Sinners at the Altar (Page 78)

Sed’s tongue brushed her upper lip, and she parted her lips, drawing him deeper. If his strong arm hadn’t been wrapped around her lower back to press her firmly against his belly, she’d have collapsed at his feet.

He drew away after a long moment and stared down into her eyes, raindrops clinging to his spiky lashes and tracing rapid courses down his strong jaw. The wind had calmed and the rain fell steadily, but it no longer fell in a torrential downpour.

“You’re so beautiful,” Sed told her, fingers stroking the sopping tangle of her hair. Hair that had been a gorgeous mass of loose curls moments before, but was now wet and limp. She could only assume that her mascara was making her do her best impression of Alice Cooper.

“If you say so.” She grinned up at him and touched his face. “Why didn’t you tell me how sexy you are in a soaking-wet tuxedo?”

“I didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

“So you ordered this rain?” she asked, her eyes flipping skyward.

He leaned close and whispered in her ear, “No, but I think God was afraid if I got too overheated I’d have fucked you right here in front of all our guests.”

“I didn’t realize a little rain could effectively cool your ardor.”

“The effect was short-lived.”

“I’m sorry I was late,” she said, wrapping her arms around his waist and nuzzling into his wet chest. “My mother wanted us to wait for Johnny Depp.”

Sed burst out laughing, the sound rich and deep against her ear as it rumbled through his broad chest. “For a minute, I thought you’d changed your mind. That you finally realized you didn’t want to marry me.”

She reached up and cupped his face in her hands, staring intently into his eyes. “Never. Who in their right mind would go through all this wedding bullshit if they weren’t one hundred percent committed to loving their spouse for the rest of their life?”

“Not me,” he admitted with a chuckle. “I’m sorry rain ruined your perfect day.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” she said, “but we’re here and we’re married. That’s all that matters.”

“I do love you, Mrs. Lionheart.”

He claimed her mouth in another kiss. Her entire body trembled against him. Whether it was from the chill of the rain on her skin or the heat of lust swirling through her blood, she wasn’t sure.

Sloshing footsteps approached and the rain suddenly stopped directly overhead, replaced by the sound of drops against nylon. Sed tugged his mouth away and turned his head.

“Are you two going to stand out here in the rain all day?” Eric said, holding an umbrella over their heads.

“Not all day,” Sed said. “Just until I’ve had enough of kissing her.”

“So all day then,” Eric said with a knowing grin.

Sed chuckled. “Maybe.” His blue eyes lifted toward to the black fabric above them. “Bit late for the umbrella.”

“Jessica’s mother was wailing about ruined dresses, so I had no choice but to save her daughter’s poor garment.”

“It was mostly ruined by baby puke anyway,” Jessica said.

Sed’s fingers found the zipper at Jessica’s back and eased it down several inches. “She’s welcome to the dress. I just want the woman inside it.”

“Don’t you dare, Sed,” Jessica gasped and slapped a hand over the zipper at her back.

“Did she just dare me?” Sed asked Eric.

“I think she did.”

“Tell our guests we’ll see them at the reception.”

“Should I bring her dress to her mother?” Eric asked, winking at Jessica, who couldn’t seem to shut her wide-open mouth.

“That won’t be necessary,” Sed said with a rakish grin that displayed one dimple. “I’ll bring it to her myself.”

He eased her zipper down another inch, and Jessica backed out of his reach. “Sed!” she said in warning, both hands flying out before her.

He ducked his head slightly and ran his tongue along the ridge of his upper teeth, looking as hungry as any voracious predator. “Maybe you should run,” he said in a low growl.

Her breath came out in a startled gasp, and the tips of her breasts tautened. Her hardened nipples had nothing to do with the chill in the air and everything to do with the tone of Sed’s voice. Jessica pressed one hand against the bodice of her loosened gown and swept up the train in her other hand. She turned and headed for the waves of the deserted beach. She stumbled as the sand pulled at her kitten heels, so she kicked them off and sprinted as fast as she could move—wanting him to chase her. Wanting him to catch her. But not without some effort.

Cool water washed over her feet as she reached the surf. A hand brushed her arm, and she darted in the opposite direction, laughing breathlessly as she dodged his grip. Water splashed against her ankles and calves as she sprinted down the beach. She could hear his footfalls just behind her. This time when he caught her arm, she turned abruptly and collided with his chest.

His breath escaped in a startled huff. She dropped her train, not caring that the waves and sand were churning it into a puce-tinged mess, and pressed her palms against his chest. The bodice of her dress slipped low, scarcely covering the white leather of her corset. Still breathing hard from exertion, she looked up at him. Tiny stinging raindrops against her eyelids made her blink.

“Why does chasing you make my dick so hard?” he grumbled at her.

“Because it knows when you catch me, it’s in for a treat.”