Deceived 4 - The Wedding
Read Deceived 4 - The Wedding Online
Authors: Eve Carter
Deceived 4 – The Wedding
B
y
Eve Carter
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2014 Eve Carter.
Published By Eve Carter Romance.
If you would like to get notified
about sales and new book releases, be sure to sign up for my free newsletter:
http://bit.ly/evecarter-newsletter
Save the date!
Y
ou are hereby invited to the grandest wedding Manhattan has seen in years, courtesy of the groom’s father, the wealthy businessman Gerald Collins.
The ceremony starts at noon, so wear your most elegant dress and come witness
Chloe and Patrick say “I do.”
Everybody is already here and the rehearsal dinner is well underway. So far the groom’s divorced parents have managed to behave themselves and not get into one of their usual fights. In fact, everything
is going smoothly and according to plan.
B
ut…wait a minute…who is that attractive blonde woman making a bold entrance just now? She walks right up to the wedding party and demands to talk to the groom.
I can hardly believ
e it. She drops a bombshell of a secret that changes everything. A secret so big it threatens not only the wedding, but also the multi-million dollar advertising agency that Patrick and Ryan share in partnership.
What did Patrick do
this time?
You do not want to miss what happens next in Deceived 4 - The Wedding, a hot and spicy erotic romance that will have you on the edge of your seat.
Patrick
I
couldn’t breathe. My mouth and nose were pressed firmly against human flesh. I jerked back my head, gasping for air, but a hand behind my neck drove my face back into two very large and buoyant breasts, this time forcing a taut nipple into my mouth. She finally released her grip on me and I flopped back in the chair, sucking in a long breath. With a squeal she climbed off my lap, rose to her feet and struck an alluring pose in front of me. Long ribbons of curly dark hair cascaded down her arched back. She was naked except for a sliver of a red G-string that sat atop the rise of her hips and disappeared between the roundness of her plump ass. She wore tortuously high metallic silver heels that forced her chest to thrust forward unnaturally. But for the moment, I admired the beauty of her female form.
T
he heavy beat of the music pumped loudly. Her curvy body moved seductively to the rhythm and her hips started grinding it out. Turning her back to me, she tipped slightly forward and, with her hands on her hips, she hooked her thumbs under the string of the panties. The firm roundness of her naked butt cheeks rose and fell in my face as she slowly peeled the G-string down, down, down until it fell around her ankles. With the flip of her hair, she stepped out of it and turned around to face me with a “Do you like what you see?” expression on her face.
Before I could respond
, she leaned over me, teasing my face with her double Ds. She spread her legs and eased her body onto my lap again. Then with a rolling movement of her hips, she ground her bare mound on my crotch. My cock started to stir but I willed it down. I didn’t want to get hard. She cupped her breasts, pinching a nipple, teasing me, grazing it across my lips.
Fuck
. My pants got tighter and my cock grew harder as it strained against the fabric. I tried thinking about grandmothers and dead kittens to keep the rising pressure down, but her continuous movements made it “mission impossible.” The song ended and she finally relaxed. She leaned in, kissed my cheek and whispered into my ear, “You’re cute. If you want to party later, I’ll be in the bedroom over there.” She nodded her head towards a door to the left of the large living room area where we sat.
She
swung her legs off of me like she was dismounting a horse and scooped up her red lingerie as she walked away. My four friends stared at me with their mouths hanging open.
“
Take a picture, guys. It’ll last longer.” I shot them an “I’m gonna kill you” look. Bachelor parties are always a little too crazy, and this was no exception. I just wanted for it to be over. Ever since I met Chloe, I hadn’t desired any other women, and certainly not a bachelor party stripper. Bachelor parties and strippers are a lot more fun when you aren’t the one getting married.
“Ryan,
one of these days when you least expect it, I’m gonna get you back, buddy.”
“What? It’s just the usual tradition before getting married.” He walked over and handed me a
Scotch on the rocks with a friendly slap on the back.
“
Whatever, just don’t say a word about this to Chloe.”
“Don’t worry,
if it comes to it, I’ll vouch for you that you kept your hands off the girl the entire time. Now, your face on the other hand…I don’t know if I can vouch that you kept your face off of her.” Ryan gave me a mischievous smile.
Pete,
my young assistant who I’d hired less than a month ago, was still staring with his mouth open. “You can shut your mouth now, Pete. The show is over,” I said.
“
Sorry, boss, but I’m still in shock. That was the most incredible thing I have ever seen. You’re not going to tap that?”
I looked toward the bedroom door
the girl had disappeared behind. “No, I’m not going to ‘tap’ that. In a week I am getting married to the most beautiful and wonderful woman in the world. Chloe beats that girl hands down and I owe it not only to my future wife, but also myself,
not
to tap that, Pete.”
Aware of my annoyance, he swallowed hard and made a poor attempt to legitimize his remark.
“Sorry, Mr. Collins. It’s just…would you mind if I…you know…went back there?” Pete tilted his head toward the bedroom and pointed with his thumb like he was hitching a ride to town. “We all chipped in to pay for her.”
I
looked Pete up and down; no swagger there. He wasn’t exactly Casanova. Probably didn’t see much action either. I decided to throw him a bone.
“
If she agrees…knock yourself out.”
His face li
t up with a big smile. No sooner had he taken a couple of steps toward the bedroom when Ryan stopped him with a firm hand on his chest.
“
You better treat Trixie right. She’s an angel.” There was a stern expression on Ryan’s face that I had only seen a few times before.
“Absolutely, Mr. Barrick.
You g-got my word,” Pete stuttered.
“Good.” Ryan
stepped out of the way and Pete scurried toward the bedroom door, knocked and slipped inside.
I clapped Ryan on his back. “Wow, Rambo. I’m impressed.”
He chuckled. “I’ve known Trixie for a couple of years now. She is a tough cookie, but she has a rough life…a dirty job. It’s not an easy business she is in.”
I took another sip of my
Scotch and nodded. “Amen to that.”
Ryan pa
tted the pockets on the chest of his jacket and pulled out two nice looking cigars. “Got you something special, buddy. Let’s go out to the balcony. ”
I raised my eyebrows
. What a nice surprise. “I could go for one of those,” I said and followed him out through the sliding glass doors.
Ryan handed me
one of the cigars. “Don’t ask me where I got these. I was saving them for this very moment.”
“
Ah, Monte Cristo No. 4. A genuine Cuban cigar. I’m impressed.” I rolled it between my thumb and forefinger, examining its quality. “Where did you get these?”
He shook his head and chuckled. “I told you not to ask. Here, let me
…” As if he were a magician, a cigar cutter appeared in one hand and a matchbox in the other. With sharp snips, he cut off the tips of the cigars then struck a match. A small golden flame popped up to assist us with lighting the carefully handcrafted Cubans.
A sudden commotion and the
sharp sound of slamming of a door from inside the living room area caught our attention. Simultaneously, we snapped our heads in the direction of the noise.
“What the hell was that?” Ryan paused, holding his cigar in midair and leaned to look past the patio curtains for a better view.
“I don’t know. It looked like someone ran out of the bedroom and right out the front door.” I stepped to the threshold of the sliding glass doors. A couple other guys from the company were talking and drinking. I turned back to Ryan. “I think it was Pete.”
“Pete? He better not have…”
Ryan pushed past me into the party and was met by Trixie as she sauntered out of the bedroom. Now dressed in a short, tight black dress, she smoothed her hair and adjusted her clothing, like she had just put it back on.
Ryan rushed up to her.
“Trixie, are you okay? What happened? Where’s Pete?”
“Cool yo
ur jets, hon, the little dude’s gone. Said something about telling you guys he will meet you later at the party.”
“Did he hurt you? You weren’t in there very long.”
Ryan sounded concerned.
“No-
no.” She waved her hand in the air like she were waving away smoke. “Poor guy. He blew his load in his pants before he could even get it out...then took off running.”
“Damn,
destiny’s cruel,” I said with a chuckle.
Trixie smiled.
“What’re you gonna do? It always happens with the geeky ones. They spend too much time jacking off to online porn, and before you know it, the horse gets out of the gate too fast.”
We said our good nights to Trixie and Ryan called
a cab to pick her up at the entrance downstairs. The two of us returned to the patio to finish our Cubans. High up in the penthouse of a Manhattan apartment complex, I watched the smoke curl up into the night air against the backdrop of a starlit New York sky. Like the smoke that rose up from my cigar, I was filled with a confidence that everything in my life was on its way up too. I was about to marry my dream girl, Chloe Swanson. I was on the threshold of the best time of my life.
Chloe
“
A
re you sure I don’t look like a giant marshmallow?” I turned to face Elyse, furrowing my brow as I caught a glimpse of the elaborate puffy dress reflected in the three-way mirror I stood in front of.
She didn’t answer right away. Her mouth
gaped as she looked up from her notepad in awe. “Are you kidding me? You look stunning. That dress is gorgeous on you.”
I highly doubted that. I had thrown on my oldest jeans and tied my hair up in a ponytail as I ran out the door to meet Elyse for my last fitting. I
wore no makeup and tennis shoes. I didn’t feel beautiful standing here, even in this dress.
“Hold still,
miss,” the alterations woman sighed.
It was a
n expensive designer gown and so over the top, like everything else about the wedding - from the reception at the Plaza Fifth Avenue for over 200 guests to the honeymoon in Bali. All courtesy of Gerald Collins, Patrick’s dad. He had insisted that his wedding gift to us would be to host the most extravagant wedding that New York had seen in years. Everything was so remote from my dream wedding, which was to have a small ceremony on a beautiful tropical beach where our “I do’s” would be witnessed only by our closest friends and family. It was a dream I had kept to myself, although I was disappointed at first. I realized that this wasn’t just my wedding. When Gerald had expressed his idea to pay for the glamorous wedding, I could tell from the look on Patrick’s face that he wanted this. He wanted his dad to do something special for us. Gerald hadn’t always been there for Patrick over the years and I could see that his gesture pleased Patrick. For once, Patrick was proud of his dad. I couldn’t take that away from him.
I reached down and picked up the layers of fabric, practicing how I would hold up the hem to walk without tripping over its massiveness. I tipped my head to the side and examined my image in the mirror, watching the lights sparkle off the intricate bead work on the bodice.
“I suppose you’re right, Elyse. Every bride looks beautiful on her wedding day.” I let go of the dress and tugged at my hair, fussing with my ponytail. “My hair looks awful. I need my highlights redone. What am I gonna do? The wedding is only a week away.” I leaned in closer to the mirror the best I could without pulling away from the woman who was pinching and pinning the fabric. “And look. What’s this?” I sucked in a short breath and picked at the skin on my face. “A pimple? Is this a pimple? Oh God, I can’t have a pimple now,” I gasped, exasperated.
“
It’s not a pimple. You’re just getting all worked up. It’s understandable.” Her voice rose up in pitch. The excitement of it all was contagious. Elyse was, of course, going to be my maid of honor, as she was my best friend. “But even if it turns into a pimple, don’t worry. I have you scheduled to have your hair and makeup done by my friend, Kristy. She’s the best and she specializes in weddings. She’ll make you beautiful, pimple or no pimple, so don’t worry.”
I tried to hold still for the seamstress while I turned my head and talked over my shoulder to Elyse. “You know
, Elyse, if I hadn’t taken that entry level clerical job at Meyer and Meyer, our paths wouldn’t have crossed, our eyes wouldn’t have met and I wouldn’t be standing here in this stunning wedding dress. I’d just got my business degree. I was so naïve. I had visions of coming to New York and landing a really big job right away. I almost didn’t take the assistant job, I thought it was beneath me. But look at me now.”
Elyse
stopped jotting down notes and clasped her notebook to her chest, hugging it like she couldn’t contain herself. “Are you getting nervous? I am, and I’m not even the one getting married. Eeeee, this is so fantastic, Chloe... you and Patrick.”
Elyse was right.
Marrying Patrick was the most fantastic thing in my life. It didn’t matter about the wedding arrangements. All that mattered was that I was about to marry the one person who meant the most to me. I was about to marry my Patrick. If it made him happy to honor his father’s wishes, then I would be gracious and loving and give him whatever he wanted. I would go through any kind of pain for him. I would do anything for Patrick and he would do anything for me. He was my true love and now I was about to marry him. I couldn’t believe my lucky stars that I had found him. It felt so right being with him.
“Okay,
Miss Swanson. You can take off the dress, now. I have all the measurements,” the assistant said, standing up. She took a step back to admire the magnificent dress before taking me back to the dressing room.
~*~*~
I was late. The cab moved at a turtle’s pace toward Scalini’s restaurant. I pulled out my phone and glanced at the screen, finding two new messages from Patrick. He wondered what was keeping me.
“Almost there.
Sorry, Baby. Traffic is crazy.”
I punched out the message and pressed send.
I
was still two blocks away from the restaurant when the taxi slowed to a complete stop. This hour of the evening was definitely not the best time to get across Manhattan.
“
Excuse me, driver, just let me out here. I’ll walk the rest of the way.”
I paid him and escaped into the bustling street
. Working my way through arms and elbows with a typical fast paced New York City stride, I quickly covered the two remaining blocks. As I swung the door to Scalini’s open, I was greeted by Tony, the waiter I had gotten to know like a brother over the last two years.
“M
iss Swanson, right this way.” He stretched his right arm towards the dining hall and as I entered, I spotted Patrick at our usual table. My heart fluttered. He was dressed sharply, in a dark suit, and looked as handsome as ever. He still had that effect on me, the ability to make me feel like I was seeing him for the first time. He must have come straight from a meeting with a client. I bit my lip and considered myself to be the luckiest girl in the world. He caught my glance and his eyes lit up as I approached.
“There you are. I was starting to worry that you had ditched me,” he said with a chuckle as he leaned over the table and brushed his lips against my cheek.
“So sorry I’m late, baby. The fitting took forever and of course the traffic was backed up all the way from Times Square.” I slid into my chair.
“
No worries. I would wait days just to see your smile.”
“You’re such a schmoozer,
” I teased and waved my napkin at him as I unfolded it and placed it on my lap.
He
broke into a wide smile. “Let’s just eat.” He sat back in his chair and gave a two-fingered wave to Tony.
Minutes later
, as we were waiting for our food to arrive, Patrick lifted his glass and tipped it toward me. “Here’s to finding you, and true love.”
“True love,” I said and our glasses clinked.
He set his glass back on the cloth covered table and turned the conversation to more mundane topics. “So, how did the fitting go? I’m excited to see you in the dress.”
“
You can’t see me in it before the wedding, you know…bad luck. It’s a tradition…but I can tell you that it’s a beautiful gown, although a little over the top,” I said with a timid smile.
Patrick’s
brows furrowed and he leaned in with his elbows on the table. “You know, just because my dad insists on paying for the wedding it doesn’t mean you can’t have things exactly the way you want. After all, we’re the ones getting married. Not my dad.”
“No, no, it’s fine. I mean, the dress is beautiful and so is everything else about the wedding. It’s just…a little grand, that’s all.”
“Not quite what you expected when you said yes to my proposal?”
I
pursed my lips with satisfaction as I gazed at Patrick over the rim of my glass and took a sip of the wine. His steel-gray eyes softened to a faint blue as he adored me with his warm smile. How could I resist that look and those eyes? He joked, but I had never seen that much love in anyone’s eyes before and here he was, the perfect man for me, sitting across this table, letting his love wash over me. I felt truly blessed. My life was the envy of all my friends and here I was, poo-pooing the wedding dress like a spoiled child. “I don’t care if it’s a large or small wedding. I don’t care if we get married in an elaborate cathedral with gold encrusted stained glass windows, or in the backyard at my mom’s trailer park in Iowa. All I care about is you, Patrick.”
His
smile grew from ear to ear and he reached across the table for my hand. “You make me happy, Chloe. More than you can ever know.” He squeezed gently.
My cheeks flushed and we both
smiled as our waiter arrived with the food.
I poked a forkful of leafy salad on my plate and asked, “
So…? How was your bachelor party with the guys last night?”
Patrick
glanced down to the table, and then looked straight at me with a hint of a smile in his eyes. “It was fine. A little crazy, though. You know Ryan. He can go a little overboard at times.” He wiggled his eyebrows as he popped a bite of chicken in his mouth.
“No male strippers
? I would expect nothing less from Ryan.” I chuckled.
Patrick answered with a knowing snicker. Ryan
had been single for a while and he always had an eye for devastatingly good looking young male model types. “Uh, no, thank God. Just the usual bachelor party stuff. You know, drinking and such. I’m just glad it’s over.”
I
narrowed my eyes and summed up the expression on his face. I decided not to probe any further. After all, what happens at a bachelor party stays at a bachelor party. That was my philosophy. It was just another fun tradition about weddings and besides, I trusted Patrick more than anything in the world.
“When are your parents flying in
for the wedding?” Patrick asked.
“The day after tomorrow, I hope. Mom has a phobia about flying but
Dad will talk her through her fears. Well, that and a couple of stiff drinks.” I giggled at the thought of my mom, the unworldly traveler that she was, tipsy on a crowded flight.
“They could drive here.
How much time would it take…twelve hours or so?”
“
Oh, God no, that would be even worse. Mom and Dad driving in Manhattan traffic? I doubt their marriage would survive that experience.” I chuckled. “I can see it all now, my mom screaming at my dad over the top of one of those huge fold-out maps of the city. They’d never find their way. Flying it is.”
Patrick
gently rubbed my hand. “They survived flying last time. I’m sure they will do it again.”
“
You’re right. Plus, this time Scott will fly with them. That will help make Mom feel better.” I hadn’t seen my younger brother, Scott, for two years. He had been too busy being a football star at Iowa State University to come and visit his older sister. Back home, college football players were elevated to the level of movie stars. Without a professional team representing the state, college football provided weekend entertainment for die-hard fans.
“
Your family sounds nice. No wonder you’re such a fantastic person. You’re beautiful and smart…you have no idea how much you’ve changed my life.”
His gaze was as soft as a caress and my heart fluttered with excitement.
The surrounding room began to fade out as I trained my focus on Patrick. He was deliciously appealing and every time he looked at me with those half-hooded bedroom eyes I turned into a puddle. My thoughts jumped to the two of us alone and I longed to feel his touch, to be crushed within his embrace and feel his lips trace across the length of my bare neck.
“What?” I
blinked. I had been lost in a daydream but now all I wanted to do was get out of this restaurant and back to the penthouse. Patrick took both of my hands in his, across the table. The plates had been cleared away and we leaned in toward each other, basking in the glow of the tea candle’s light.
“I was saying, I think we should get out of here.”
He rubbed his thumb in little circles on the back of my hand. A slow smile crept across his face. “I have something special for you tonight.”
I peered up from under my lashes and raised an eyebrow.
“You do? Well, I think I might just have a little surprise of my own for you. I think I can top whatever you’re thinking…”
He pulled my hands to his lips and kissed both at the same time. The sexual tension skyrocketed between us
and we both practically bolted for the door, nearly crashing into Tony and his tray as we headed out to the street.
Back at the apartment building we c
ould hardly contain ourselves as we waited for the elevator. The lobby was almost empty except for a stately, gray-haired woman, dressed in a skirt and suit jacket, who lingered near the elevator. Patrick politely nodded at her and I gave a weak smile as we all watched the illuminated numbers counting down above the doors. Patrick and I exchanged a look that spoke volumes.
Why doesn’t she just leave us alone?
But the seconds ticked by slowly. Patrick draped his arm over my shoulder and pulled me in close, nuzzling his nose in my ear under my long loose hair. He began whispering, trying to make me break my poker face and laugh in front of the woman.