tighter.
“Come, El.”
That was all it took. One command and she shattered.
On a roar, I followed her over the edge, lost in this woman.
Lost in what we might become.
If she’d have me.
As the climax faded, we leaned on each other, our skin sticky where we were still connected, our breaths mingled as our hearts raced. Until slowly we pulled apart. I tucked myself into my boxers and ran a cloth under warm water to clean Eloise.
“You don’t need to do that,” she whispered.
“Let me do it anyway.” I kissed her cheek.
She twisted, taking in her face in the mirror. A giggle burst from her lips. “I look like I was just thoroughly fucked.”
I met her gaze in the glass.
This was my chance. A chance to tell her I wanted more. To stay in Montana. To see if we could make this fake marriage into something real. But the words clogged in my throat.
It would be better to wait until we were home, right? To talk about this after the wedding when we were home at the A-frame?
“Want to skip the rest of the party?” I asked.
“No way. I want more champagne, and those snacks they were carrying around looked yummy.”
I took her hand, helping her off the counter. Returning to that wedding was the last place on earth I wanted to be, but if she wanted a snack, I’d be her escort. “Then let’s get you some food.”
“And cake,” she said, smoothing down her dress. “I didn’t get cake. I need to test it and make sure it’s not as good as Lyla’s. Do you eat cake?”
“Sometimes.” I nuzzled my nose against her throat, drawing in that perfect scent. “But I’m going to eat something else for dessert later.”
My wife.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
ELOISE
“You’re a good dancer,” I told Jasper as he led me around the floor. “We should dance more. Do you know the two-step? Or the jitterbug?”
“No,” he said, twirling us in a circle.
“Oh. Want to learn? I just know the girl part, but Griffin or Knox or Mateo could teach you. They’re all good dancers. We could all go dancing at Willie’s one night.”
Jasper spun us again, his low hum the only acknowledgment of my idea.
“Was that a yes?”
He chuckled.
“I’m taking that as a yes.” I smiled, following his footsteps.
His cheek was pressed against my temple. One hand held mine while the other cupped my ass, unabashedly feeling me up. Jasper’s grip was a not-so-subtle reminder of the claw marks I’d left on his own delicious behind.
From the moment we’d returned to the wedding reception, there’d been a bubble around us. Jasper and I had been in our own world, ignored by the other guests. Ignoring the other guests.
We’d found fresh flutes of champagne. We’d raided the food trays, sampling the post-dinner fare. And even Jasper had indulged in the cake—definitely not as good as Lyla’s—before he’d swept me onto the dance floor.
I’d been in his arms ever since. My head was perfectly buzzed from the champagne. I was still riding the high from sex upstairs earlier. My limbs felt loose. And even though his icky parents and his infuriatingly beautiful ex-wife were in the room, somehow, I’d managed to block them out.
No one had better try to pop my happy bubble.
“Where did you learn to dance?” I asked.
“High school. One year of ballroom dancing was required to graduate.”
I’d peppered him with questions all night. If my time with him was running out, I wanted to know everything and anything.
Jasper had indulged me, sharing without hesitation. Maybe the champagne had gone to his head too.
“Did you like your high school?”
He shook his head. “Not especially.”
“I loved mine,” I said. “For the most part. It’s not like there wasn’t the normal girl drama and whatever, but I always liked that it was the school where my brothers and sisters had gone. And it was the school where my parents went too.”
“A legacy.”
“Yeah.” That seemed like too fancy a word for Quincy High. “I like dancing with you.”
He turned his cheek, pressing his lips to my temple, then kept moving us around the floor.
“Do you like Montana?”
“This winter was fucking cold. But otherwise, yeah.”
“Too many years in the desert?” I teased.
“Probably.”
“You just need warmer clothes.” If he’d stay, I’d find him the best winter wardrobe around. “Favorite part about Quincy? And you can’t say Foster because I already know he’s your favorite. And you can’t say sex with me every night either because obviously that’s amazing. You have to pick a favorite thing or a place or something like that.”
Jasper opened his mouth. “The—”
“And you can’t say the A-frame.”
He stopped dancing. “Do you want to just tell me what my favorite is then?”
“The Eloise Inn?”
Jasper chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s your favorite.”
“I’ll share it. You have to admit it’s pretty fantastic.”
“It’s pretty fantastic.”
“See? I knew it was your favorite.”
He flashed me those straight, white teeth as his eyes crinkled at the sides.
“You’re so handsome when you smile.” I traced my finger across his bottom lip. “I like it when you smile.”
“I like it when you smile too.” He resumed our dance, matching our steps to the beat of the band’s slow melody. “Next question?”
“How did you know I was going to ask another question?”
“Your name is Eloise Eden.”
I giggled. “How many times have you been to Italy?”