“What…what are you doing?” Milly hisses, but I see the shine in her eyes, the nervous tilt of her shoulders, the way her tongue keeps tracing her bottom lip. She knows exactly what I’m doing, and exactly what I’d like to be doing while I’m down here.
Just a shame for us both that it’s going to have to wait.
The garter isn’t going to go over her thick black Doc. Marten’s, so I start unlacing the boot, moving tenderly, pulling at each lace to loosen the leather, then slipping it off her foot. I take her ankle in my hand, fishnet tights giving tantalizing glimpses of her flesh as I caress her foot, slipping the garter on, and then up. Her breaths are coming fast and a little raspy, like each one is a struggle. I can almost hear her heartbeat, can smell her scent...
Everything but us fades away. We are the only two people in the world right now, I look at her magical brown eyes, the gold flecks in her irises glittering, her pupils dilating as my fingers work up her leg.
In that moment, I already know…we’re going to be together, forever.
She’s mine and I’m hers. These are the first moments of the rest of our lives.
As a waiter comes to offer the bride and groom champagne, she reaches, blocks him with her arm and grabs a glass for herself on a smile.
The waiter nods, tossing Stacie an apologetic look. But if she’s going to embarrass Milly up here, I swear to God, I won’t hit my sister, but I will pick my sweet Starling up and carry her out of here and we won’t be back.
Luckily, Stacie stays silent, until Milly’s other hand darts out, grabbing a second glass of the bubbly giving me a shrug.
“When in Rome,” she says, and a moment later she’s downed the first as my hands disappear up beneath her black skirt, sliding the garter into place, feeling the warmth of her skin through her fishnets, making my mouth water.
“All right! Let’s hear it for Milly and Reid!”
There are cheers, Milly raises her other glass, then empties it in two swallows.
I push to my feet, grabbing her hand and pulling her up next to me as we face the crowd, taking a little bow.
Just a brother-in-law and sister-in-law, on their way to be husband and wife.
Then, I see the looks. The uncomfortable stares. The averting of eyes. I recognize it all.
The scars. It’s always the scars.
But right now, there is only one person whose approval I need.
I turn to Milly, but she’s intent at something in the crowd. I follow her eyes toward a group of women who are barely hiding the stares and pointing fingers.
My heart feels like it’s wrapped in barbed wire.
Does Milly see what they see? The mangled skin. The horror movie in the making.
I should say something, let her know it’s okay. I don’t know how I’ll survive, but I won’t keep her against her will, like some monster in a storybook. The rational part of me tries to convince myself if she wanted to go, I would let her.
But, deep down in my marrow, I know that’s a lie. Still, I offer civility, trying to play the part for the moment.
“Milly. It’s okay, if you can’t—”
“Little bitches,” she mutters, then without warning she turns my way.
In an instant, her hands are locked around my face, and she’s pulling me down. She’s so tiny, I have to bend in half to come face to face with her, but I don’t resist. I’ll never resist her. I’m born to serve where she’s concerned. Her every whim will be my mission.
Her little hands are on my face, fingers dancing on the flesh, and when her lips meet mine the world stops.
That kiss is everything. Stars and lightning, thunder and fireworks. It sets synapses firing in my brain that I’m sure never existed until now. It makes my dick thrust forward as I lift her into my arms, not caring what anyone else might think. I’m sure she feels what she’s doing to me, but I don’t care. This is what it’s all about, this is what I’m living for.
A burst of applause rises from the crowd.
I hear Stacie’s offended screech as we steal her limelight, telling Martin to pull his floozy of a daughter off her brother.
But a trailer winch couldn’t pull her out of my arms right now.
When we finally come up for air, all I see is her.
Milly’s lips pull up on one side. Then she turns back to the group of girls who are now staring, gape-mouthed, and sticks her tongue out, eliciting gasps and shocked laughter from the onlookers.
Maybe we are a spectacle, but I don’t give a shit. I’ll be a spectacle with Milly any day.
Every day.