Pamela Stone - Last Resort - Marriage

“Incredible legs,” he whispered, placing her foot back on the floor and glancing up into her face.

She diverted her eyes, refusing to react. Yet, her traitorous body responded too readily. Her stomach fluttered and she felt flushed and jittery. The imprint of his hands still seared her leg. Damn Aaron Brody!

Was she drunk? Charlotte brushed sticky tendrils of hair off her neck as she and Aaron wound their way to her clapboard bungalow. Her eyes refused to focus. She had consumed more alcohol tonight than during her entire college tenure.

It was past 2:00 a.m. but that didn’t stop Edward and Perry from chaperoning them to the door.

She didn’t miss the folded check Edward discreetly pressed into Aaron’s palm as they shook hands. “Just a little wedding present.”

Aaron unfolded the check and glanced down. His lips tightened and he shoved it back into her grandfather’s hand. “I can’t accept this.”

“You’re family now. There’s no reason you shouldn’t accept it.”

Aaron’s jaw muscle ticked. “But—”

“Good night.” Edward slid the check into Aaron’s jacket pocket and stepped back.

Perry shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks and rocked on his heels. “Well, Brody, I should say congratulations. Charlotte’s made her choice, better man and all that.” The veiled threat in his eyes wasn’t lost on Charlotte.

“No problem, Percy.” Aaron scooped Charlotte into his arms, opened his mouth over hers, and sucked every ounce of air from her lungs. All she could breathe was Aaron. He broke the kiss and squeezed her bottom. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, it’s our honeymoon.”

With that, he swung her through the door and kicked it shut behind them, leaving Edward and Perry on the porch. But Aaron was still fondling her derriere.

She squirmed. “Show’s over. You can put me down.”

He released her, sliding her body down the length of his and running his hands along her sides. Stopping at her breasts, he growled low in his throat and moved his hands to the front, rubbing his thumbs over her nipples.

A raw ache shot from her breasts to the juncture of her thighs. Embarrassed by her body’s betrayal, she knocked his hands away. “Don’t do that!”

He chuckled and turned to lock the door. “The flesh is willing, but the spirit’s weak,” he misquoted under his breath.

There was only enough light in the room to make out his smug smile, but she itched to slap it off his face.

His hand covered hers as she reached for the light switch. “No lights, sweetheart.”

This sweetheart thing was wearing thin. “So I should just stand here in the dark and let you fondle me?”

“They’re going to watch this place like vultures the next few minutes. If we turn on lights they’ll know which room we’re in.”

His nonromantic, logic-based request chafed. “Well, we should close the shutters then, shouldn’t we?” She turned toward the nearest window and flipped the slats down. The inky darkness engulfed them like an intoxicating cloud.

She heard Aaron’s erratic breathing behind her as his hands tugged at her loose chignon. The pins pinged as they landed on the hardwood floor.

He plunged his fingers into her hair and murmured, “I knew it would be long and silky.”

Fighting for control, she tugged her hair out of his grasp and stepped around him. “I’ll get linens for the sofa.”

Aaron caught her arm to slow her down and fingered the flowers that miraculously still clung to the tendrils of hair around her face. “You look stunning tonight.” He began a slow seduction of her mouth, angling her head to penetrate deeper and rubbing his rock-hard length against her stomach.

Her head tilted into his palm, but her eyes remained open, leery, watching him. He tasted of champagne and wedding cake, a heady combination.

Long-dormant impulses caught fire, but she fought to maintain her decorum as his lips enticed hers to participate in his seductive game. The tip of his tongue tickled the inside of her top lip. She closed her eyes and reveled in the sensation. Aaron Brody knew how to kiss. Plenty of practice, from all accounts.

This was nuts. After Perry’s betrayal, she’d promised herself never to allow anyone to use her again. Aaron had married her for one purpose—money. He wasn’t even attracted to her.

She squeezed her arms between them and pushed, fighting his weight and will. “We agreed. No sex.”

He grabbed her hand and placed it on his hard shaft, pushing into her palm. “I never agreed to no sex. That was your idea.” He nibbled his way down her neck.

Charlotte shivered as he pulsed beneath her palm. It had been so long. And if she dared to be honest with herself, she’d thought about Aaron Brody’s toned body quite often over the past three years. But she knew little or nothing about this man. And what she did know, she wasn’t sure she even liked.

She snatched her hand away. “Aaron.”

“Shh,” he whispered, planting a trail of feverish, wet kisses across her shoulder. “It’s our wedding night, Charlie.”

His body was paradise, hard and ready to fulfill the fantasies he’d fueled that first day she’d seen him working on his boat in nothing but those stupid shorts.

Charlotte took a step back, but Aaron countered with one forward, dragging the back of his rough knuckles across her cheek in a feather-soft caress.

He took another step forward and she backed away. His palm turned and cradled her cheek as his tongue mated with hers, kissing her deep and hard, warm and wet, promising exquisite ecstasy.

What was she doing? She must be drunker than he was. It was dangerous to even think these thoughts. Husband or not, she hardly knew him. Yet with a few practiced kisses and gropes, he’d managed to turn her brain to mush. Forcing her legs to move, she took another step back from his sexual heat, but her back hit the wall.

Aaron leaned in, captured her right breast, and deepened the kiss. In pure panic, she ducked under his arm and wriggled free.

He groaned, resting his forehead against the wall. “Charlie.”

The room was too dark to read his expression as he pushed off the wall and turned toward her, but it didn’t take a genius to read his mind.

“I’m not doing this.” She stepped into the bathroom, closed the door, and leaned against its protective barrier.

She’d take bets that in high school Aaron Brody had been every father’s nightmare.

Flipping on the light, she reached behind her neck and unclasped her grandmother’s pearls. Staring at her reflection, she wondered how she’d compare to his host of lovers. Too skinny? Too flat? Too brainy? She’d heard it all. Then, in college, when she’d finally trusted Perry and opened her heart to him, he’d betrayed her. He’d had sex with some brainless bimbo and they’d laughed at her.

But Aaron hadn’t laughed, a small voice whispered. Yeah, but he was too drunk to care, her practical side countered.

Easing the door open, she followed a trail of clothes and found Aaron lying across the bed flat on his stomach, illuminated by stripes of moonlight filtering through the bedroom shutters. Stunned by his nakedness, all she could do was stare wide-eyed at the exquisite specimen of raw masculinity in her bed.

Lord have mercy, his body was perfect. His arms raised above his head emphasized the muscled physique of a man who daily earned his living swimming and hauling heavy scuba gear. Muscled back, narrow hips, tight little butt.

Her breath caught. The events of the past two days were surreal. She hadn’t set out to marry Aaron Brody, it had just sort of happened.

Burrowing deeper into her thick terry-cloth robe, she forced herself to approach the bed. “Aaron,” she whispered. “What have we done?”