What would it be like, to have Perry actually touch me? His hands everywhere. His mouth…everywhere.
I would come completely undone. I know I would.
From the beginning, I told myself I didn’t like him. I would never like him. But if he continues to listen to me, to give me gifts, to touch me like he is at this very moment…
I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to resist.
Chapter Twenty-One
Perry
I’m in a hell of a predicament, one I didn’t believe I’d be in so quickly.
I really want to fuck my future wife.
Dying to fuck her actually.
Giving her those earrings, watching her reaction was like a gift to myself. She was so damn happy, practically wiggling in her seat when she popped the lid off the box and saw what was inside.
Wait until she sees the matching necklace. I’ve arranged to have it delivered to her hotel room tomorrow morning while she gets ready, and now, I regret my plan. I’d rather see her face when she opens the box. All that pure joy sparkling in her eyes, aimed right at me…
Been sitting here with a semi ever since.
I scrub a hand across my tense jaw, listening to Lucian Morelli rattle on about how much he hates my brother. The fact that he’s even at my wedding rehearsal dinner tonight is outrageous enough—but this is what happens when your sister falls for our family’s mortal enemy.
You end up somehow inviting said mortal enemy to your most intimate family affairs.
The fact that he’s also complaining about my brother doesn’t help matters. And I’m pretty much fucking done listening to him.
“Been great talking to you, Lucian, but I’ve got to go,” I tell him. “The future wife here wants to show me her hotel room.”
Charlotte actually leans over, her breasts brushing against my arm as she smiles politely at my brother-in-law, playing along with my lie. “I don’t mean to take him from you, but…”
“By all means, go,” Lucian urges gruffly, his dark eyes sparkling with amusement. “A little pre-wedding sex always calms the nerves.”
I don’t bother acknowledging Lucian’s sex statement and neither does Charlotte. Instead, we do our best to make our escape, stopping to talk to the few people who remain in the private room, including my mother.
“Already leaving?” she asks.
I nod, settling my hand at the small of Charlotte’s back. “We have to get to bed. We have a big day tomorrow.”
The words bed and Charlotte conjure up all sorts of images in my brain. Every single one of them including raw, dirty fucking.
Probably shouldn’t want to defile my almost-wife, but damn. She’s fucking irresistible tonight.
“Indeed you do,” Mother murmurs, her gaze tracking my every movement. As if she knows I’m up to no good. “Good night, you two. Pleasant dreams.”
She hugs me and Charlotte and then, finally, we’re out of there.
“You don’t like your brother-in-law, do you,” she says to me once we’re completely out of the restaurant and walking in the corridor toward the front lobby.
“I don’t like anyone with the last name Morelli, or anyone related to them,” I mutter, shaking my head.
“Bad blood between your families?”
“The worst.”
“He was familiar to me.”
Irritation fills me. “Who? Lucian?”
She nods. “I don’t think I’ve met him before, but maybe I have? I’m not sure. He definitely reminds me of someone.”
“There are Morellis crawling all over this city. I’m sure you’ve come across one or two.”
Charlotte actually giggles, and I wonder how much wine she’s had. If she’s too drunk, there’s no way I’m making a move on her tonight. I want her to remember it. And I’m not about to take advantage of a drunk woman.
“Are you drunk?”
“No. Maybe a little buzzed,” she admits, biting her lower lip.
I look away from her. The lip-biting thing is sexy as fuck, and I don’t think she realizes it. “Why did you giggle, then?”
“The way you said it. Morellis. As if they’re your mortal enemies,” she admits.
I need to get over myself. I’m on edge. Stressed out over the wedding. Stressed about the responsibilities that come with marriage.
The future Mrs. Constantine is walking by my side with my ring on her finger and my great-grandmother’s earrings in her ears, yet I have no idea what she looks like naked, or what her pussy tastes like. What sounds does she make when she comes?
Have no fucking clue.
Going to rectify that tonight, if she’ll let me. Maybe that’ll ease some of my stress.
“The Morellis are our mortal enemies.” I shake my head, shaking all thoughts of Morellis out of it. “I don’t want to talk about them. I’d rather you show me your hotel room.”
She comes to a stop in the middle of the corridor, giving me no choice but to do the same. “I thought you just said that to get out of your conversation.”
Originally I did. “I won’t stay too long.”
Or I’ll stay all night. Whatever she’s in the mood for.
“I haven’t even seen the room,” she admits. “I had my stuff sent up there and was given a key by Miranda when I arrived.”
“Where’s your wedding dress?”
“In one of the bedrooms. There are three,” she admits. “All of the dresses are already there. Your mother’s, your sister’s. My mother’s as well. We’re getting ready together tomorrow.”
That sounds like my worst nightmare. “Then take me up. Show me your room.”
Charlotte contemplates me, her tongue darting out to touch the corner of her mouth. A groan almost leaves me at seeing it. Fuck, this woman. Everything she does tonight is like pure sexual torture. “You really want to see the hotel room?”
No, I want to see what you look like beneath that wet dream of a dress.
“You’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all,” she continues.
But I haven’t seen you. And I’m dying to.
Dying.
To.
I don’t say any of those words out loud. Instead, I nod, taking her elbow and steering her toward the bank of elevators that are nearby. “What floor are you on?”
“The top one.”
Of course. Nothing less for a Lancaster.
“Let’s check out the view, then.”
We enter the empty elevator car and I push the PH button, settling back to lean against the wall. Charlotte stands right next to me, her head tilted back to watch the numbers light up as we climb higher.
I blatantly study her profile, not caring if she catches me. The elegant lines of her face. Her pink, glossy lips. Her thick, dark eyelashes. Smooth, creamy skin.
I wonder if she’s that smooth and creamy everywhere.
The elevator comes to a stop and the doors slide open, Charlotte exiting first. I follow after her, my gaze stuck on her ass and the way it moves beneath the skirt as she walks. Fuck, those sexy legs of hers, the nude stilettos on her feet.
My brain comes up with a fantasy. Charlotte sprawled across the hotel bed, naked save for the shoes and the earrings. Hard nipples begging for my mouth. Soaked pussy dying for my fingers…