Claimed By The Best Man: A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance Page 2

  Our eyes lock even from a distance, and as if my entrance hadn’t been embarrassing enough, I can already feel the almost forgotten sensation of my dick starting to pulse to life.

  A hard on that could cut brick forming at the front of my jeans.

  But for some reason, I don’t mind.

  I hope she can see it. Hope she does see it.

  Sees what she’s doing to me from fifty feet away.

  God only knows what she could do to me at point-blank range.

  The image of my face between her sweet breasts and thighs gives a definite edge to my growing arousal.

  My mouth is suddenly dry like hot sand and there is a pounding in my ribs that feels like my heart is trying to escape my body.

  Rhys’s words echo in my mind.

  ‘Clara’s kid, Piper. You remember her? She’s still being fitted for her dress…’

  It couldn’t be.

  It can’t be.

  The daughter of my best friend’s fiancé?

  Bridesmaid at their wedding?

  Today just went from challenging to complicated, to I need to get her alone.

  All to myself.

  Pukey Piper?

  All grown up, and although it’s totally out of character for me, I’m already thinking about her body tangled with mine.

  Filling her as I empty my seed into her over and over again.

  They say, love, at first sight, is real, but it isn’t always.

  Sometimes it takes a decade for a flower to bloom.

  And Piper’s not only a rare bud, she’s about to blossom.

  And I wanna be that man to claim her sweetness as my own.

  Forever.

  The only word that comes to mind isn’t dirty as I try to walk towards her.

  Try and fail to keep my arousal from showing the closer I get.

  Pre-rehearsal?

  We can have a rehearsal twice a day until the big day for all I care.

  As long as I can get more of this, I’ll be happy.

  Chapter Two

  Piper

  “Because I’m eighteen now, mom. Hell, I’m not a kid and I don’t need a babysitter,” I shout, feeling my whole body shaking.

  It could be low blood sugar. Or the fact that apart from being roped into being a bridesmaid for my mom’s wedding, she’s now laying it on thick that I can’t stay home by myself when she and Rhys go away on their honeymoon.

  What the actual crap?

  Mom’s eyes narrow, and I can see her body tremble as she musters as much calm as she can.

  “There’s no need to swear, or shout, Piper,” she reminds me curtly.

  Normally I’d apologize, or at least make an effort to calm down. But the prospect of the whole place to myself for a few weeks has been the one thing that’s kept me going lately.

  Seeing mom so happy is nice, but her and Rhys? They’ve been on-again and off-again so many times.

  Now marriage? But it’s losing the time alone to myself once they honeymoon I can’t deal with.

  It feels messed up, but I have to admit it really does seem different with them this time around.

  Like mom’s almost forgotten or forgiven Rhys for ever being a Marine.

  I dunno why, but whenever they have an argument it’s the first thing she brings up.

  How if he’d never joined up, if he’d never stayed so close to his best friend, Reeve, he’d never have broken his back, wouldn’t have almost got himself killed is what she really means.

  Even though he has recovered nicely.

  But right now. Right at this moment, I can only think of how my own plans are being ruined.

  Being treated like I’m eight, not eighteen.

  “I’m an adult now, mom,” I growl, clamping my jaw shut tight to try and stop more words from coming out, but it’s useless.

  Once she says it’s final, that while I live under her roof I live by her rules that’s it.

  The sound of her husband-to-be, Rhys pulling up out front is the only thing that diffuses the tension.

  Making me feel stupid and more than bratty when he pokes his head around the door after knocking and letting himself in.

  “Bad time?” he asks, picking up on my mood instantly, but mom is swift to make sure he stays, gripping hold of him and telling him everything’s fine.

  “I was just trying to explain to Piper about having someone to stay over while we’re away on our honeymoon,” she says.

  “We can talk about that later,” he says diplomatically, giving me a friendly smile and a look that tells me he’s on my side too.

  If I wasn’t so mad, I’d let it go.

  But with this stupid wedding pre-rehearsal tonight, the dress still not fitting right as my weight goes up and down with my stress levels, plus now learning my mom thinks I’m still a child who needs a sitter…

  Like I said. It’s messed up.

  Who has a pre-rehearsal for a wedding rehearsal anyway?

  It all sucks right now. And the only thing I can think of is just how right my mom is.

  I hate it when she’s right. But it hits me for all the wrong reasons.

  I really am stuck under her roof with her rules.

  And once she marries Rhys, as nice a guy as he is, I’ll be the third wheel in a household that’s already tense.

  It’ll be two against one and I won’t stand a chance.

  “You didn’t ask?” I hear mom murmur to Rhys. Like this is something that’s been in the works for ages and I’m the last one to find out.

  As usual.

  Rhys gives a little shake of his head, trying to change the subject, but mom won’t let it go.

  “I’ll just ask Denise,” she almost hisses. “Should’ve known better than to count on—” she cuts short, apologizing straight away once she sees the effect her words have on Rhys.

  I’m glad they’re getting married, I truly am. But I just wish I had a life outside of this house, away from being so dependent on my mom still.

  Rhys grips her by the waist and pulls her close.

  “Can we not argue?” he says calmly, disarming my mom with one of his winning smiles and a kiss that sees me scrunching up my nose and turning on my heel to head back to my bedroom.

  Gross.

  My bridesmaid’s dress is freshly pressed and laid out on my bed.

  Altered for the fifth time in as many weeks.

  Puffing air out of my cheeks I let myself fall face-first onto my bed, making sure I avoid creasing the dress.

  I wish it was my wedding dress.

  I wish I had a big strong Marine to rescue me from all this…

  There’s not exactly a big line out front filled with men like that, or anywhere else for that matter.

  Not for me.

  Not too many real men left either, even half the size or strength of my mom’s fiancé out there looking for a short, thick set blond girl with zero everything.

  No job, no money.

  They say a girl can get by on her looks, but I think that’s just something they came up with to make average people feel even less than average.

  Rhys’s muffled and deeply hypnotic voice carries through the house, and after a good hour, the sound of mom’s gentle rapping on my door startles me from the dozing that almost became a nap as I considered my life options.

  “Sweetie?” she whispers. “I’m sorry for before, I’m just so used to knowing where you are. That you’re safe. We both just wanna be sure you’ll have everything you need while we’re away.” She sniffs, obvious to me now that the whole thing’s made her cry.

  Cue soul-deep guilt and feeling like a monster for shouting at my mother like a witch.

  I sit up in bed, and after hugging me, telling me she loves me and everything will work out, she also reminds me we have a half-hour to get ready.

  We’re picking up her friend Denise on the way too.

  Maid of honor and freaking genius who dreamed up the idea of a pre-rehearsal.

  Pre-rehearsal…
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  If I hear that word again, I’ll puke.

  SEVEN FIFTEEN P.M.

  An ex-Marine is never late, and Rhys gets us all to the church and in front of the priest by seven on the dot.

  He seems edgy though, checking his watch and growling aloud how he wishes he hadn’t forgotten his phone.

  Mom is starting to get testy too once Rhys insists we all wait, “Just a few more minutes,” for his best friend and best man to arrive.

  Reeve Bannon.

  Shifting uneasily myself as my recently altered dress pinches parts of me I never knew could be or even should be pinched, the name Reeve swirls in my mind until a sudden loud and definite bang freezes me to the spot.

  Like my body can sense him behind me from fifty feet away.

  The last time I saw him, I was just a little kid and the only time his name’s mentioned now is whenever Rhys says it and my mom bites her tongue, giving him a salty look.

  Everyone spins to see the source of the commotion, but I know who it is without even looking.

  I can feel him already.

  That pinching under my dress has flushed into a deep heat, radiating from my core, through my lace see-through underwear, bought by me just for me online.

  Suddenly damp with heat even though there’s a draft in the church.

  I swallow hard, telling myself it’s just nerves. That I’m just being shy.

  Just being silly.

  But as I slowly turn I know it’s none of the above.

  Dark piercing eyes are on me, scanning me up and down, a smirk of satisfaction at the edge of a chiseled jaw.

  He’s huge, his six foot seven frame fills the church entrance, making mom’s fiancé Rhys look like a sickly child by comparison.

  Rhys is huge though. His best friend Reeve?

  Massive.

  And from the bulge in his jeans, as he stands glued to the spot, giving me a moment to study him myself, he’s massive everywhere.

  He’s wearing a crisp white T-shirt that looks painted on, and jeans that hug his powerful legs like denim was invented because of him.

  Every single muscle in his upper body and torso is visible through the thin fabric, making my heart and core ache just from looking at him.

  Like he’s been carved from granite, his whole body is chiseled, strong and in perfect proportion to his size as well as the energy, the man radiates.

  He’s been here two seconds and already the church is full of his essence, his power.

  Reeve’s skin is smooth, almost ageless but kissed by the sun with a tan that a girl just knows has no end to it either.

  His thick dark hair, flecked with the slightest hint of silver near his temples is the only giveaway of his age.

  I hear what I think is my mom or her friend groaning at him being late, as I feel the dampness between my legs turn into a river of arousal as it runs down my thigh. But I realize it’s me who is groaning.

  Instant longing for the man hitting me like a tidal wave.

  My moan is a low, needy sound.

  Like a starving wild animal being shown a fresh haunch of meat.

  And Reeve Bannon is all meat.

  Real man, pure one hundred percent Marine grade-A beef.

  I shiver as he marches over towards us, Rhys already making a half-serious reprimand, half-joke about the time.

  But Reeve’s eyes are glued to me, pulling something up from deep inside me with the flex and torsion of his massive frame as he gets closer, spelling it out for me silently.

  A single word. The most welcome intrusion to my thoughts.

  Mine.

  If this is what a deer about to be eaten feels like, I can die happy.

  But please, please dear lord let him eat me like a girl should be.

  Not all dead and bloody like a real deer.

  No. Reeve isn’t that kind of wild animal.

  He’s a noble, alpha male. Leader of the pack, but something in his softening gaze shows me a part of myself too.

  He’s the leader of a pack of one.

  A lone wolf. Or he used to be.

  Mine.

  The word is in my mind again, almost a howl over Rhys’s voice and the others, who all rush to accept his mumbled apologies for being late.

  Say what they will behind his back, my mom and her friend, even the priest. Once they’re in front, his imposing figure looking down on them, it’s impossible to be in anything but in awe of the man.

  I can see at a glance that Rhys and Reeve don’t need words to communicate. But Reeve’s eyes move to mine again swiftly communicating with me without saying a word.

  Mine.

  It’s the only word I get, and it’s the only word I care to hear right now.

  No one has ever looked twice at me in my adult life, and even before we run through the wedding pre-rehearsal, it’s clear to me that Reeve isn’t just looking either.

  He’s obviously a man who knows what he wants.

  But could he really want anything to do with a thick set, short girl more than half his age like me?

  Dream on, Piper.

  I mean look at him. The man’s a freaking god.

  Sigh.

  Even if it’s just a fantasy, for now, I can’t ignore my own instant attraction to him.

  I can’t ignore this instant and obvious feeling inside me, already begging him with my mind to do more than just give me dark, brooding, and intense looks.

  Put those huge hands and even bigger pant bulge to work, Marine.

  If only it were that simple.

  If only there was some way I could get to spend some time alone with Reeve, just enough to fuel this instant and intense fantasy.

  Chapter Three

  Reeve

  “You okay big guy?” Rhys asks, giving me a strange look once we’re done running through the planned ceremony.

  Any other time, place, or situation and I’d tell my oldest friend everything. I’d tell him what has me so preoccupied.

  And in the best possible way.

  But being the only daughter of his soon-to-be bride, and half my age to boot?

  I don’t think now’s the time to talk about my feelings towards the young woman who’s obviously more than just a little more grown-up than the last time I saw her.

  Little Pukey Piper?

  Nah, she’s a big girl now, all grown up.

  Everywhere that counts too.

  It’s like she’s a different person altogether. Definitely not a kid anymore, and even my limited knowledge of biology tells me that she’s ready.

  Ready to be claimed. Ready to be given the life she deserves.

  But now’s not the time to play show and tell with the aching fucking tent pole in my pants either.

  ‘See! See what she does to me, Rhys? Hey everyone, come see what a girl half my age is doing to me at first glance. I could cut a diamond with this thing…’

  Not exactly wedding pre-rehearsal banter, is it? As much as I would like to do more than just show it to Piper.

  I’d like to watch her ponytail bounce in time with her pussy being filled until her cream flows over my balls as they fill her with my seed.

  But I don’t even know enough about her for my own satisfaction either, not yet.

  I need Intel.

  I need data.

  I need to get her alone, just to talk. To be closer without the focus being on the salami storefront in my jeans.

  Not right away anyhow.

  “Just a long day,” I tell Rhys, but I’m sure he can tell I’m not giving him the whole story.

  Not lying. Just not telling the whole story.

  He eventually shrugs and slaps my back, hard.

  “You gotta work smarter, not harder my man,” he quips. Making me breathe with some relief, but sore inside because I can’t even look at Piper right now without giving myself away in front of Rhys.

  He can literally read my thoughts, and me his. But right now he’s so tied up with his wedding, with Piper’s mom that I get a pa
ss.

  For now.

  “Listen,” he continues in a lowered voice, guiding me off to the side of the group.

  “Clara and I are gonna drop Denise off on the way back to hers… And we both have… something we’d like to run by you,” he says hesitantly in a near whisper.

  My heart skips a beat. My mouth is a bale of cotton in a field on a hot day.

  He knows. Of course, he knows.

  How could anyone not notice this fucking tower in my pants?

  “Run what by me?” I rasp, needing to clear my throat. Needing some air when I turn my head just enough to catch a fine view of Piper from behind again, making me stifle a groan.

  God, but she’s beautiful.

  Perfect.

  “Nothing like donating a kidney, bro,” Rhys says and laughs at his own joke, slapping my back again.

  “Just meet us at Clara’s in a half-hour?” he asks, watching my head nod in silence until I feel it about to roll off.

  “What about Piper?” I blurt out, gripping him by the arm and making everyone turn to look because I’ve practically shouted her name.

  Fuck.

  May as well just confess everything right now.

  And as unlikely as it could be, it’s actually Clara who rescues me.

  “You’re right,” she says, shifting her eyes to Piper, giving me the chance to do the same.

  “Maybe you could give Piper a ride?” she says. “I think she’d rather just get home and outta that dress. Denise’s place is out of the way.”

  I can see and feel Denise shrinking a little. Suddenly an imposition rather than a friend, but that’s just how Clara is most days.

  “Give Piper a ride?” I parrot back, sounding like a moron, but feeling a crazed smile spread across my face as my eyes meet Piper’s again.

  She’s flushed, her chest vibrating as she shivers a breath.

  I’ll give Piper the ride of her fucking life given half the chance.

  “I mean, sure. Piper can ride shotgun with me. We’ll see you soon,” I add calmly, casually.

  Firmly.

  Back in control of the situation, and fucking winning.

  Nothing to see here. Just an old family friend taking the young lady home and then discussing something with her mom and my friend, Rhys.

  Then why does it feel like I’ve just won the lottery? Feel like I’ve just been given a fucking hall pass from my successful but desperately lonely life.