Clearing my throat, I loosen my tie a little. “Thanks. I'm surprised you're still shorter than me with those heels.” Looking down, I point at her feet.
“Being five foot two, I need all the height I can get.” Picking up one foot, she jiggles her heel. “These are actually shorter than the ones I usually wear.”
There's a small dragonfly tattoo on her ankle . She notices me looking and laughs. “Ignore the terrible tattoo. It's the result of a drunken night and poor decision making. One day I'll get it covered up with something better. It sucks, and I hate that I didn't pick a spot I can keep covered up more.”
I think it's cute. It's sexy even. The image sits right above her ankle. The color is slightly faded, and the black outline is fuzzy from bleeding into the skin.
“It's not that bad.”
“Are you kidding me? It's terrible and always visible.”
“Why? You wear heels a lot?”
“All the time,” she says with a sexy little grin. “I don't leave home without them.” Winking, she bats her lashes.
Her calf muscle pops and instantly all I can think about is her in just those heels with her legs up behind her head. I can see it so vividly. Me peeling that dress off her body and letting it drop to the floor. I'd run my tongue up her leg, over her thigh, and around her naval. I want to taste her skin, feel how smooth and soft she is.
My cock throbs, causing me to shift on my feet as I try to gain control of myself. But I can't stop picturing it. Holding her leg by the ankle and slipping between her thighs, spreading her wide open. Wondering what she'll sound like when she moans as I pleasure her body.
Would she be loud? Scream for more?
Would she be quiet? Beg me with just her body?
Either way, I really wouldn't care as long as she keeps those heels on.
“You better not let me fall,” she says, pulling me out of my fantasy.
“What?” I ask, my voice as distant as the thoughts in my head.
“You better not let me fall when we walk down that aisle,” she says again, pointing toward the garden and the white runner leading to the altar.
“Don't worry, if your spikes try to bring you down, I'll catch you.”
“Good, because if you don't, everyone will remember you as the groomsman who couldn't handle his bridesmaid.” She gives me a flirty grin, flashing her big blue eyes.
Fuck those eyes. Brilliant blue, sparkling like the ocean under the sun. Silver and deep blue speckles flicker like tiny lights. So clear, so large, ablaze with the reflections around us. I can see the sky, the clouds, and my towering figure in her stare.
“I can handle anything.” Holding out my arm for her, she hooks her arm in mine. “The bigger question is can you handle me?”
Sia looks up, curling her fingers tightly around my arm. “I'm from New York City. Do I need to say more?”
I like this girl.
I'm not looking for a wife, but maybe I can make her mine for the night. I'd love to feel those heels wrap my sides and her nails raking my back. . .
Focus! This is your best friend's wedding, not a damn pick-up bar.
We're standing at the top of the aisle. She's looking down at the altar, her smile excited and broad for her friend. As much as I know I should be keeping my head straight, I can't stop looking at her. I've never been so mesmerized by a woman before.
Her long brown hair falls in luscious curls. Half of it is pulled back, and there are loose strands dancing around her face in the light breeze. Small goosebumps ripple across her skin, tempting me to wrap her in my arms and warm her up.
The music starts, signaling the wedding is beginning and it's time for us to make our entrance. Her fingers dig into my forearm as we step forward, so I cup her hand, taking advantage of this moment.
“Better not let me fall,” she says again out of the corner of her mouth jokingly.
“I never would.” My voice is firm and serious.
If she stumbles, I'll lift her up. She falls, I'll catch her. In that moment, something inside me flips on like a switch. As if it's my responsibility to make sure nothing happens to her. I'll protect her. I'll keep her safe. I'll hold her tight.
We walk slowly down the aisle, arms locked together. She's holding onto me as if I'm the only thing keeping her on the ground, and she'll float away if she lets go.
When we reach the end, we're supposed to break away, but I don't want to let her go. I'm reluctant, holding onto her for as long as I possibly can.