I pushed a hand into her hair and she knocked it away, gripping the fabric of my shirt instead to pull me down, kissing me too hard and for too long and with way more tongue than was appropriate considering where we were. A fact I’d only become aware of as the sound of catcalls and horrified apologies began to float around us.

“Oh, my,” I heard someone say.

“I think . . . I think they’ve had a lot of stress in the past few weeks,” my mother murmured.

“Jesus this is awkward,” said someone else.

“Are they just going to have sex right here or . . . ?” That one was definitely George.

“Who called today?” Henry asked. “Will? Was it you?”

By now, Chloe had wrestled me down to the ground and was starting to climb onto my lap.

“Okay!” My father’s voice cut through and I straightened onto one knee, trying to disentangle my hands from Chloe’s hair and hers from my belt. “I think we’re good here. Kristin? The cars should be out front; it’s time for the rehearsal dinner. Let’s go, everyone!”

Chapter Five

I felt like my skin was going to ignite. Bennett sat beside me in the car, scrolling through emails on his phone, as calm as he’d ever been in his life. After the rehearsal exploded into chaos and dry humping at the altar, I’d gone upstairs to change, splash some water on my face, and take a few minutes to collect my sanity. But once I was back beside him, I wanted to find something else to yell at him about. I wanted to get into another huge, knock-down, drag-out fight. Unfortunately for us, fighting meant sex and we’d both agreed to the stupid fucking abstinence rule.

Instead, we sat in heavy silence, the memory of the disastrous rehearsal sitting between us like a thick fog.

He cleared his throat and without looking at me, asked, “Did you bring your pills?”

I looked over at him and smacked his hand holding the phone. He slid it back in his pocket, chastised.

“What did you just ask me?”

“Your birth control pills,” he clarified. “Did. You. Bring. Them.”

I turned in my seat to face him, fire and ice sliding into my arteries and pumping into every part of my body. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?”

“I’ve been taking the pill for ten years without your help, traveling almost half of every week for the past year and a half, and managing to pack them for every goddamn trip without the Bennett Ryan Checklist, and you think you need to verify on how responsible I’m being now?”

He blinked away, pulling his phone back out of his pocket. “A simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ would have sufficed.”

“How does a ‘fuck off’ sound?”

Turning his head to me, he said very quietly, “It sounds like you might be playing with fire, Miss Mills.”

Heat slid down my torso and up my thighs, meeting at the juncture between my legs as I realized he was intentionally provoking me. No matter how calm he looked, he was just as worked up as I’d been. I shifted in my seat, hissing, “Controlling ass.”

“Temperamental bitch.”

I leaned in, punctuating each word with a jab of my index fingertip to his chest. “You. Imperious. Overbearing. Tyrannical. Prick.”

My back hit the floor of the limo hard enough for my breath to escape in a gust, and Bennett’s weight was on me fully, his cock pressing into the neglected space between my legs. Shoving my skirt up my hips, he rocked up against me hard, his mouth covering mine and forcing my lips apart so he could run his tongue inside and across my teeth. I felt more than heard his groan, the sound vibrating along my tongue and down my throat; my mouth, my hands, my pussy felt the emptiness acutely. I wanted him everywhere.

I arched into him, pulling his hair so hard he grunted in pain and with one hand grabbed my wrist, pinning my arm above my head, while reaching between us with the other.

It took two vicious tugs for him to tear my panties off—after all, why wear the skimpy, flimsy ones when I didn’t expect him to touch me in southern regions anyway?—and then he was pulling down his fly, freeing his cock, and positioning himself against me.

“Please,” I begged, struggling a little for him to release my hand just so I could put both of my hands on his ass and drive the sex from below.

“Please fuck you?” he asked, sucking at my jaw, my neck. “Please make you come?”

“Yes.”

His lips moved over my neck, sucking, tasting. “You don’t deserve it right now. I just want to . . .” He looked down at me, nostrils flaring. “I want to—”

“And the couple of the evening has arrived!” I heard a muffled voice say out of nowhere.

We didn’t even know we’d been stopped at the curb until the door to the limo flew open and Max stood, smiling down at us before his face fell in horror and he slammed the door shut again. Outside on the curb, I heard him proclaim, “Looks like the happy couple just need a moment to finish a conversation!”

Bennett scrambled off me, shoving himself back into his pants, tucking in his shirt and glaring at me. I sat up, pushing my skirt back down and grabbing the shredded tatters of my underwear.

With a pissed-off growl, I threw them at him. “Seriously Bennett? Can’t you keep the fetish in check for one fucking night?”

He shook his head, retrieving them from where they’d landed on the seat before tucking them into the inside pocket of his jacket.

I took a minute to check my hair and makeup in my compact mirror while Bennett bent over, elbows on his knees, and tugged at his hair. “Fuck!” he shouted.

“It’s your stupid fucking rule.”

“It’s a good rule.”

“I thought so, too,” I grumbled. “Now I’m not so sure. You’ve reduced us both to cavemen.”

Almost in unison, we took several deep, measured breaths. I leaned to the door, looking back at Bennett with my fingers poised on the handle. “Ready?” I asked.

He let go of his hair and turned to look at me. He studied my hair, my face. He let his eyes drop to my breasts, my legs, before moving back to meet my eyes.

“Almost.” He slid closer, framed my face in his hands before covering my mouth with his. He pulled my lower lip into his mouth, sucking. Never closing his eyes, he looked straight at me, gaze turning from hard and cold to warm, adoring. Releasing my lip, he repeated, “Almost,” and then kissed down my chin, my neck, and back up to give me one more, lingering kiss on the mouth.

He was apologizing for being an ass. My apology was letting him do it.

The Bali Hai restaurant was miles away from the Hotel Del on Coronado, but it was one of Bennett’s favorite places in San Diego. Located on the northernmost tip of Shelter Island, the restaurant boasted an amazing view of the entire harbor as well as much of Coronado. The building, which was reminiscent of the Pacific Rim–Polynesian style tiki décor, was two levels, with a famous restaurant upstairs and the large, private event room on the ocean level.

I stepped out of the limo to the now-empty curb (apparently Max had decided it was better that the guests greet us inside instead) and burst into a giddy smile. Although I’d seen photos and had heard all about the restaurant’s well-executed menu and world-famous mai tais, I hadn’t seen the site yet; Bennett had wanted to organize this dinner for me, much as I’d organized the honeymoon. We’d rented out the entire first floor, and already the party spilled out onto the deck outside. A bar was set up overlooking the water, and another bartender was busy mixing drinks inside. Waiters carrying appetizers walked among the crowd, and every member of our wedding party and family was here for this dinner before the big day. As we stepped deeper into the room, all of our guests turned to cheer.

It was sweet . . . these people were all family and our closest friends, but at my side, Bennett smiled stiffly, thanking everyone. I couldn’t exactly blame him for feeling the heavy awkwardness. Who knew how many of these people had just caught a glimpse of Bennett over me, pinning my arm to the floor of the limo, about to ram his cock into me?

At least all of the guests tonight were family or wedding party. They were contractually obligated to pretend like they’d never seen a thing.