Christina Lauren - Beautiful Beginning

She took a step toward me, and then another. “Do you remember the last time we were here?” she asked.

“I’m trying not to.”

She pressed a hand to my chest and easily pushed me farther into the back of the couch before straddling my lap. “You fucked me on the floor . . .” She leaned forward, kissed my jaw. “And the balcony”—she kissed my neck—“and the bed, and the floor and the bed and the floor.”

“And don’t forget the chair in the corner,” I mumbled, hissing in a breath as she scratched her nails over my stomach, reached for my tie, loose but still hanging from my neck.

“What if I said I wanted to re-create some of that?” she whispered into my ear. “What if I asked you to tie me up with this? Spank me? Fuck me in th—”

I yawned. Wide.

She jerked back and looked at me, taking in my slumped posture, the way I could barely keep my eyes open. Hers narrowed.

“What did you do?” she asked, suspicious.

I could only smile—a stupid, drowsy, lopsided grin. “Took out a little insurance policy,” I slurred. “You’re very pretty by the way, and I really do like this . . . thing you’re wearing and would like to request that you wear it for me again . . . someday.”

“What did you do, Ryan?” she repeated, louder, and stood up, hands on her hips as she frowned down at me.

“Just only took a tiny little sleeping pill,” I said, yawning as I pulled the small bottle from my pocket, holding it up to show her. “Teensy tiny.”

I had a prescription for these for international travel but had yet to use a single one before this. I was actually amazed how fast they worked, and slightly uneasy over the prospect of having no control over my state of arousal. Especially since Chloe looked like she might castrate me.

“You son of a bitch!” she yelled, pushing on my chest. It was sort of a counterproductive move, however, because I merely slumped over, sinking facedown into one of the cushions. She started to yell about . . . something, but I couldn’t quite make it out. I took comfort knowing someday she’d know I was really doing this for her.

The last thing I saw before my eyes closed was her storming out of the room, shouting something about payback.

Finally, Bennett: 1; Chloe: 0

He didn’t cave and bang the daylights out of me last night. In fact, he’d gone so far as to drug himself and be taken out of commission. Clearly it was time to up my game.

I’d spent much of dinner last night watching Bennett be adorably mischievous while steering my rascal aunts toward an unsuspecting Will. I’d watched him be jealous and irritated in equal measure when Bull regaled me with stories of the many cars he’d sold and women he’d banged. I’d watched Bennett with adoration as he greeted his family, waited until his mother’s food was in front of her before starting in on his own, thanked each waiter personally, and stood when I stood to go to the bathroom.

Bennett Ryan was a swoony fucking bastard, and tonight—stupid chastity rule or not—I was going to ride him like a horse.

I had a suitcase full of lingerie and outfits that were guaranteed to bring him to his knees. Most of the skimpy, lacy things had been reserved for the honeymoon, but I suspected at this point we wouldn’t have much need for any form of clothing once we hit the private resort in Fiji.

In a way it was nice to have a new mission. Instead of stressing about our families and the chaos we were diving into headlong, I could focus on the fact that Bennett really just needed to fuck me a few times a day. It was a simple goal, really. I couldn’t control the tides or the insanity of our families, but I could definitely control this man’s cock.

Will had named this evening the Final Night of Freedom. Even though it was Thursday and the wedding was Saturday, he declared that the rehearsal on Friday all but sealed Bennett’s fate as a married man, so he and Max had planned a night out for all of us in the Gaslamp Quarter. We were going to hit a few bars, have a few drinks. As Max put it, “Tonight we’re going to get right pissed and pretend Chloe didn’t hand each of us a to-do list five miles long.”

I’d ordered the guys to get ready in our suite and the women—Sara, Hanna, my childhood friend Julia, soon-to-be sister-in-law Mina, and I—were getting ready in Julia’s room. I did this in part to have some girl-time before we all went out together, but also so that Bennett wouldn’t see me until we got to the bar. If he saw what I was going to wear out tonight, he would tie me to the bed with one of my slips and change my clothes for me.

If I’d harbored any suspicion that he would tie me to the bed and fuck me, I’d be happily changing upstairs in the wedding suite alongside him. Alas. I knew Bennett, and I knew how determined he was once he made a decision about something. Tonight needed to be a sneak attack. I had to seduce my fiancé, and in order to do that, I had to play dirty.

Julia and Mina were both working on Hanna’s broken zipper, and I sat on Julia’s bed and carefully crisscrossed the long, strappy heels up my calf. Last night’s shoes had worked pretty well, but obviously not well enough. Tonight I’d put on a tiny black dress, dangly chandelier earrings, and the same shoes I’d worn the night I went out clubbing in San Diego when Bennett and I had been here together for the JT Miller Marketing Conference early in our “relationship”.

I tied the satin strap at the back of my calf and thought back to that night, and how Bennett had looked, almost two years ago now, when I’d walked into the hotel lobby of the W in the early hours of the morning to find him sitting on a couch, waiting for me.

His hair had been a disaster, and I knew without having to ask that he’d been pulling at it, nervously running his hands through it. In hindsight it was obvious we were in love even then, but I remembered how surprised I’d been when he admitted he needed another night with me. I wanted it more than anything, but I never expected him to ask for it so openly.

I’d followed him up to my room and in that bed we’d made love for hours, sharing words about real histories and real desires and real feelings. From there, our relationship climbed to a peak—I’d easily stepped up and covered with Bennett’s client when Bennett suddenly got sick, and when he recovered, we’d decided to be together, a couple, no more hiding.

“Chlo?” Sara asked, ducking to meet my eyes and pulling me out of my thoughts. “You okay?”

I bent and focused on the other shoe, nodding. “Yeah, just remembering what it was like when the BB and I were first together.”

She sat and put an arm around me. “Is it weird to be getting married here?”

Shrugging, I admitted, “A little. It’s bittersweet, you know?”

“When did you first know you loved him?”

I closed my eyes and leaned into her, humming as I considered the question. “I think I probably felt love for him before I knew I loved him. But, do you remember when we were here for the conference and he got food poisoning?”

Beside me, Sara nodded.

“Well, after I did the whole Gugliotti presentation and came back to tell Bennett how it went, I went back down to the conference for a little bit to walk around and let him rest. When I came back up to my room, Bennett was sitting on the couch. He always looks good, of course,” I said, laughing when Julia wiggled her eyebrows at me, “but he just looked like a guy right then. He was shirtless and his hair was messy in that bed-head, unintentional way. He was zoned out on the television with his hand tucked under the waistband of his boxers. And I had this epiphany that he was just a guy, and that he was sort of becoming my guy, you know?” Around me, my girlfriends all nodded. “I think those are the moments I love the most, when I look at him and see him as so much more than the Beautiful Bastard. In his BB moments he still feels sort of unattainable and intimidating even to me. Don’t get me wrong, I love that side of him. But when we’re alone he lets his guard down and I get to see all sides of him, and that day was the first time it really happened. I think that’s when I knew I loved him.”